The 15th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association: The Dependent Origination in Our Daily Life, Part I (my breakthrough in Meditation)

April 19 was the occasion of the 15th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association (MWBA) held at its venue at Pinellas Park on a monthly basis. For the first time, we and all the attendees commenced the pre-Dharma talk meditation on our own, the absence of the guidance by the designated Dharma teacher of the day did not dampen the attendees' enthusiasm nor readiness. Also for the first time, the occasion was graced by a venerable Bikkhuni (Buddhist nun), rather than the usual fare of a venerable Bikkhu (Buddhist Monk) or a male Buddhist lay-practitioner thus far, not that it mattered anyway.

Our Dharma teacher for the day was Venerable Chueh Fan, Director of Guang Ming (Buddha Light) Temple, Orlando, who has graced our home previously.

She was going to deliver a Dharma talk entitled the Dependent Origination in Our daily Life, and was unable to be with us for the meditation session because of her morning duties at Guang Ming Temple. But first, my meditation experience for the morning.

Recently, I have developed a coughing tendency that occurs sporadically. It's a dry cough and usually starts with an itchy sensation at the throat that is relieved by coughing for a brief period, sometimes in a quick succession of loud coughs ending with an involuntary sneeze. I have never tried to fight it but merely cover my mouth to muffle the ensuing noise while in public. It could be just an allergic reaction to the pollen season though I have always thought I'm immune to it.

Sometime during my meditation, I had a bout of tickling sensation at my throat. I tried to suppress the usual relief of coughing for fear of disrupting the enveloping quiet, but the sensation seemed to be gaining the upper hand, building up its intensity with time. At one point, I did open my eyes and wanted to leave the hall so that I could just get the cough out of the way. But something deeper in me was also trying to stay put, and to let the mind exert its control over my bodily function. So I tried to put the ever mounting physical sensation out of the mind, a duel of mind and the body if you will, by focusing on the meditation and elevating my level of mindfulness.

After a time, gradually the physical sensation subsided and slided into oblivion, without me actually knowing its retreat. A victory of the mind over the body, in this instant. But before I could feel smug about my little conquest, the next challenge surfaced. During the duel, a stream of tears started to roll down my cheek, prompted perhaps by the reaction of the body mechanism to seek relief elsewhere.

If you ever have tears rolling down your cheek, you will understand that tickling sensation it generates on the skin in the path of the rolling motion driven by gravity. The natural response would be to use the back of the hand to wipe it off, thereby eliminating the source of the irritation. That would also be a rational move given that no noise is generated. But I was on a roll, and decided to stay motionless, hence initiating another mind-and-body head-to-head clash. And 2-0 for the mind.

While these may seem small conquests in the grand scheme of things, it was no mean feat at the personal level, convincing myself that everything (within reason) is possible if we just put our mind to the task.

Before it was all over, the third challenge arose, again not unexpectedly as I have been “afflicted” before with similar physical stimulation. This time, the battleground moved to the stomach, the often embarrassing and yet seemingly insurmountable physical response. I'm referring to belching, which I will put in the same league as sneezing and yawning as far as involuntary body reactions go.

This time though, the physical phenomenon is so involuntary (spasmatic is perhaps a better word) that there was nothing I could do. Like a knee jerk reaction, the motor muscles just flex beyond the reach of the mind.

Well, two out of three isn't bad. Life is about picking the wars to fight (the strategic frame) while conceding the battles where the outcome is inevitable and more important, inconsequential (the tactical frame). I would consider myself having experienced a small breakthrough, an incremental improvement achieved through constant practice, in my relatively brief journey on meditation thus far.

Do tune in for the concluding part of the Dharma talk proper, featuring Venerable Chueh Fan, in a subsequent blog.

The moment just before the arrival of Venerable Chueh Fan, the attendees, sitting expectantly, suitably refreshed after the meditation session, while listening to Sister Lily on the morning's program. Brother Tom was away helping out in the Change Your Mind Day organized by the Tampa Bay Buddhist Peace Fellowship held at Philippe Park, Safety Harbor on the same day. Some of us would join the blissful activity after the MWBA Dharma session, including Venerable Chueh Fan who was one of the speakers. The proceedings there as I see it would be the subject of yet another blog, thus completing a blogging trilogy of the blissful day of April 19, 2008.

So how much do you make ?

Today (April 13, 2008)'s issue of PARADE, which is delivered every Sunday as a supplement to the St. Petersburg Times, carries a survey of how much American people earn (How does your salary stack up? by Lynn Brenner, pg. 3-17). This annual survey of a sample of wage levels spreading across the various occupations serve as a barometer on the state of the economy as well as a personal guide to career prospects and rewards for those newly admitted into the University of Hard Knocks.

A cursory glance of the various personal incomes earned reveals a disparity that can be perhaps described as yawning, traversing several orders of magnitude. On one end, there are people earning 8- or even 9 digit income while the other end bottoms out at barely making 5-digit, annually.

Thus, people in the entertainment and showbiz industry and professional sports comprise the elitist group by financial standards. Included therein are also the captains of industry, their managerial finesse and business acumen at a premium.

On the other hand, the blue collar group that makes up the main bulk of the working populace languish at the bottom scale, though some with well-sought-after skills manage to elevate themselves to be in the white-collar realm, comprising mainly professionals, including teachers.

I guess this stupendous disparity of earning potentials, or what the society is willing to reward, is to be expected from a capitalist society. There is basically nothing wrong in capitalizing on one's endowment, be it natural talent, physical attribute, or entrepreneurial spirit. Also, we tend to be clouded by the affluence as to blind us to the fact that this wealth is gotten at great physical exertion such as training and preceded by a history of mundane struggles just like anybody else.

It's only through perseverance and seizing upon every opportunity that came along that these high income earners have broken through the rank. Nothing is more inspiring than a rags to riches story, which is what the same capitalistic milieu has made possible.

So looking at the bright side, instead of a feeling of deprivation and injustice, the annual tally of what people earn, a commendable effort by the PARADE magazine, is actually an impetus to spur us on to greater heights and to carve out our own niche in the process.

Shower

Taking a shower, or taking a bath as is more commonly spoken of from where I came from, is as natural as sleeping. The former is like a work-over for the body while the latter, the mind. So when we saw this movie title on the 4-in-1 DVD, the temptation to find out what the director can possibly cook up from this mundane aspect of life was too much to resist. And we watched it next, after the first.

The film, made in China, revolves around the operator of a public shower facility situated in a small town. Widowed, he lives with his younger son (Er Ming, meaning the second clarity), who is intellectually challenged, while his elder son (understandably he would be Ta Ming, the first clarity. Those days, for simplicity, parents liked to name their children in the order that they were born. Presumably if the operator has a third son, he would have named him Shan Ming, and yes, you guessed it, the third clarity) has gone to the city to seek a better life.

The public bath facility is what one would call a full-service one-stop center as far as one's bathing needs and body grooming are concerned. The range of service extends from standing bath, soaking in pools, communal style, to body massage, mani- and pedicure, and traditional Chinese cupping to relieve minor discomforts, all rendered with a personal touch, by the operator himself. [In the image below, Ta Ming is to the left, then, the Dad, and Er Ming, in that order.]

The simple maintenance routine, cleaning the pools, scrubbing the floor, and running other simple errands amongst the patrons also suits the younger son to the hilt. And it is within this warm (both in terms of the physical comfort and human interaction) that the story of the small town unfolds. It's a man's world in there but apparently those privileged to be admitted because of their gender are not immune to gossips, hitherto regarded as the exclusive province of the fairer sex. [This would be a good time to pause to consider whether you would like to check out the movie first before you read on, for vivid descriptions of moving scenes may follow.]

We learned of a man having connubial problem, precipitated by him hearing his wife being the talk of the town, having run out, butt-naked, to the street in pursuit of a thief who had the audacity to steal her gold pendant while she was bathing, little realizing that a lady would just throw caution, and propriety, to the wind for a worldly possession. Then how the couple patched up, right in the public bath facility, after closing hours, at the behest of the operator, playing the role of a Samaritan.

Then there is another young guy who suffers from stage jitters. He likes to sing, and belts out soulful notes to serenade his cohorts, while in standing bath, with water raining down on him from the faucet above. And his most ardent fan is none other than Er Ming, his child-like complexion inspired by the singing. But, apparently, this is the only time he is in his elements. Fast forwarding, the next scene placed him on stage, in a carnival of sort. Grasping the mike nervously, all he could do was donning a red face, maybe even some blood vessels bursting at their seams but otherwise remaining invisible because of his plump countenance.

Fast forwarding again, there he was at it again. But despite his valiant attempts with all his might and willpower, there was still pin-drop silence. Then rain started to drip upon him from above, and instantly he was transformed, serenading the cheering crowd. Those discerning among you may have surmised, yes, it was Er Ming, who ran up to the side of the stage, a hose in hand, and sprayed the issuing water on to the stage, providing the conducive environment for the singer's ability to take flight. Just to show that empathy and the ability to connect are not contingent upon one's intellectual development. It's ingrained, hard-wired in all of us. Sadly though, our delusion, which seems to correlate well with one's intellectual development, tends to cloak our true nature such that it would not see the light of the day.

Then there were snippets of bathing folklores criss-crossing the film. At a certain place in China, which is arid all round the year marked by water scarcity, there is a custom that girls need to take a bath on the eve of their wedding as a sacred pre-consummation ceremony. So the parents were seen trudging long distances to barter their precious food staples for water, tumbler by tumbler. And they managed to acquire enough water just to fill a tub, for the bride-to-be to complete her obligation.

Such is the profundity of a parent's love, transcending the bounds of physical constraints, just to honor the duty that attends to bringing a human life into this world.

At another place in Tibet, two human forms were braving the elements on a long trek. There were a grandmother and granddaughter, on a pilgrimage to fulfill a life-long dream: to bath in the sacred lake, Lake Mansarovar. According to Wikipedia, Lake Mansarovar, at 4,556 m above mean sea level, is the highest fresh-water lake in the world. "It is a place of pilgrimage, attracting religious people from India, Tibet and the neighboring countries. Bathing in the Manasa Sarovar and drinking its water is believed to cleanse all sins," the same source continues.

So whether doing it everyday, on the eve of one's wedding, or once in a lifetime, bathing has a therapeutic, customary, and spiritual side to it.

Back to the movie theme. Upon receiving a hand-drawn image from Er Ming, who was not able to write because of his intellectual impairment [I have been careful to distinguish between the cognitive part of mental development from the affective part, two terms I picked up from reading Daniel Goldman's works. As is obvious from the above, Er Ming is only deficient in the former but not the latter], Ta Ming rushed home, to find that his Dad was well and sound. It was later we learned that Er Ming had drawn a man sleeping on a bed with him standing by. What Ta Ming interpreted as his Dad passing away was actually Er Ming's conception of him standing next to his sleeping Dad.

Anyway, there were revealing scenes of the Dad wishing very much for Ta Ming to stay back and yet did not want to tie Ta Ming down, curtailing the latter's own ambition. On the other hand, Ta Ming was also torn between filial piety, taking care of his ailing father, unbeknownst to Ta Ming then, and Er Ming who seemed unable to be on his own, and venturing on his own in his yearning for city lights and presumably a better quality of life.

There was a little twist in that Ta Ming had not brought his wife home, ostensibly ashamed of his brother's condition. Seeing that his father really enjoyed tending to his business, and sharing a life with Er Ming whether scrubbing the floor together, or jogging together which always ended up in a last-stretch duel to see who sprinted to home first, Ta Ming tried to prolong his stay as long as possible.

Then tragedy struck and he was forced to make a decision. The dad passed away, and sending Er Ming to a professional care center did not help him because of the new environment. To Er Ming, the public bath facility was the only place he had known, and there too he was most at ease, and was productive, and able to help others. So the brothers took over the business, presumably Ta Ming would one day convince his wife to join him (this conjecture was made from a scene that showed the other line just went dead when Ta Ming was confessing to his wife about his brother over the phone).

I felt warmth, clarity, and serenity at the end of the movie, assured in the belief that despite all the reported human atrocities, there are people who care and in whom human decency is sacrosanct. I leave you with this couplet seen on the door frame to to the public bath facility:


Couplets are traditional Chinese poetic displays of verses that embody good human values. They are popular especially during Chinese New Year when they adorn house portals or interior rooms and boast of both the elegance of the Chinese calligrapy and the profound messages embedded there in. I have not seen this particular one that conveys the message that wholesomeness of thoughts and deeds confers propitiousness on the left, and that decorum is the epitome of etiquette on the right.

Father-and-Son, a Relationship Etched Through A Thousand Mile Trek

I'm usually attracted to action/thriller movie flicks when it comes to cinematic exploration. Seldom do I, or so I thought, have time or stomach for docudramas which I find to be slow moving. However, lately this notion of mine has undergone a paradigmatic shift as evidenced from some of the films in this genre that have been a revelation: Turtle Can Fly, A Bright Moon.

This altered impression has been considerably reinforced in the past week when wify's Arts teacher, Mrs. Fan, loaned us a 4-in-1 movie DVD, in the DVD-9 format (According to this source, DVD-9, also called Single Sided Dual Layered, contains 8.5 GB of disk space and is popular in Asia, as opposed to DVD-5, called Single Sided Single Layered containing 4.7 GB of disk space commonly found here. Hence, a DVD-9 is able to hold the 4 movies in one.).

Over a span of a few days and nights, we watched the movies one after the other, one at a time, non-stop. How did we decide on the order of the movies? By familiarity, either with the title or with the acting cast. And by the movie synopses, starting with the easy-going mirth and ending with the sad and the sorrowful. Here we were helped by Mrs. Fan who singled out one of them as fitting the latter category. So that was an automatic choice for the last we would tackle, I mean watch.

The first one in our list is Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles, because I recall having seen the title somewhere before. At first, we did not recognize the lead Japanese actor, whose face was partially obscured by the cap he was wearing on the profile shot shown on the title image. But in the first few minutes after start, we knew we have seen him before, vividly recalling him as a middle-aged world weary cop in Japan opposite Michael Douglas, his US counterpart, on a gang bust, in Black Rain, one of our favorite movies. Then he looked younger. Hence the throw off. He is Ken Takakura, but his name in Chinese precedes him as far as I'm concerned. I also learned that he has been dubbed the Clint Eastwood of the East because of his brooding mannerism and laconic oral delivery. Also after the fact, we learned that the film was co-directed by Yimou Zhang, one of the few Chinese directors who have been recognized in Hollywood, two other notable examples being Ang Lee and John Wu.

Ken Takakura, as a father on a lone quest to rediscover his affection for his son, reazlied through his interaction with Yangyang, another son of China whose father was on the same trek, emotionally that is (the image is taken from here).

The movie depicts the throes of inter-generational relationship between a father and his son. After the passing away of the lady of the house, they drifted further apart, the father (played by Ken) relocated to a rural town and spent his time brooding by the coastline, if he was not otherwise engaged as a commercial fisherman. [From hereon I would be in my spoiler role. So be forewarned.]

One fine day, he was called to the city by his daughter-in-law, supposedly to visit his ailing son, his impending visit unbeknownst to his son. Still harboring resentment, the son refused to see his father (the son actually did not appear in the entire movie and his presence was only known through his voice.) Rejected, the father returned forlornly to the fishing town, but not before the daughter-in-law handed a videotape to him, showing his son's visit to the Yunnan area of China last year where he met up with his idol (and so his father thought) of the famed Chinese face opera.

The son had promised to return the next year to make a film of a famous episode, Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles, the title namesake, from an epic Chinese literary masterpiece. [Being one who has done some Chinese translation as an amateur, I have my own take on the English title. It is, Alone on a Thousand Mile Trek, which is what the movie is all about, a personal quest by a father into uncharted territory in a far-flung nook on the earth, terrain-wise, language-wise, culture-wise, as well as those on a mental plane, the perennial inner collision of the value systems that if reconciled, will lead to the emergence of a new self, with new world view.]

Two aspects captivated me: the breath-taking and rustic landscape of the village setting, largely barren of green vegetation and yet being a geographical wonder of giant pillar-like stone columns, and the simple, down-to-earth life style rich with neighborliness and esprit de corps. On one scene, the village residents had an open air feast with tables joined end to end to stretch along the attire alley separating the two rows of house. Such congeniality, such conviviality, which is hardly seen these days, has been etched into our psyche. We really miss those spontaneous moments of celebration, not for any festival or special occasion of victory, of success; but just for the plain pleasure of living, and rejoicing.

Subsequent waves of disappointment in the form of anthropogenic barriers did not deter the single-minded purpose of Ken (from hereon I would use the screen name of Ken to refer to his character in the film, for simplicity) in fulfilling his son's dream, which he thought would help bridge the chasm separating them. Meanwhile, Li, the opera actor, was in jail and too distraught to perform the famed opera piece because of estrangement from his son, illicitly fathered.

The key episode, to me, has to be Ken's trek to another village in an attempt to unite Li and his son who have not seen each other (see the parallel, Ken's own predicament is as good as not being able to see his son, both physically and emotionally?). From total strangers, Ken and Yangyang (Li's son) developed a bond through the ordeal of living through a night in the wilderness, amongst the stone columns. That triggered a torrent of thoughts for Ken as regards his relationship with his own son. And all was forgiven and forgotten.

Ken's son, upon learning from his wife of his father's lone journey to China, penned his apologies to his Dad, at the same time revealing that his Dad had mistook his rather perfunctory response to Li to return the following year as his life-long passion, but appreciating his Dad's strange way of expressing his affection nonetheless.

Both Li and Ken's son did not see their wishes come through: the former seeing his son (the village elders respecting Yangyang's wish not to see the stranger who had fathered him, at the prodding of Ken to respect the young boy's wish. I can only imagine that Ken must have extrapolated this display from his own experience of shutting out his own son), but Li did get to watch the movie made by Ken of his son's expressive behavior, and the latter seeing his father, Ken, having departed because of lung cancer before his Dad's return.

But both fathers moved on, with clarity of the journey ahead: Li performed the opera, perhaps assured that he would get to see his son one day while Ken filmed it as a memoriam for his departed son. Both have also made the mental thousand mile trek, and have emerged the wiser, having awakened from their past misdeeds and self-imposed incarceration borne out of delusion, respectively.

The other movies, or rather my take of them, will appear in subsequent posts here. So stay tuned, if my idiosyncratic way of movie critique appeals to you.

Tea Gathering, a la Tzu Chi

We attended a tea gathering (the literally translated version of “party” sounds a wee bit convivial while “meeting”, on the other hand, borders on matter-of-fact. “Gathering” then reflects both congeniality and informality) organized by the Orlando Chapter of Tzu Chi Organization, a Buddhist Compassionate Relief based in Taiwan and founded by Master Cheng Yen in 1966, at a Tampa venue today. This was the very first of its kind held in Tampa this year, having been held in abeyance for some time. The idea is to hold the tea gathering here in Tampa on a roving basis, rotating among the different residences, both to disseminate the dispensations from its founder on the Foundation's four great missions of charity, medicine, education, and culture, and to galvanize the local community into answering the clarion call for compassionate relief.

It was raining when we arrived at the residence of John and Adina, the hosts for the evening, their front yard filled with cars that spilled onto the road side, a tell-tale sign of identification for first-time visitors like us.

The meeting began with a video presentation on the dispensations from Master Cheng Yin, focusing on environmental protection and rallying the troop to help alleviate the ills that has befallen Mother Earth. The video highlighted the selfless actions of a Vietnamese lady who has moved permanently to Taiwan and an Israeli couple on a sojourn to the island. Both were undaunted by the language barrier, the physical exertion, and the sacrifice of time and effort, to become part of the Buddhist Compassionate Relief, signifying that compassionate relief transcends national borders and man-made boundaries.

Mr. James Huang, the head of the Orlando Chapter, then introduced the green bag and the bamboo piggybank as resolute symbols of compassionate relief and environmental protection. Actually the piggybank is of thin metallic construction, a replica of its bamboo precursor of yore. The video showed some old film snippets of how pennies and cents were saved in the bamboo piggybank, which was sawn open when full to provide funds for immediate relief, besides promoting the saving habit. It's like reliving the age of the bamboo piggybank, going back to the basics of compassionate relief.

The green bag and the symbolic bamboo piggybank (the small print of English translation of the two vertical lines of verse reads: Good deeds Everyday. Happiness and wisdom on your way.)

Mr Huang showing off the green bag. Ain't the background picture on the screen to the side, that of a dozing young monk, serenity inspiring?

Mr. Huang conveyed the concern of Master Cheng Yen that time is running out as disasters, epidemics, and famine continue to plague the Earth, casting a morbid pall on the once verdant Mother Earth made fragile by man's intransigence, systematically chipping away her lifeline out of greed. Therefore, it's high time to create merits, to plough back to the community, instead of exhausting our blessings.

The second video, 50 minutes long, captured the Bodhi essence, as part of the series on Bodhi on Earth that epitomizes the Dharma Path of the Still Thought, featuring perennial affection and great love. The main bulk of the video, which was made on the occasion of the 41th anniversary of Tzu Chi Foundation last year, focused on the translation of the Sutra of Measureless Meaning into a hand sign musical. The Sutra of Measureless Meaning is considered a prequel to Saddharmapuṇḍarīka-sūtra, first learned by Master Cheng Yen early on in her monastic career when she hand-copied the latter. It has now become the Dharma essence of the Still Thought School as embodied in the Making the Vow Verse that was sprinkled throughout the video. You can listen to it here while an English translation together with the full text of the Verse appears below:

Our hearts and mind interweaved, we pass on the Dharma core
Our determination steadfast, we propagate our tradition
We cherish the conditions that help spawn Tzu Chi
The Sutra of Measureless Meaning as the core of the Still Thought School
Shall underpin our ethos as disciples
We sincerely beseech you our beloved Master to worry not.

Master Cheng Yin was put under the tutelage of Venerable Yin Shun from whom she took to heart the following teaching:

For Buddhism; For all sentient beings.

Providing the narrative, Master Cheng Yen spoke with an inspiring tone, a diction rich with compassion and empathetic of the human suffering. I thought I heard a few sniffles and saw several hand-wiping-off-the face motions. It was that moving.

Next up was a hand signal demonstration of the theme song of the 2007 Year End Appreciation and Blessing Dinner. In the span of a few minutes, we were taught the rudiments of hand language, for gratitude, for respect, for love, and for others that make up the lyrics shown below with its English translation.

Gratitude, Respect, Love
Love yourself well, then give in gratitude
Loving yourself is repaying our blessings, giving is displaying gratitude.
Respect others, for there is no they, you, or we
Harmony accumulates small love, respect spawns great love
Gratitude is water, respect is river of water, love is the wide expanse of ocean into which rivers debouch
Nurturing life, vitiating darkness
Gratitude is water, respect is river
Gratitude and respect, together shower the world with love.

The gathering concluded with a free sharing of experience in volunteerism among the attendees. An attendee put it best as a three-stage sequence of intention, vow, and actualization. Some were initially put off by the wrongful notion that Tzu Chi is for those who have the wherewithal and the luxury of time on their hands but realized later that at least they do it while others only act as armchair critics. Still others may be overwhelmed by the enormous scale of it all and feel inadequate. The take home message is no good deed is too small. One can always start from the immediate environs, dispensing loving kindness and selfless care for those close at hand, the purpose being to inculcate this noble act of volunteerism into our collective psyche so that the spirit of volunteerism becomes an integral part of our ethos.

Last but not the least, we were treated to a sumptuous collection of finger food and tidbits that would satisfy the most fastidious palate. Kudos to the Orlando Chapter and our gracious hosts, John and Adina, not forgetting those who made it happen by being in attendance, for a tea gathering, ala Tzu Chi, well-planned and superbly executed. That's a baby, but a necessary first, step for imbibing a sense of volunteerism into the local community.

The 14th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association: Suffering and Impermanence

As part of our monthly routine, we drove to Pinellas Park last Saturday to attend the 14th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association (MWBA), in a continuing series of Dharma discussion of Buddhist wisdom, this time on suffering and impermanence. The discussion was to be led, as usual, by Bhante Dhammawansha, the resident monk of Dhamma Wheel Meditation Society (DWMS). However, we were informed by Brother Tom at the outset that Bhante has been taken ill in the past week, having succumbed to the recent spells of cold weather that have engulfed the Tampa/St. Pete areas.

And Brother Tom had acted swiftly to request the company of the Samadhi Buddhist Meditation Center (SBMC) in the vicinity of the same locale, which has planned a half-day retreat at the same time. So it was an opportune moment for the two Buddhist groups to merge the two events in the spirit of Buddhist brotherhood. The SBMC group was led by Bhante Upananda, whom we have met previously, and Venerable Bhikkhuni Sudarshana, the Senior Dharma Teacher and Abbess of SBMC, respectively.

Wify and Shenghua arriving early at the lunch room, backed by the book shelf of Buddhist books for free reading.

Attendees taking their respective place before the start of the Dharma session.

At the start, we all prayed for a speedy recovery by Bhante Dhammawansha. After meditating as usual (meaning experiencing the usual struggle to stay mindful, at times I could sense my body wanting to go out of plumb; also, usual in the sense that just when I felt I had gained the upper hand, the end signal always came too soon), the attendees briefly introduced themselves. When Bhante's turn arrived, he told us that his ordained name (in Pali) is a combination of “close to” and “happiness”. How befitting.

[That reminds me of wify's ordained name (in Chinese), bestowed when she took the Three Refuges under the aegis of Venerable Hsing Yun last July in the Buddha Light Temple of Orlando. It translates as having the nature of cloud, roaming free in the wide expanse of the sky, whimsical and forever changing, signifying impermanence. Wify also chipped in with two other notable traits of cloud: it's everywhere and its original nature stays the same despite its many forms since it is water vapor.]

On the first of the twin subject of suffering and impermanence, Bhante first gave the Pali word for which the above English term was later rendered, Dukkha. The simplicity of the word belies the multiplicity of facets, levels, and aspects that the word connotes. It's at once ambiguous and deceptive, laden with many strata of human emotions that its English counterpart has found wanting.

Taken apart, the first part, Du, means no, in the negative, without essence. The suffix implies finding it distasteful or disgusting. Together then, Dukkha conveys the sense of being in despair because of the absence of essence/core, rendering it meaningless such that it's not good at all. In that regard, it's a feeling, a sensation.

[Here I recall that a similar word is used in a similar context, but perhaps lacking the associated profundity, in the Malay language. It's simply spelled as Duka, which is often used to preface a disappointment or rejection.]

Dukkha arises from many different sources, making our life hectic and yet never far from lethargy. The struggle to seek peace of mind and yet survive the rat race is an everyday dilemma that seems insurmountable. Split between two worlds where we alternately submerge and emerge, all we could aspire is to minimize the gap, compromising and treading the middle ground.

There are three levels of Dukkha. The first, Dukkha Dukkha, is the general everyday fare of discomforts like headaches, which most of the time can be alleviated through medical treatment.

Then there is Sankhara Dukkha, that which is created, arising from the conditioned world, the world of conditionality. It being unavoidable, we cannot stop the source, but can hope to block it.

[The notion of conditionality is best embodied in the twelve links that the Buddha taught:

“Confusion conditions activity, which conditions consciousness, which conditions embodied personality, which conditions sensory experience, which conditions impact, which conditions mood, which conditions craving, which conditions clinging, which conditions becoming, which conditions birth, which conditions aging and dying.”]

In Buddhist cosmology, the world is comprised of whatever that is subjected to arising, breaking, falling, and changing. Since we are all part of this world, inter-dependency and inter-connectedness are the key words.

In the realms of matter, composed of all physical and material things that are reducible to nothingness, and mind, the mental state, we are brought up to think in terms of a fixed time frame, chained to the notion of time and space as it were, where we focus on what is made, couched in the present perfect tense. But conventional wisdom does not serve us well, pulling wool over our eyes and blinding us to the truth of suffering. Instead, our mind needs to identify with the state of being made, and thinks in the present continuous tense as everything is changing by the seconds.

The third level is Viparinana Dukkha, formed from the prefix Vi, meaning starting to go down, not able to be kept in its original state, and parinana, meaning evolution or formation of what has taken place within a time frame. It is noted that Buddhism only accepts evolution as part of a higher and deeper process.

Viparinana Dukkha is perpetual, constantly being created and destroyed, incessantly arising and falling. In a word, it is change. It is suffering because we cannot see the change. It's much more subtle than the second level, inhabiting our innermost space, and hence requires more education, and a much broader sense to understand. Seeing its nature itself is not enough; we need to see the nature of the cause. Through meditation, we can see the constant change.

On impermanence, Bhante brought us along a similar epistemological exploration, starting with the Pali word for it, Anicca. The prefix, Ni, denotes no or neither. The second part, nicca, connotes permanence. As one sees Anicca, one escapes Dukkha.

Bhante then enumerated the four divine abidings (also equilibrium states of mind) that in totality amount to Unconditional Love as:

loving kindness
compassion
sympathetic/altruistic joy, and
equanimity (equality in the social context).

Buddhism teaches us not to be judgmental, and to recognize that there is no quick fix nor band-aid solution.

An attendee raised an interesting question on whether enlightenment too is subjected to the immutability of impermanence. Bhante explained that there are two levels of meditations: absolute awakening (absolute is preferred to permanent here to avoid any inconsistency), and awakening into a moment (catching a glimpse as it were). Absolute awakening can be attained as a sudden realization, or as a gradual revelation. Bhante then cited two examples of the former: a nun noticing the bubbles forming and bursting on the ground while she was washing her feet; and of one seeing the mirage, which we know to be a optical illusion but an illustration of bogus reality nonetheless since what is seen as water is not water.

At this point, the attendees adjourned for a nice serving of vegetarian lunch, after which the Dharma discussion continued apace.

A moment of doubt, followed by a moment of clarity, facilitated by Bhante.

Everything is suffering in the sense that it remains as a source of suffering. Take the pen (though mighty it is said), a typical mindless inanimate object, as an illustration. We all know that a pen is not capable of suffering, but it is a source of suffering as when we lost it, or broke it. This is what is meant by the characterization in the morning that suffering is a feeling. Living beings are both the victim and the source of the suffering, even though animals suffer at a reduced level.

How to reduce suffering (implying that it's the best we can do)? Cut the cord, the fabric, a euphemism for clinging. To do that, we need a new perspective (Dassana in Pali), a sort of paradigm shift. But first we need to weaken the clinging by reducing the desire and dealing with preconceived notions some of which have been wired into our consciousness through conditioning, lest we concretize and solidify it. Dissolve the ego. Create an inner domain, an inner sanctum. And give a parallel impression that is equally mighty.

At this point, a glance at the clock made us realize that it was well past 2pm, and we bid a somewhat reluctant retreat from the patient Bhante, who continued to field inquiries from those remaining behind.

Propagating Buddha Light To Home

The attendees started to stream in before 4pm yesterday to our home. And at about 5 minutes before 4pm, while we were looking out into the carpark expectantly through the kitchen window, two Buddhist nuns in traditional Chinese monastic wear stepped into view. They were Venerables Chueh Yen and Chueh Fan from the Buddha Light Temple in Orlando. They were here to grace our home for the Propagating Buddha Light to Home (this may seem a mouthful but that's the best I could do with the Chinese translation and yet do justice to the significance of the term. Suggestions are welcome.) program, a facet of the humanistic Buddhism advanced by Venerable Hsing Yun, the founder of the Buddha Light movement.

The Venerables first led off with a blessing chant, invoking the Heart Sutra, complete with chiming. This was followed by a pray and vow recitation by Venerable Chueh Fan, praying for health, for loving kindness, for family bliss, for career success, for peace and equanimity, and for purity of mind and wisdom on the path to Buddhism and in the sea of Dharma.

Reciting the Heart Sutra.

Excerpts from the Pray and Vow Recitation.

Another purpose of the gathering was to seek feedback on the proposal to initiate a Buddhist study group in Tampa where interested lay Buddhists in the area can meet under the guidance of Venerable Chueh Fan to partake of the Buddhist teachings in an organized way.

Venerable Chueh Fan driving home a point.

A larger view of the setting.

Education in Buddhism starts from listening. By way of an example, Venerable Chueh Fan circulated a copy of an excerpt from a Buddhist text, The Dharma Forms, entitled the Three-Life Cause and Effect. She then led us through a reading of the text.

Next up is reflecting, mulling over the content. At the initial level, questions are framed such that the answers are readily available from parts of the text itself and require a rudimentary understanding of what different sentences in the text mean, and their inter-connections. For example, the text says:

“The Buddha has given two analogies to characterize karma: seeds and habits. The karma is akin to a seedling undergoing germination, growth, fruition, seed propagation, emaciation, and decay. After some time, the new seeds, under the right condition, will sprout forth and the cycle of Life is repeated. The effects of our action are similarly manifested.

As an analogy to habits, we can visualize a bottle of perfume. Once depleted, the fragrance stays with the bottle. This analogy underscores the efficacy of karma: once the karmic seed is planted, all it takes is the congruence of the right conditions for the seed to bear fruit, an euphemism for retributions.”

So a direct question could be: what are the two analogies for karma? This requires a mere cognitive response, the aim being to let the concepts sink in. An advanced level of questions would go beyond the superficial terminology recognition to tickle the mind, to stimulate more in-depth thinking such as to draw parallels from personal examples.

A case in point is my interaction with an American friend newly introduced to Buddhism. It's often said that Buddhism is rationality-driven, dispelling blind faith and dogmas as belief conduits. For a westerner to accept the Buddhist teachings, the toughest hurdle would be the apparent absence of a clear nexus linking the facets of the teachings while trying to make sense of and reconcile with what is perceived in the world around him/her.

While karmic retribution is easily understood in the context of the present life: one can see with one's own eyes and relate to instances of crime does not pay and you reap what you sow. But then Buddhism also adds another element: the conditions. When conditions are not ripe, the effect will not materialize until the next moment, or even next life as embodied in the doctrine of Three-life cause and effect. But I'm sure we can cite personal cases when bad things happen to good people (to borrow from the title of a book that I have checked out but have yet to read, by Harold S. Kushner, Schocken Book, 1989). Thus, many life instances of a crooked person living in longevity while a compassionate one meeting an untimely demise can be cited to render the concept fallible.

This was the question the American friend posed to me: If such is the case, how would one in the next life, seemingly having done nothing bad, rationalize that one was paying for what one did in a previous life, when mishap struck since this would require that he knew what he has done in a previous life? Would that even be possible, knowing or remembering that one has lived before and done things?

Honestly, I was stumped. And the lacuna presented a blind spot to me too. Until yesterday. I was telling wify after the fact that Venerable Chueh Fan seems to have telepathic power, able to sense what was troubling my normally clear chain of thought. Because the plausible explanation lies in the very first set of verses appearing in the circulated excerpt, which reads when translated:

“To know the cause of a previous life, just look at those who are experiencing the effect in the present. To know the effect in a future life, just look at those who are causing it in the present.”

The text of Three-Life Cause and Effect, with the set of verses translated above in blue box (please click on the image for clarity).

In a nutshell, the three-life notion is not necessarily a rigidly compartmentalized time horizon of the previous life, the present life, and the future life, all in generational sequence. Rather, it can be interpreted as an inter-year sequence as in last year, this year and next year, or an inter-day sequence, even inter-moment sequence. That is, the three life embodies the past, the present, and the future, irrespective of the chunks of time involved.

Also, I have been clinging to, as with most people, with the notion of self/I. I do this, so I must get this, a rather linear and individualistic way of life as it is, as if nothing else or no other matters. Once we suspend this illusion of self/I, clarity reigns and blind spots dissolve. That, to me, is the realization of the day and I would remember to transmit the message to my American friend when I meet him next.

To complete the learning process, there are the actualizing/correcting phase and the verification phase. After all, Buddhism is the practice of life, in a wise and compassionate way, and that one can only realize the benefits of Buddhist teachings by self-application. As Venerable Chueh Fan intoned, "whatever I teach and talk in a session remains mine". And yes, absent actualizing and verification, the wisdom embedded therein remains embedded, unable to be invoked at will to serve us well in life.

Therefore, an integral element of a beneficial Buddhist study group is participation. All need to relate to their personal life, and to share the experience. Venerable Chueh Fan also suggested that while she is committed to a monthly schedule, it will be instructive for the group to meet more frequently, perhaps fortnightly or even weekly, for the members to interact and to come up with a more advanced line of questioning that could be deferred to her.

In any case, it will be efficient to elect a convener to serve as a point of contact for her and to coordinate organizational matters, and to have a roving venue, each member taking turn to host the group, so as not to unduly burden one host and to help propagate the reach of the Propagating Buddha Light To Home program. In that regard, Sister Yu Tze has been given the honor to be the convener.

More interaction followed but I'm sure these and other matters would arise again in the subsequent group sessions to be featured in latter blog posts. For the occasion at hand, we all celebrated and shared in the Dharma bliss that permeated the gathering throughout the entire evening. We all partook of the vegetarian culinary delights that were served by all, including the Venerables who brought along a dish to share. Thanks to all for a blissful evening. We all have been enriched by the grace of the Buddha, in the persons of the Venerables, and may the Buddha Light extend to envelop the whole world with compassion and wisdom.

For the love of reading

One of the benchmarks used to gage a country's development status, other than economic indicators such as per capita income, is literacy rate. In simple terms, it's the percentage of the populace who can read and write, two of the three Rs (the third being aRithmetics).

With increasing affluence and the advent of video games, it seems that the passion for reading is waning, being replaced by avocations that pander to sense pleasure. Hence the emergence of many efforts such as the Reading Month, the Literacy Week, Newspapers in Education, Bookathon, etc., in an effort to revive the reading habit. But the best place to start cultivating that is at home, in the same vein that charity starts at home, through inculcation and immersion.

Speaking from personal experience, I have to say that the luxury of a spontaneous development of reading habit in a child nowadays is non-existent, not if it has to contend with so many “distractions” that were absent during my younger days.

In the 1960s and 70s, TV had just appeared as both a novelty and status symbol. So none of today's incessant TV bombardment and the term, couch potatoes, was not even in the lexicon, as yet. Computers? Nada. So none of the video games that glorify sensual escapades. Granted libraries were few those days, but the dearth of competition for the children's attention meant that parents and children would gravitate toward reading to fill up the available time. By the time these children grow up, the reading habit is already ingrained in them, one that is not easily dislodged despite the later invasion of TV programs and computer games into their lives. I was one such beneficiary of the early environment.

Then along came my children. It was a nagging problem for wify and I on how to sustain the family tradition: reading. Two developments worked to our advantage as parents. Wify was a teacher. So having books was a given. And I was more than an avid reader. I collected and stocked up books. So the most popular piece of furniture in the house was the bookshelf. It was in the living room, in the dining room, in the bed room, even in the bathroom, within easy reach of anyone going about his/her business of answering the call of nature.

This ubiquity of books in every nook and corner of the house meant that the most natural thing for our children to reach for was a book. And through habitual action, instilled by our leading by example, our older children took to books like fish to water. In turn, the younger siblings learned from them. And soon reading just became second nature to everyone in the house.

Perhaps I should clarify that my children spent their formative years in Gainesville while I was a grad student at UF. Being a university town, bookstores were a fixture. We used to frequent Barnes and Nobles and Books A Million (those days there was no Borders), either to browse through their book collections or bringing the children to participate in all kinds of book- and literacy related activities.

We also frequented the downtown Public library en masse, checking out books that could last a lifetime for some people. Then there were the used book sales where we literally carted away boxes and boxes of heavily discounted books of all genres.

And yes, it does take investment, both time, and fortunately, limited financial outlay, to keep the reading enterprise afloat, at the family level. While the proliferation of easily accessible bookstores and libraries may help, I think parental role is instrumental in keeping the reading passion alive and burning. Parents who love reading beget children who would do likewise.

So if any parents are lamenting about the ebb of the reading tide, look no further but themselves. Personally, I think the greatest ability that one can wield is the ability to read. And by extension, the greatest legacy we can bequeath to our children is to help light up their fervor for reading, one book at a time. So why not start today? Pick up a book and read to your child. Better still, swamp the house with books if you can help it.

(This blog post has been inspired by People Reading.)

The 13th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association: Great Compassion

I tried a new approach to meditation in today's session, it being the 13th of the now monthly Dharma session organized by Middle Way Buddhist Association and held at its Pinellas Park venue. Previously, I have been using the Breath method, concentrating on the inhaling and exhaling to focus the mind, with some success. Then I read in Daniel Goleman's The Meditative Mind (Putnam Book, 1988, pg. 186) that “some of the most widely used concentrative meditations employ mantras as the objects of focus.” It cited “Om Mane Padme Hum”, a pithy Buddhist mantra, as an example. And that was what I did, today.

Effect-wise, it wasn't much different from the Breath method as random thoughts and pieces of sounds picked up by my hearing still wandered in and out of my mind, breaking up my silent chanting in the process. But I heeded the lessons that I have been taught: let the thoughts and the sounds make their way through, and gently bring the mind back to the mantra chanting.

I think I began to lose track of the time toward the later part of the meditation session, until I heard the chime signaling the end of the session. Reluctantly, I reentered the physical world to attend the Dharma talk by Bhante Dhammawansha that ensued. Calling it a discussion rather, Bhante said the time for Dharma discussion is auspicious, timely, fortunate, precious, and beneficial. So was the Dharma topic today: Great Compassion, or Mahakaruna. This is the Buddhist compassion that knows no limits. Also in Buddhism, wisdom and compassion go hand in hand.

Compassion can be defined simply as the heart warming, even melting, upon seeing suffering, which then precipitates a want to help. Unlike cruelty, it takes efforts to cultivate compassion. For example, most people would just smash a mosquito on one's arm with one's palm without giving it a second thought. A truly compassionate person would have to consciously let go of that killer instinct, and softly shoo the mosquito away. Most may also rationalize their “destructive” action on the “for the greater good” argument that mosquitoes are vectors of debilitating deceases such as Malaria and Dengue Fever. However, Bhante gently reminded us that while animals have single-point poisonous parts (for example, tails of scorpions and fangs of venomous snakes) in their bodies, ours is a whole-body arsenal of poisons. That's food for thought indeed.

So many times we seek and see happiness outside of and around us, but never feel the compassion inside. We must realize that what we see outside are tools to an end, including Dharma. An oft-cited Buddhist analogy is once we have crossed a river in a raft, we don't carry the raft with us but leave it behind for others.

When we practice compassion, there is no place in our mind for cruelty, for jealousy, and all the other negative human emotions. As His Holiness the Dalai Lama humbly proclaims, “My religion is my compassion.”

But as the cliché goes, it's easier said than done. How, then, can we cultivate and develop compassion? Bhante said we can start with doing the little things such as:

1) Do little things for others.

2) Speak kind words.

Then to expand the sphere of and elevate our level of compassion:

3) Realize that we will be helpless and hopeless one day. [Here the discussion shifted to cases of people committing suicide, say through a self-inflicted gun shot, just to escape the situation to which Bhante responded that the last thought that a person leaves this world with is important in determining his/her next life, perhaps one prone to wielding the same weapon to cause harm to others then. An attendee also posited that this very act would deny others the opportunity of giving. The proper thing to do is perhaps not to expect anything in return.]

4) Think everything as impermanent, thus laying a great seed to develop compassion.

5) Know yourself. We need to take care of ourselves first [not in the sense of serving our own needs first, but so that we are in a position to help others].

6) Listen to others' lamentations, hear the crying world.

7) Put ourselves in others' shoes [Brilliant scientists who develop and program mass weapons of destruction (chemical, biological) are likened as people with knowledge but without compassion.]

8) Have a calm, peaceful personality.

At this juncture, the sky started pouring, pelting the roof to a crescendo. It also afforded Bhante the chance to liken the rain to the shower of compassion, removing the desert in the heart just like the rain would make the plants rejoice and flourish.

Adding to the above list, an attendee suggested: think inter-connectedness, to which Bhante offered the term, one brotherhood.

To conclude, Bhante suggested that we keep a journal of good deeds that we have performed on a daily or weekly basis. One such entry could read: Today I smiled back to a person who got angry with me. At the end of the year, a reading of the journal would provide a glimpse into our compassionate journey and also spur us on to aspire to great compassion in the Buddhist sense.

In the midst of discussion, several attendees also touched on the issue of being vegetarians in consonance with the Buddhist precept of no killing, even though Buddha did not decree that one should not consume meat explicitly. As a matter of Buddhist Edict, Buddhism does prohibit eating meat prepared when one has witnessed the killing of the animal, one has heard the killing of he animal, and one has ordered the killing for the meat preparation, or that the animal was killed because of me. Then there are views that merely the act of consuming meat alone, even though it is not in violation of the Buddhist Edict, is tantamount to creating a demand for meat, and the same act is amounting to condoning the killing, or letting others kill for you. Another attendee also pointed to the moral high ground that some self-righteous activists position themselves to judge others. This is a complex, highly charged and emotion-laden human interaction that is surely beyond the ambit of this discussion to resolve. But Bhante's exhortations through the Buddha's words and his teaching are sobering:

“No harm to others because of me.” .... The Buddha

Do not have a differentiating mind.

As usual, the attendees feasted on a vegetarian lunch prepared by the various volunteers during which more exchanges of views, doubts, and explanations took place; but these would remain as private discourses among lay Buddhists since none of us have the “credentials”, as yet, to say one way or the other. But the contents did provide fodder for more self investigation through experiential learning.

A doubling of Wify with Arnold (left), and Sandra (right), two fellow attendees.

A Spiritual Dinner

This evening we participated in the International Dinner and FundRaiser for the benefit of Dhamma Wheel Meditation Society (DWMS) to realize its aim of expanding its meditation hall. The event was held at the Unity Church of Clearwater, located just next to the DWMS venue, which also serves as the residence of Bhante Dhammawansha, the resident monk of DWMS.

Wify prepared two dishes for the occasion, and we promptly brought them to the cafe area of Unity Church to be arranged along with numerous dishes from other volunteers. A brief ceremony was first held in the sanctuary, started off by the host, Rev. Leddy Hammock, the minister of Unity Church.

She first spoke of peace, succinctly contained in the following seven points:

1)War and violence do not work, and are counter-productive to the wellbeing of the human race.
2) Our worldview must change as treaties do not guarantee peace.
3) To do that, we have to change the human thought, our consciousness.
4) And we have to change our thoughts individually.
5) Love is the only thing that works.
6) One filled with love can overcome anger.
7) And when anger is released, we feel peaceful.

She then led the attendees through a peace prayer session. Bhante Dhammawansha next talked on self love, it being the remedy for everything. Self love comes from within, and its cultivation brings unity. He enumerated the following ways through which self love can be cultivated:

1) Cultivate the mind to avoid unwholesome thoughts and deeds.
2) Have a sense of humor, as it infuses one with self love.
3) Be humble and let go of your ego.
4) Appreciate your human life, one that's endowed with so many good qualities.
5) Cultivate non-violence.
6) Do others' duties.
7) See the suffering in the world.

In the words of the Buddha, “No harm to anybody because of me.”

He then invited his fellow Sangha members in attendance on to the stage to deliver a joint blessing in Pali. Thus blessed, all were invited to a spiritual dinner hosted at the cafe area.

The start of the vegetarian dinner. We were feted to music entertainment courtesy of the organist who was shielded from view by the waiting line to the right.

Bhante Dhammawansha (second from left) were seated at the library area just next to the cafe area with his fellow Sangha members, and they were having their own spiritual dinner indeed.

The dinner was a vegetarian fare, which we partook of mindfully. Thus ended a blessed evening, for a noble cause, spiritually fulfilled.

Oh yes, we each took a fortune cookie. And mine read: You will be pleasantly surprised soon. But I'm already.

A Great Buddhist Practitioner and Scholar

Garma CC Chang is a name that we first came across in an email from a Buddhist friend, inviting us to attend a two-hour special program delivered by his wife, Mrs. Helena Chang. We were intrigued by the brief biographical sketch of Prof. Chang given therein:

“He went to eastern Tibet to study Buddhism at age 16 and stayed there for 9 years. Master Chang was professor of Eastern Philosophy at Pennsylvania State University. He had made tremendous contributions in bringing Buddhism to the western world.”

Wishing to learn more about the remarkable journey that Prof. Chang had carved out for himself on his chosen Buddhist path, we did the most natural thing in the Internet Era: googling. Starting from his English name, we managed to locate his name in Chinese, after a few twists and turns in the virtual world. The first impression we got is that his Chinese name seems familiar. Then a whole slew of information unraveled when we googled his Chinese name.

We learned that he was born into a well-established family of military repute in China. His mother was a devout Buddhist, whose reverence for the Buddhist teachings had rubbed off on him in his formative years. He was proficient in Chinese, English, Tibetan, and Sanskrit, a very rare combination of linguistic fluency these days. This rare endowment, some no doubt acquired with tremendous perseverance, had placed him in good stead to help bridge the subtle differences among the original and various translated Buddhist scriptures to get to the common underlying themes. Equally important is his eminently ambassadorial role in helping to propagate the Buddhist philosophy to the West, which he had fulfilled exemplarily, by both delivering Dharma talks and writing English Buddhist texts. One of his early Chinese Buddhist texts, What is Dharma? (translated from Chinese), has become a very popular introductory text on Buddhism. He passed away in 1988, leaving a wealth of legacy to guide lay buddhists like us.

Because of our seeming familiarity with his name in Chinese, wify started looking through her collection of Chinese Buddhist texts, and located the above text published by the Buddhist Association of US, the provenance of which (as in from where) we are unable to trace.

Unlike other texts in the same genre that relies on historical development, this rather thin text (numbering less than 100 pages in the B5 format, about half the size of a foolscap paper) employed an effective three-pronged approach to elucidating the salient facets embodied in the Buddhist teachings.

Prof. Chang first resorted to comparative analyses involving other major faith systems to evoke the uniqueness and profundity of the Buddhist teachings. Next, the Mahayana tradition that posits everyone as imbued with the Buddha nature was employed to explain why we have yet to attain Buddhahood, and to illuminate why meditation is the foundation from which stillness, consequent upon taming the mind, will emerge, thereby laying a viable path, paved with wisdom, toward enlightenment. This “straight to the gut” approach provides a direct conduit deep into the essence of Buddhism.

The third variant then pinpointed our errant ways of living that delude us into embarking on the wrong path and identified several modes of Buddhist practice that, when incorporated into our daily routine, would help put us on the right track.. The last experiential approach is meant to make us realize the meaning of Dharma through self actualization.

I finished the entire book in less than an hour of continuous reading, the speed no doubt aided by my prior exposure to similar contents. I particularly like the presentation in this version (unfortunately it's undated, but see the cover, which is different from this electronic text) where concise statements culled from the gist of a particular section are laid out on top of every page for easy and quick reference. Some translated examples follow:

“A beginning is only relevant in the context of a particular event.”

“Buddhism is the belief of rationality; Dharma is the pursuit of wisdom.”

“The Buddha is not omnipotent. He is merely our teacher, and only our own efforts can truly liberate us.”

“The Buddha is the great emancipator through the elimination of greed, anger, and delusion. The Buddha will not be enraged into meting out disasters as punishment for our misdeeds.”

“If we descend into hell, it's because of our own karmic pull toward retribution. Such a cause leads to such an effect.”

“Equality, Tolerance, and All-inclusiveness lie in the core of the Buddhist Teachings.”

“Our experience through life is nothing but a journey of zero sum game of emotions and rationality where one can only grow at the expense of the other.”

“The co-arising of great compassion and great wisdom is the common goal of our learning efforts as lay Buddhists.”

“Our delusions are like torrents that escape our detection before we practice meditation.”

“The cause we plant in this life, may not reach fruition in this life. The effect in this life may also not be due to the cause we have planted in this life. “

I have also located his second Chinese Buddhist text on the Net: Buddhist Teachings in Four Communications (translated from Chinese), which will be my next reading assignment.

Prof. Chang also had several English books to his credit, one of which is entitled The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa, translated from the Tibetan text. According to Wikipedia, Jetsun Milarepa (c. 1052-c. 1135 CE) is “generally considered one of Tibet's most famous yogis and poets, a student of Marpa Lotsawa, and a major figure in the history of the Kagyu (Bka'-brgyud) school of Tibetan Buddhism. The essence of Milarepa lies in his writings rather than the legends that have grown up around him. The writings, often referred to as the Songs of Milarepa, are canonical Mahayana Buddhist texts and in particular emphasize the temporary nature of the physical body and the need for non-attachment.”

Then this morning I read this quote of him cited in Christina Feldman's The Buddhist Path to Simplicity (Thorsons, 2001, pg. 62):

“Long accustomed to contemplating compassion, I no longer see a difference between myself and other.”

And the barricade that we have placed around us, the so-called I/Ego, becomes emptiness. Instead, separate bodies and minds become connected and inter-dependent. This is the logical end that the noble path of compassion would take us, as was the case for Milarepa.

We are indeed fortunate and blessed that we have been invited to partake of the life of this great icon in the annals of Western Buddhism, through the words of his beloved wife, Mrs. Helena Chang. And we look forward to attending the occasion.

This image of the lotus flowers by wify is our tribute in memoriam of the late Prof. Chang.

An Afternoon of Compassion and Appreciation

We attended the 2007 Year End Appreciation and Blessing Dinner (well, perhaps a misnomer of sort since the event was held in the afternoon) organized by Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation U.S.A, Orlando Chapter held at USF today. This is our second time, the first being in 2005, a dinner held in the evening.

Themed Gratitude, Respect, and Love and Reverence to Heaven and Earth for Merit Accumulation, the event included dispensation of Words of Wisdom from Master Cheng Yen, the founder, the Review of 2007 Community Service and Tzu Chi Events, both as documentary films, and live performance of the sign language troupe, culminating in the Light Up Your Heart Ceremony.

The Themes in Chinese, with the bylines: Use the eyes of compassion to contemplate the various forms of all sentient beings; Use the ears of wisdom to discern the voices of all sentient beings.

Abiding by their motto “First to arrive, last to leave”, Tzu Chi volunteers have been over in 47 countries, rendering assistance, both medical, mental and physical, wherever and whenever calamities hit: earthquakes, fires, floods, droughts, hurricanes, tornadoes, as documented in the films. Their first priority is to provide personal assistance, through physical presence and demonstration of great love.

Seeing them in action, selfless and expecting nothing in return, the documentary nearly brought tears to my eyes. And here I am, lamenting about the inconveniences in life in relative affluence, mouthing compassion and yet staying within my comfort zone. One can pray and transfer merits as much as one so wishes, but nothing is more welcome to the victims of misfortunes than personal care and immediate relief. The Tzu Chi Foundation is deservedly a movement of compassionate relief, actualizing and propagating the Buddha's teachings in saving humanity from hardship, especially those who are least able to fend for themselves, transcending creed, ethnicity, and status.

It's patently clear that their relief efforts harbor no religious overtones nor overtures, with compassion as the sole driving force, as evidenced by their universal acceptance wherever their footprints cover. While its dedication to helping the aggrieved is beyond question, the Tzu Chi Foundation, led by its far-sighted leader, Master Cheng Yen, has also recognized the potential disasters that await the Earth in the not-so-distance future, a rather warm and wet one as projected by the International Panel on Climate Change, in the form of sea level rise and extreme meteorological events.

Mother Earth's inhabitants, the supposedly thinking ones, are spewing greenhouse gases, chief among which is carbon dioxide, in unprecedented amounts, thus setting off a chain of events that start from global warming, to ice sheet melting, to sea level rising, and to the loss of the coastal fringes, even entire islands. One of the messages in Master Cheng Yen's dispensation has to do with carbon reduction, and that it's everyone's responsibility. Everyone matters in this bid to save the world, and there is no better place to start than right from the very home of each and everyone.

Saving electricity by switching off unused lights, electrical appliances, and computers. And yes, those computers in sleep mode are still consuming electrical power as we speak, or I write to be specific about it. An attendee informed that merely by switching off the water heaters when not in use and having them turned on just half and hour before shower time saves his household electricity bill by $50 a month. And to think that the hot water in our home is always on demand, the electricity that is, I realize that I have played my part in contributing to the rise in energy consumption, and by extension, carbon loading.

Carpooling or even bicycling. Human energy is the most environmentally friendly, not to mention the health benefits accrued from pedaling. The majority of us are indeed pampered so much by technological advancement that we have to resort to indoor gyms to exercise, a classic case of using technological fixes to shed the extra pounds gained from eating gourmet food, again made possible by advances in amenities.

Using washable utensils. Tzu Chi volunteers always carry metal/porcelain chopsticks, spoons, and containers wherever they go. Even when they are not, they do not use disposal items.

Indeed as lamented by Master Cheng Yin, we have neglected the wellbeing of Mother Earth, abdicating our duties as responsible children of Mother Earth by sucking out every last ounce of her resources, and succumbing to greed, to grandeur that blinds us to the injuries inflicted on Mother Earth. Hence, the exhortations to cherish the treasure that we have, and to use the resources wisely.

Another message is that doing good and doing filial piety are two things in life that cannot wait. We must be grateful, respectful, and loving to our parents, our elders, and our teachers. We must curb our personal cravings, and reinstate/revive the filial way, observing decorum.

The performance by the sign language troupe was well executed, exuding warmth and softness of touch. This was followed by the lighting the candle and transmitting the light ceremony as a symbolic act of Lighting Up the Heart. The day's event ended with the making the vow ceremony and gift giving, after which the attendees adjourned to savor refreshments comprising various tidbits.

The sign language troup performing, transmitting the universal language of love and compassion.

The Song of Great Love: Thank you for the warm embrace, helping me to tide over the ebbs in my life. A heart filled with love to the brim, is not swayed by forceful wind. Learn to lend a shoulder for support. Smile with sincerity and understanding, and solve your worries by your side. Seeing the halt in your crying, even for a fleeting second, when you raise your head, envelops me in warm feeling through and through. I believe there is love in this world worth bidding. A heart long sealed is bound to open up. Understanding and forgiving will undo hurt. And loving kindness will remove suspicion. The most moving kind of love is trust.

The gift giving ceremony.

And these are our gifts: healthy non-meat powder food and packets and coins with inscriptions of wisdom gems, the former to ingest and the latter, to digest.

Drum roll ... the Tzu Chi volunteers, in the same resplendent and distinctive wear that is the hallmark of the Tzu Chi troupe.

Seeing is believing, we came home deeply moved by the experience, and at the same time thankful that there are such noble people amongst us who brave the elements, who traverse the uncharted territory far and wide, and who render assistance in far flung corners of the Earth just at a moment's notice. While wify and I have not committed ourselves to following their peerless paths, we do resolve to help out in their local assignments any way we can, both financially and in kind.