Sunday, December 2, 2012

Make me one with everything...


I had intended to get this posted on Monday, but I’ve been sick for a few days and so haven’t gotten it done. It’s the first time I’ve been stay-in-bed sick in all of my time in Thailand so far, so I guess that’s not too bad. I’m glad to be feeling better though, as it was one of those flues that seems to affect pretty much every part of the body. I spent a bit of time amusing myself at one point with describing my various complaints like Snow White’s dwarves – I had Achy, Dizzy, Crampy, Grumpy, Sweaty, and occasionally Chilly, Shakey and Runny (I won’t go into which end Runny was concerned with). Add to that a few inflamed mosquito bites (Itchy) and a rather discourteous return of a few ants (Crawley) and I had the full complement of 7, plus 3 extra dwarves, all in the same bed. Not a very happy prospect, I can tell you!  Thankfully, things do change and pretty much the entire troupe has now “Hi Ho, Hi Ho’d” off to somewhere else.

It is now Dec. 1 and although I know I shouldn’t be complaining, I’m been having some twinges of missing cooler, drier air that doesn’t make one’s clothes stick to one, and suck the energy out of a person quite so effectively. I think maybe Grumpy is still hanging around actually as he keeps popping up. It’s been raining quite a lot the last few days and the air is very humid. The nights are cooler, but there is so much water in the air that the cool evenings make the dew fall almost like rain. The sun is shining brightly at the moment though.

I had a bit of an adventure last weekend when I went on a trip to visit another “Guru” sort of person, and to attend another Khaiten for a small forest temple. I left the temple here at around 4:00 AM Sat. morning in the company of several monks, nuns and other laypeople in a very full van and drove about six hours to the home of this teacher. I won’t say a great deal about him, as I’m not sure how much he wants to be advertised. It was very interesting to meet another “teacher” with some renown, however, and to see the vast differences in style and way of being that teachers have. I did feel quite honoured though, in that he gave me some special attention, some gifts, and a new name. Kind of cool. J

We stayed at his house on Sat. night and had dinner there, which was also rather an adventure for me. It was “country food” consisting of raw shrimp (cleaned but with tails on and soaked in a sauce of some sort), cooked whole shrimp, something apparently made from pig’s blood or some mushed up inner part of a pig (covered with a bit of blood for sauce – cooked I think), what I believe was cow intestine or stomach, rice, and some sort of soup. I made it through most of the raw shrimp, tripe, cooked shrimp, and rice, but didn’t eat much of the pig stuff. It’s all in what you get used to I guess.

Dinner
The next morning was the Khaetin celebration at the forest temple. The temple was very rustic and basic, but quite a pretty place with a small pond and trees drooping branches over the water. I’m finding that I am not very interested in ceremonial Buddhism at this point, but the monks did a bit of chanting that was quite relaxing to listen to, and I think meant to convey a blessing. There was also a big meal, served first to the monks (far more than they could eat) and then served to everybody else from what was left over – still more than we could eat.

After the meal we made a quick trip back to the house and then headed for home. The drive this time seemed to me to go on and on. We drove through small towns, past rice paddies being readied for new planting, and others with rice still nearing readiness for harvest, shanty-town looking vending stalls by the roadside all empty at this season with their thatched roofs in disarray, lakes and mountains, forests and a small city or two. Our driver was very good, but drove in the thai style of find a tailgate and stick to it until there’s a small opening in the other lane, dash around and jump back onto your own side in the nick of time, dodge the motorcycles, zoom up to the next slower vehicle, and so on. Everyone drives this way and it all works rather well. People make room for each other and I think they are able to bend space kind of like the Night Bus on Harry Potter, getting thinner at just the right moment so that more vehicles than are supposed to fit on a particular stretch of road can pass each other without colliding.

I found myself pondering what makes things ordinary or extraordinary on my way home. Here I was, zooming dangerously down a road in Thailand with a van full of monks after just visiting a guru of some apparent renown, and feeling like it was all fairly normal. Just me, sitting here you know…   J

My brother, Jeremy, and I were going to write a course about “Making the Ordinary Extraordinary”, at one time. I think that most of the time we actually do the opposite – we make the extraordinary world around us and all of our extraordinary experiences into just ordinary life. I suppose that a Buddhist would say that really, nothing is either ordinary or extraordinary. It just is…  There is a difference in experience between the dullness of “ordinary” and the vibrancy of “IS” however, even though they may refer to the same object or experience.

I have had some changing ideas about what it is that makes a “Master” or “Guru” in the sense of teachers of Buddhism, or perhaps teachers of “Truth” regardless of religion – though “truth” is a bit of a loaded word with many different meanings to different people. “Masters” it seems, tend to not fit into molds or stereotypes, not conform to social conventions, and not fit into one’s expectations. People have a tendency to put their teacher(s) up on a shelf and think that there can be no questioning, no disagreeing and the master can do no wrong. They create an illusion of what they expect and drape it over the “master” like a blanket – or perhaps more aptly, project it on him or her as if from a movie projector. Part of a “master’s” job, perhaps, is to sometimes shock people out of this by doing things that don’t fit the picture.

Ajahn Cha, a famous teacher from this area, says that enlightened beings live in the world just like worldy beings. They look like everyone else and you never know if the person you pass on the street is ordinary or extraordinary. The difference is that enlightened people know how to let go of what they feel and experience almost immediately and they have no need to follow the thoughts, feelings and desires so they don’t make them bigger.  They know that they are OK as they are, they don’t need to learn more or be more, so whatever is just IS and they don't make more suffering for themselves with their minds. That’s the only difference between ordinary and extraordinary.  

I've also been thinking about words and explanations, and their relative worth. It can be kind of freeing to consider the possibility that knowledge and thoughts and explanations like I try to give in some of these posts are all wrong anyway, because they are already gone. The words are records of experience that has already happened, in a context that no longer fully exists. They are useful, but only as a flowing part of experience that continues on without them. I hope that if you find things here that cause you to feel upset or to think too much or in other ways bother you that you will just let them go and consider them as unimportant and of no use to you - and accept my apologies...  It is not my intention to cause misunderstandings or difficulties!

A friend (thanks Fraser) sent this Zen poem that I like very much. In typical Zen fashion it has some extra meaning, “hidden” where words can’t go…

A Six line Poem
Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.



(Hint – you have to count the lines in order for this poem to have its full meaning)

Ajahn Cha compared learning about the “truth” as he saw it to the way a mango grows. (If you’re interested, here’s a link to the full text: http://www.ajahnchah.org/book/Knowing_World1.php) For those of us from colder climbs, an apple or zucchini would do just as well I suppose. J The point is that the apple or zucchini starts as a seed, grows into a plant, sprouts a blossom, goes through various stages of growing and ripening, and becomes a ripened fruit. In the same way the poem above explains there is a time to know that there is God, there is a time to know that “I am” there is a time to just be and…  For all things there is a season and a time and we each are ripening in our own way and own time. A good teacher, like a good gardener, gives what is needed (not what is expected) at the time that it is needed.

One of the teachings that seems to be in its “time” right now around here is to have and express an intention to let go of expectations in all ways and of all types. Keep giving away expectations and you will eventually begin to automatically act without expectation and to live without expectation. This is a big step in freedom…

Well, I think I’ll stop writing here before my attempts to explain things become even more confusing. I think it’s helpful to not take any of it too seriously, so I’ll end with another little story that I quite like, with thanks to Andrew for sending it to me:

A Zen monk walks into the pizza parlour.

Cook: What do you want to order?
Monk: Make me one with everything

The cook makes the pizza and gives the monk his pie. The monk pays with a fifty and waits to get his change back but no change is offered.

Monk: Hey, where's my change?
Cook: Real change comes from within.
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So that's it for this time.  One note though - apparently making comments is not working very well for some of you. That's OK actually, as I don't get a chance to read them very often anyway. It would be better to send a note to me via email as then I will be more likely to actually see it. If you don't have my email address, it's: stormchild1@gmail.com

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