Remembering Garma CC Chang: A Buddhist Scholar-cum Practitioner's Quest for the Universal Truth, the Buddhist Way

Yesterday was Memorial Day here in US, a day devoted to honoring all military veterans. To me, it's also a befitting day to hold in memoriam of a great Buddhist scholar-cum-practitioner whose single-minded quest for the universal truth has illuminated the path for those who come after him, especially those who wish to learn more about the Mahayana tradition of Buddhism relevant in the milieu of western philosophy.

He is none other than the late Garma Chen-Chi (CC) Chang (Garma being is Dharma name in Tibetan), whose passing exactly twenty years ago almost to the date marks yesterday as a special one of note. I first came upon the name several months back from an email invitation from Sister Nancy to attend a talk to be given by his surviving wife, Mrs. Helena Chang as blogged here. The talk was later postponed due to unforeseen circumstances, until two days ago on May 24, 2008.

Until two days ago, I was still scouting the Internet on any form of biography that could afford a glimpse into this great man of scholarship and selfless contributions in propagating the teachings of the Buddha despite formidable odds at the personal level. The best I could find is this biographical sketch (in Chinese) that is more factual than on what drove Garma CC Chang on his epic quest, with occasional anecdotes of how his way has influenced others most fortunate to have crossed paths with him and excerpts from two eulogies written by the late CT Shen and Venerable Ri Huei. However, I was not able to find the full texts of the two eulogies online.

The other valuable online source in this regard is CT Shen's 1996 talk on his learning sojourn in Buddhism, again in Chinese, wherein he paid a glowing tribute to his mentor and friend, Garma CC Chang. In his talk, CT Shen, another great Buddhist practitioner whose philanthropy in bestowing to the Buddhist cause is legendary and who passed away recently in 2007, attributed Garma CC Chang as the second most important personality in influencing beneficially his own somewhat similar journey, second only to his own mother.

Thus, I began to piece together in a somewhat rudimentary manner the man behind the name who had brought one of the original works in Tibetan Buddhism to the western world, the translated text entitled The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa as early as the 1950s. But a more complete picture did not emerge until I attended the rescheduled talk given by Mrs. Helena Chang on May 24, 2008, at the clubhouse of the residence of Peter and Nancy Kau, amidst the serene setting abutting a placid pond teeming with life, both botanical and zoological, in the company of like-minded Buddhist practitioners and lay followers gathered on this auspicious occasion, the soft and unhurried tone of Mrs. Helena Chang silently reverberating through the room, resonating with the rapt audience who could only marvel at both her lucid memory of events dating back to the first half of the 20th century and her systematic narrative of her husband's epic journey through life's vicissitude but never harboring for a moment a single doubt on his personal quest to help humanity understand the universal truth embodied in the teachings of Buddha.

Through it all we also gained a better perspective of the woman behind every great man, the unsung pillar of support, both in spirit and in deeds, a woman whose slight build belies her fortitude, her silvery hair and knowing eyes unveiling a lifetime of wisdom, seemingly at ease with the personal trials and tribulations that pulsated through her verbal account.

The comfortable clubhouse setting before the talk. The man standing at the back is Mr. Yang who took the group picture shown toward the end and hence was not featured there.

At slightly after 10.30am, we first observed a one-minute silence, offering prayers for the recent disaster victims of Cyclone Nargis in Myanmar and Sichuan Earthquake in China. After a brief introduction by Peter Kau, we settled in to the one-hour-and-a-half long delivery in Chinese by Mrs. Helena Chang, seated facing us in the front.

Mrs. Helena Chang, stressing a point during her delivery.

She preambled her talk by informing us that there has only been another occasion when she spoke on a similar topic, lasting 15 minutes at Penn State where her late husband was a professor of religious studies. So we were indeed blessed and honored to have partaken in this rare event, thanks to Nancy Kau who had kindly made all the arrangements for the event.

What followed was an eventful trek through space, a diaspora traversing across China, Tibet, India, Taiwan, Hongkong, US (New York, California, Nebraska, Wisconsin, Colorado, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Georgia), and time covering a greater part of a century. Along the way, they were assisted by many friends and colleagues and in turn, had had a profound beneficial influence on those who crossed path with them, at the end of which lies a treasure trove of Buddhist scholarly works, both translated and original English and Chinese writings that bear testimony to the indelible contributions of Garma CC Chang in propagating Buddhism into the American sphere.

Their journey through life was riddled with constant struggles at the initial stages of settling in US, one perhaps not uncommon for Chinese immigrants in the 1950s who found the going tough. But as the saying goes that as the going gets tough, the tough gets going, those challenges, while seemingly daunting, did not deter them from embarking on their translation efforts, unshaken from their belief that Buddhism would show him, and along the way others as well, the way to the ultimate truth of life. Mrs. Helena Chang summed up five great handicaps that they had to surmount in their translation efforts:

- failing eyesight for both (it's only now that this debilitating ailment is recognized as glaucoma marked by an inability to focus);

- his back problem;

- their uncertain citizen status;

- his hereditary heart problem;

- and language barrier.

Theirs was a triumph over trials and tribulations, driven by a zeal etched in the teachings of the Buddha.

While Garma CC Chang was perhaps best known for his epic translation works that resulted in the publication of the Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa, what drove him to write the Practice of Zen, his first English Buddhist text, were no less onerous. For a time, he had been pondering the nexus between western philosophy and Buddhism as it emerged at its source in India, a thought process that prompted him to learn Sanskrit and Pali. He noted further that the Hippies movement then had latched on to the somewhat mystic appeal of Buddhism. But the prevailing Buddhist thought then among the westerners was dominated by the Japanese Zen school spearheaded by T. Suzuki. The over-emphasis on instant enlightenment to the exclusion of assiduous practice seemed to have created a hiatus that bypassed the preparatory imperatives intended in Buddhism.

So he set off to write the Practice of Zen, his first English Buddhist text. He approached Harper (then the Collins part was still not yet developed), giving them two weeks to accept his draft, oblivious to the need for prior review and daring in that he had no track record in publishing). And at age 40, he signed his first publishing agreement, receiving an advance from Harper.

In the words of Kenneth Ch'en, who reviewed this book back in 1961 that appears in Philosophy East and West, Vol. 11, No. 3 (Oct., 1961), pp. 174-176 (University of Hawaii Press), which still ring true today:

“To the growing list of books on Zen Buddhism in English, Mr. Chang Chen-Chi has made a significant contribution. However, the author differs from many of the contemporary writers on the subject in that he has not been influenced by Japanese writers on Zen Buddhism. Again, he is not writing his account from secondary sources, but has gone back to the primary materials in Chinese. Finally, through his years of residence and study in Tibetan and Chinese monasteries, he has acquired a profound knowledge of the wider aspects of Buddhist philosophy that is fundamental to the proper understanding of Zen theory and practice... The author aims to show from these selections how Zen masters lived and worked – in other words, how they practiced Zen – in the hope that these might serve as examples for beginners at the present time. In addition to these translations, there are also discussions on the nature and problems of Zen. In the latter category, he seeks to throw some lights on such questions as, Is Zen completely unintelligible for the intellect? as Suzuki insists, and, What is Zen enlightenment? In answer to the first question, the author makes this sensible distinction between understanding Zen and realizing Zen, and that “to understand Zen through an intellectual approach is not reprehensible, but is the only way for the beginner, for who can get into Zen without having first some understanding or conceptual knowledge about it?” (p. 117) ...”

On Buddhist friends, one who stood up in particular is the mentor-mentee relationship he had with CT Shen, a great Buddhist practitioner and philanthropist whom he first met in India in 1950 and subsequently in US where he imparted Tibetan Buddhist teachings to Shen through several one-to-one sessions in the 1960s. But Garma CC Chang declined to be cited as his teacher, saying that he was only doing that on behalf of his Tibetan Master, the late Lama Gong Kar. [These interactions were recounted in CT Shen's 1996 talk of his learning journey following the Buddhist path.]

The Hundred Thousands Songs of Milarepa, the text of which was entirely typed, is now in its second edition in a two-volume hardcopy set. Selected chapters are also available in paperback, one of which, Sixty Songs of Milarepa, is available freely on the Net here.

Health-wise, he had his first heart operation in 1974 at New York, and a second one in 1984. And he passed away on May 25, 1988, a passing missed by all who have crossed paths with him, either in person or through his writings.

In CT Shen's 1996 account of his own journey on the Buddhist path, he had described his journey by using a set of verses from a Chinese poem of the Tang Dynasty, about overcoming all odds and emerging that much fortified and wiser after life's litmus tests. I could not have done better in summing up the epic journey traversed by Garma CC Chang except by using the same two verses, but appearing in a slightly different version (taken from here) as appeared in the image at the top, using the Plum Blossoms as a symbol of rectitude, a no-less fitting depiction of his steadfast belief in the universal truth enshrined in Buddhism, and the unwavering support from his wife, to make their legacy available to all of us. Here then are my translation of the two verses, hoping that they would transmit the same gist in spirit as their Chinese counterpart:

Without the ordeal of the bone penetrating frigid cold,

absent the nose-thrilled fragrance of the Plum Blossoms.

The blessed group, including Mr. Yang, the photographer who is not in the picture but appeared in an image above.

Mrs. Helena Chang with wify at the residence of Peter and Nancy Kau, our gracious hosts for the day.

Celebrating Buddha's Birthday and Mother's Day Festival

The Month of May is a blessed month for Buddhists all over the world. It is in this month that Vesak Day is celebrated, commemorating the birth, the life, and passing of the Buddha. Hence, in May, Buddhist temples and centers the world over organize a rolling series of celebrations for local Buddhists and lay persons alike.

As in past years, we participated in a couple, and will be attending another one toward the end of the Month. Guang Ming Temple of Orlando is one such venue. To take advantage of the Mother's Day that also falls in the month of May, the organizers have combined the two into a Celebrating Buddha's Birthday and Mother's Day Festival on May 11 (Sunday). And there's where we headed last Sunday.

The day's programs included Buddha's bathing ceremony, Chinese book fair, and cultural performances. We arrived in the afternoon to join a throng of people mingling in the courtyard. This is our second visit to the temple, but the first after it has become fully functional. The first visit occured in July 2006 when wify attended the Taking the Three Refuges Ceremony conducted by Master Hsing Yun, the founder of Fo Guang Shan (the Buddha Light Mountain). Then only the Main Shrine (Precious Hall of the Great Hero, literaly translated from Chinese) was essentially completed for the ceremony to be held within its august bowel.

This time, the completed temple looks majestic with its gently upward curving roof line, like dragons on the verge of soaring high, and the architecture, elegant against the backdrop of azure sky. The morning service was already over when we arrived. So we helped ourselves to bathing the Buddha, after which we sauntered upstaris to view the Arts exhibition and visited the Book Fair held at the third floor. Here then is a pictorial chronicle of the sights as we sampled the events of the day on this auspicious day in the month of May.

The courtyard lined by food and souvenir stalls (just beyond the view to the sides here), the two tents providing shade from the afternoon sun for the audience enjoying the open-air performances. The small figurines standing on top of the roof edges are molded shapes of animal form (mythical? I can't tell).

A Kung Fu troupe just finishing performing and its protagonists of various ages lining up to deliver a traditional Chinese salute, the Shaolin style, a fist pressed against an open palm. According to the brochure on Guang Ming Temple, the geometric rectangles seen covering the floor of the courtyard "symbolizes rice paddies with weed growing around the edges. We meditate to help remove the weeds and desires from our mind so the harvest will be plentiful. It is also named "the great way to Buddhahood" because we need to walk through it to reach the Main Shrine (Buddha Hall). [Note that the courtyard is used for walking meditation.] Our mind is like the rice paddy. If we plant good seeds then we can reap merits and attain Buddhahood." Also, one of the two lions at each top corner of the courtyard is visible toward the back. "Lions represent bravey, strength and courage since the lion is the "king of all animals". Lions serve as guardians to ward off evil, and since the lions roar is very loud, it helps to awaken us from ignorance", the brochure continues.

Wify engaging with Sister Lana and an American attendee in front of a souvenir stall. In the background stood two Venerables looking at a game of rolling up balls along an inclined chute so that they would fall into holes at the top of the chute in progress. I guess this must be the brain child of the YAD, standing for the Young Adult Division of Buddha’s Light Int’l Association.

The tall urn, standing like a sentinel on guard at the entrance to the Main Shrine.

The Main Shrine fronted by a tableful of four baby buddhas facing each of the four cardinal directions amidst the floral arrangement. The centerpiece beyond is a porcelain white statue of the Buddha flanked by the Chinese inscription of the Heart Sutra, which in turn are abutted by about 80 images of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva (Guanyin Pusa), who is "the embodiment of great compassion for the troubled and suffering of the world. She will come to the aid of anyone who invokes her name sincerely and mindfully."

Wify doing the honor of bathing the buddha with a wooden ladle, rather gingerly.

CE's turn (actually this was taken about a week after when CE, and WT, came with us to attend the Dharma Talk delivered by Venerable Yung Han on May 17, but it did fit in with the occasion nicely, don't you think?)

The Gatha for bathing the Buddha in Chinese and English. They were actually pasted on two pillars opposite to each other but were combined here.

The significance of bathing the buddha described in English and Chinese. Again these appeared on opposite walls. You would have to click the image to be able to read the contents that would surely enlighten you appropriately.

Some of the drawings displayed on the wall at the Arts gallery on the second floor.

The entrance to the Book Fair on the third floor. Wonder what the parasols signify?

Wify leafing through a book at the Gardening and Hobby Section.

2008 Change Your Mind Day, April 19, 2008

The third segment of the blissful day of April 19, 2008 (read here and here for the first and the second segments, respectively) comes in the form of our attendance at the 2008 Change Your Mind Day (CYMD) organized by the Tampa Bay Chapter of Buddhist Peace Fellowship held amidst the scenic setting of Phillippe Park, Safety Harbor.

According to the organizers, "CYMD began in New York's Central Park in 1993 and is now celebrated in over 30 cities. This is the fifth year that the event will be held in the Tampa Bay area."

Featuring a day of Buddhist meditation and much more, it is billed as "a joyful celebration of the diversity of Buddhist traditions", encompassing Mahayana, Vajrayana, Theravada, Tibetan and Zen. And the serene setting at the water's edge that Phillippe Park offers is just the perfect place for the blessed event, re-creating the environment in which "Buddhist teachings were presented in the time of the Buddha: outdoor, relaxed, and informal".

Our entourage included Venerables Chueh Fan and Chueh Yen from Guang Ming Temple of Orlando, and we left after our morning Dharma session held at the Middle Way Buddhist Association's venue at Pinellas Park, arriving at Phillippe Park after lunch.

The day-long schedule comprised 10-30 minute slots of presentation by various local Buddhist groups in a variety of formats: chanting, singing, discussions, introductions, bathing the Baby Buddha, and offering of alms food to the monastics.

We stayed long enough to partake of several post-lunch mind nourishments provided by the presenters on behalf of their respective groups and took home with us a real sense of the diversity of pathways that converge on the three pillars of Buddhist teachings: Precept, Concentration, and Wisdom, as summarized in the pictorial running log that follows (Please visit here for more images of the day's event).

Several tents put up by various local Buddhist groups around the Shelter area where the events were conducted.

Members of MWBA flanking the Venerables from Guang Ming Temple after arriving at the venue from Pinellas Park (from L to R: Wesley, Mary, Venerable Chueh Yen, Venerable Chueh Fan, Wify (Bee), Tom, and Jordan).

Steve Shealy of Flowing Dharma introducing Mindfulness Practice. For the entire 15-minute, Steve remained in that standing position, save turning the head gradually to scan the audience to observe their efforts at maintaing mindfulness and occasionally looking at his watch so as to remain within the alloted time span, actualizing what he teaches effortlessly. I too tried to emulate by remaining motionless while standing and locking my gaze on him when he started to invite the audience to follow his instructions about 5 minutes into his presentation, ignoring the mounting strain on my legs for refusing to shift weight that gradually evolved into a kind of numbness. Boy was I glad when his time was up.

The Dzogchen Buddhist Society of Tampa chanting A Short Sadhana (Formal Tibetan). The chanting, in Tibetan, was fluent and calming, despite my ignorance of the language.

The two Venerables chanting the Heart Sutra in Chinese. This is a familiar chant to us and I could sense that Wify was following suit. Later I confirmed with her that she did, together with Sister Lana from Orlando who drove the two Venerables here.

The two Venerables reciting A Prayer for the People Who Listen to the Dharma, in English. The full text follows.


Venerable Chueh Fan explaining the Humanistic Buddhism of Master Hsing Yun, founder of Fo Guang Shan (Buddha's Light Mountain) with the four-fold mission of Propagating Buddhist teachings through cultural activities, Nurturing talents through education, Benefiting societies through charitable programs, and Purifying human hearts and minds through Buddhist practices.

Richard Weissman of Ratnashiri Sangha of Tampa Bay speaking on Vajrayana: "Good in the beginning, good in the middle & good in the end", which he elaborated as Establishing altruistic motivation, Practicing Chenrezig Mantra and Daily Yoga, and Dedicating merits to sever attachments as an antidote for clinging and self-grasping. Chenrezig is the Tibetan Buddhist Buddha of Compassion, and is also Buddhisattva Avalokiteshvara, and is more popularly known among Chinese Buddhists as Guang Yin Pusa, the Goddess of Mercy. The Chenrezig Mantra is also one I chant on a daily basis, OM MANI PEME HUNG. However, I learned more on the meaning of each syllabus that day from Richard:

OM - HUMILITY, antidote to PRIDE;
MA - REJOICING, antodote to JEALOUSY;
NI - NON-ATTACHMENT, antidote to DESIRE;
PE - WISDOM, antidote to IGNORANCE;
ME - GENEROSITY, antidote to GREED;
HUNG - COMPASSION, antidote to ANGER.

[According to Wikiepedia, "Vajrayana Buddhism, also known as Tantric Buddhism, Tantrayana, Mantrayana, Mantranaya, Esoteric Buddhism, Diamond Vehicle, although these terms are not always regarded as equivalent, is an extension of Mahayana Buddhism consisting of differences in the adoption of additional techniques (upaya, or 'skillful means') rather than in philosophy."

The 15th Dharma Session of Middle Way Buddhist Association: The Dependent Origination in Our Daily Life, Part II (The Dharma Talk)

The Dependent Origination in Our Daily Life. That's the topic of the Dharma talk delivered by Venerable Chueh Fan from Guang Ming Temple, Orlando, on April 19, 2008 on the occasion of the 15th Dharma Session organized monthly by Middle Way Buddhist Association and held at its Pinellas Park venue. It was after our meditation session in the morning. Amidst our usual mutual introduction session, Venerable Chueh Fan and her temple assistant arrived, lugging some high-tech equipment that one rarely associates with the dignified aura of solemn gathering enveloping a Dharma event: laptop, slide projector. Just to demonstrate that while Buddhism is steeped in tradition, it also embraces the advances of the time and moves in tandem with the social changes. In other words, relevant to society as befitting the outlook of Humanistic Buddhism advanced by Venerable Hsing Yun, the founder of the Buddha Light school.

The mobile screen was set up, the slide projector connected, the laptop whirred into action, and a smiling Venerable Chueh Fan scanned the attendees who were rapt in attention, with bated breath. Thus rolled the first slide into our view, and more, unloading an aspect of the profound teachings of the Buddha, highly condensed into nuggets of wisdom, into our consciousness.

All phenomena do not arise out of nothing.

They cannot exist alone by themselves.

They arise out of causes and conditions.

The simplest to the profound teachings say that all phenomena do not exist by themselves.

Phenomena are the product of a combination of causes and conditions.

Causes and conditions are the basic factors underlying all phenomena.

The recurring thesis, and in fact, truism, in the above succinct statements, is clear, is beyond doubt. To borrow an oft-seen commercial on TV, it's clarity clear. To illustrate simply, causes are the primary factors, for example, a seed, while conditions are secondary factors, such as soil, sunlight, the ambient environment that is conducive for the germination of a seed.

An affable Venerable Chueh Fan engaged the audience instantly.

And the attendees gave their undivided attention to the lucid illustration of dependent origination in our daily life.

A closeup of Venerable Chueh Fan, at ease with the paraphernalia of a high tech presentation and expounding on Humanistic Buddhism. It reminds me of the title of John Naisbitt's book, High Tech, High Touch (Broadway, 1999).

On further expounding, Venerable Chueh Fan admonished us to develop appreciation for events as they occur, for things never occur twice. The enlightenment of the Buddha is merely having been awakened to the truth, that dependent origination is a universal principle. Hence, all phenomena are interdependent, and cannot be permanently unchanging, which leads to another truism, impermanence.

The mind is the focus of Buddha's teachings as it encompasses all ideas, thoughts, speech, and feelings. It's the mind that drives our cravings, consuming wantonly, adoring speed, always chasing after the latest, the newest, the biggest. Through these mindless pursuits, a litany of social problem erupts: family/child abuse, gunfire, killings, etc.

To stem the moral decay and the deterioration of social order, Humanistic Buddhism advocates harmonization and co-existence. In other words, we are in this business of living together. This is best exemplified by a simple parable, as eloquently presented by Venerable Chueh Fan.

One day, a farm mouse discovered that the farmer had received a package, and much to its consternation, it was a mouse trap. Frightened out of its wits, the mouse frantically sought help from its farm neighbors:

The rooster: “It's your problem.”

The pig: “It's none of my business.”

The cow: “It's not for me.”

The mouse was patently upset, for the lack of empathy from its neighbors. And it seemed it had to tackle the matter by itself.

The next day, a commotion broke out. Apparently, the mousetrap had caught something, but not the intended victim, but the tail of a sidewinder, a venomous snake. While trying to clear the trap, the farmer's wife was bitten, and subsequently developed high fever. What did the farmer do?

He took an ax to look for the rooster so as to prepare a chicken soup as a cure for his ailing wife.

When that did not help and his wife's condition worsened, his neighbors and friends came to offer him comfort and medical help, and he served pork to the well-wishers.

Unfortunately, the wife passed away, and the farmer had to slaughter the cow to thank those who came to offer their condolences.

The moral of the story: We all share the same boat. So step up and help.

Two essential facets of Humanistic Buddhism are equality and compassion. Ever wonder why monks/nuns shave their heads? Because in Ancient India, hairstyle was symbolic of social status. Hence, shaving the head signals equality, which facilitates integration. Similarly, compassion fosters co-existence.

On family bliss, live appropriately and develop good affinity. It takes ten years to share a boat, but a hundred years to become a couple. And note that grumbling is not suffering. Smile, pay regard, and show a little concern, and we will change the world.

Another story, this time between the dry wood and fire, over which is essential for the rice making. More wood, the burning is faster. Larger fire, the wood is burnt at a faster rate. In the end, both vanished faster simultaneously: the wood having perished, and the fire, extinguished.

The moral: sharing, not competition.

Understanding dependent origination in our daily life, we can begin to discern how changes take place, and identify the sources of human suffering. That understanding also brings joy to the mind as dependent origination shows us how to live, by teaching us that we are not helpless victims doomed to lives of misery, and that our future lies in our hands.

One of Master Hsing Yun's teachings exhorts us to just enjoy the moment of the thing rather than to own it.

Impermanence does not imply deterioration. It can be for the better! Imagine a box of white and black balls. By putting more white balls into the box, we will cover up the black ones eventually, but that does not mean that the black balls are not there. In this analogy, the white balls are good deeds while the black, past unwholesome deeds or bad karma. We cannot erase the past, but we definitely can strive to put more white balls into our karmic box.

Realizing impermanence, we become detached and cease craving.

On that note, the Dharma talk, and the ensuing lively discussion that it generated, came to a blissful end, and we all adjourned to a feast of vegetarian lunch during which more individual exchanges took place. A group of us, Venerable Chueh Fan included, bade an early retreat at the conclusion of the lunch and made a beeline to Phillipe Park at Safety Harbor to attend the afternoon session of the Change Your Mind Day organized by the Tampa Bay Buddhist Peace Fellowship, which shall be the concluding part of my blogging trilogy on the blissful day of April 19, 2008. Stay tuned.

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.