broadcast 08.12.04--it's my job

4 (first weeks in tushita, after ordaining – july august)

hi everyone,

This morning there’s a special ceremony at namgyal monastery to mark the start of the annual rains retreat. The start of the rains retreat is one of the three ceremonies recognised by all buddhist traditions – along with the conclusion of the retreat and the bi-monthly confession ceremony – and is very special. Basically it is a commitment to stay within the boundaries set by the monastery for the three months of the retreat – which doesnt mean i have to stay in the monastery itself as the boundary includes all of mcleod, tushita, and the mountain above tushita. (in italy – they do things with style over there – the retreat boundaries of a certain monastery extend 35 miles to include two supermarkets and a beach!) The ceremony is at 4 am, and during the night i listened to the monsoon downpour, thinking we’re going to get soaked on the walk down from tushita, but when i step outside my room at 3.20 am its a fantastic clear night sky that greets me. The walk down is really beautiful – hanging in the sky in front of us as we walk, high over the valley, the full moon is shining, like a letter from a friend. The silence of the mountain blends into the stillness of a sleeping mcleod, though even at this hour there are people at the bus stand, huddled over rucksacks half asleep, waiting for the first bus to wherever. But then we enter the monastery, aglow with soft yellow lights and the sweet wakefulness of hundreds of monks and nuns chanting softly.

In the dalai lama’s inner palace there is a corridor with simple wooden benches lining the wall on one side. Half way along, built into the wall, is an enormous door, which seems to be leaning backwards as if holding back some amazing force. If the door opened and someone stepped out, they would have to step onto the wooden back of the bench and then onto the bench itself before stepping onto the floor. Its the strangest door i have ever seen. I stood in front of it for a few seconds and took my own personal vow, with it as a witness.

at several points in the ordination ceremony we went up to his holiness in groups of three – to have our robes blessed, etc – and on one of these occasions he gave me this huge friendly pat on the shoulder that exploded in my body and mind, an unbelievable force that i really cant describe adequately, but which i interpreted as a "there! now run with it and make it your own!"

The ceremony itself was very smooth and well organised though not without its stressful side (you don’t want anything to go wrong!)– and it was a long, long day, full of prayers and ceremonies and pujas of various kinds, from 4 in the morning to 11 at night. The best part for me was right at the end of the evening: a light-offering ceremony around lama yeshe’s stupa in tushita in the cool of the evening, staying on alone until after 11pm making oceans of prayers of thankfulness for the help i’ve received in this life from everyone connected with me. If I had to say what has been the biggest change in my life over the last few years, its realizing that the language of prayer – aspirational more than petitional – exists and has its effect. We are always gaining or losing languages: in the west we are mastering the language of telecommunications (that achingly sweet blend of precision, cleanliness and isolation) but losing the language of prayer. The alphabet crumbles beneath the weight of computer languages, dictionaries of acronyms and the proliferation of pharmaceutical products. But the old languages can still be heard: it is still possible to hear dante’s ‘commedia’ in the original italian broadcast on short-wave radio while living in an almost empty block of flats that is on fire most evenings, or read descriptions of hastily disassembled houses floating down-river in medieval japan (lower level officials desperately chasing after the imperial court after its relocation from kyoto to tokyo) while waiting in an airport departure lounge. And its still possible to have conversations with infinitely extended perceptions of what we call the ‘world’.

I can stay at tushita for now, for free. So – barring accidents or illness - i wont be coming home this year, though i may have to if i decide to apply for a long term study visa. Its very quiet up at tushita but i still see the bustle of mcleod each day when i come down for class. On rainy days it’s a bit of a challenge walking down, plastic sandals slipping off my feet and my skirt getting soaked (but then today i rescue a beautiful tibetan dance student from monkeys and then we share my tiny umbrella as the rain starts, so its not always grim.) But on dry days it can be very beautiful.

Its only two hundred metres higher than mcleod but the temperature drop is noticeable – emphasized probably by the increased intensity of the monsoon in recent weeks. Walking up beyond tushita, onto the mountain where there are some stupas to visit and some serious long-term Tibetans living the meditator’s life, is sometimes to be walking in clouds. But I love the coolness and the breeze and am enjoying the various ways I can wrap my long upper robe around me, creating different degrees of insulation or ventilation. wearing the robes feels very natural on many different levels - when meditating, you realise this is precisely what they have been designed for: you feel like a mountain wrapped in these loose folds of spacious cloth; they are also relatively easy to wear in normal situations too, unlike the thai robes which i had a lot of difficulty with; and here in mcleod it feels totally natural because there are always monks on the street wherever you go (well, wherever i tend to go nowadays; i dont remember seeing any in the soul food cafe...).

I will probably be here until end of November – I will be returning to the village in Thailand where I was a temporary monk for a special funeral ceremony on dec 5^th (the father of my friend john’s partner, and the head of the sweet thai family that made my ordination out there possible). I’m also going out there on a visa run in mid-september, so I’m quite excited… especially since the study materials out there include a cdv of a film about a shaolin soccer team, and the real thing on satellite tv each weekend.

Today visited my old monastery – ZKL – and saw chuden for the first time since I ordained. He was very happy and tells me they still have the satellite connection going…

In a questionaire from an organisation which supports western monks and nuns i was asked why i ordained and what ordination means to me. here’s my reply:

"I wanted to ordain from the very beginning. My first teacher mentioned a belief from the Thai tradition: when you ordain, all your relatives from seven generations back, if they are presently in the lower realms, are immediately reborn in the higher realms. I knew I wanted to act with that kind of immediacy and scope and I knew it wouldn’t be possible within the career structure of Marks & Spencers. I also knew I was going to be a 21^st century monk, though I didnt know what I meant by this. Then two years ago I realised I had done the hard part – I had made it into the 21^st century – so I did a temporary ordination in Thailand.

When Bez (one of the members of the band ‘Happy Mondays’) was asked by a journalist why he took so many drugs he replied simply: ‘its my job.’ That’s how I feel about ordination: its my job. Its my job not to criticize the hunger, addiction and recklessness of our culture but rather to show that there are other, deeper, sweeter ways of being. Its my job to remind people that they are capable of becoming the kindest, most intelligent, creative, beautiful, exquisite creature that ever lived. Its my job to show that studying reality is a holy thing and that everyone can find for themselves a way of studying that feels uncontrived and oceanic. On the back of an envelope, next to a picture of a wandering Zen monk carrying a bowl of incense on his back and accompanied by a tiger, one of my teachers wrote: ‘bring more, carry less.’ Its my job to find out what he meant."

But on a darker note, I’m told that over 50% of western monks and nuns give back their vows at some point – young or old, newly ordained or twenty years down the line, decent souls and wild ones, it makes no difference. There simply isn’t the cultural support to keep people going in this way of life back in the west, and feeling that one has to stay out here in asia for the rest of one’s life has its own stresses. Right now I’m not worried about it (which is not to say that I think I am different in some way, just that I cant think about this right now)– all I can do is do my best and try and keep my inspiration and sense of humour. We’ve been told not to go crazy trying to be the perfect monk or nun – they are the ones who disrobe first! I have interpreted this advice as an open invitation to go back to ZKL once a week and watch the football (saturday: 'pool v spurs!) and walk around the mountain listening to ragga, soul and brazilain chill (get it ready for september, john!)... I hope this is not a misunderstanding on my part, but in any case the italians would understand...

Till next time,

Shenyen