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November 16
Dear Shih Fu,
Sometimes the practice of the Bodhisattva Path is very "conceivable". We're perched on a sandy field of scrub oak and dry, dry grass. The Lompoc Federal Prison is over the hills to the west, and Vandenberg Air Force Base lies to the north. A more cheerless, bleak, November landscape is hard to imagine. The bowing is over for the day and the wind, which has been whipping the hilltops since noon now has some real teeth in it. I've lit the oil lamp to write these lines that occurred to me just moments ago as the sun fell, red and windswept.
A Bodhisattva's work is never done.; there is no 9 to 5 day in the job of cultivation. There is no Monday to Friday workweek, no retirement with bonus at 65. The Avatamsaka Sutra tells us that living beings have no end; they are infinite and boundless, yet the Bodhisattva has vowed to save them all. Therefore, his work does not end. A Bodhisattva saves himself, too, and by cultivating the Proper Dharma, he gains wisdom, compassion, and expedient power. This wisdom allows him to get involved in the gritty, muddy middle of the mundane world and work to save others right where they live and suffer most. However, the Bodhisattva has broken all attachments to his self. He no longer has desires, so his work for others gives him more happiness and satisfaction than a lifetime of leisurely vacations and selfish pleasure-pursuits. The Bodhisattva rests in his work and works while he rests. Life is work and work is bliss-a truly wonderful state of mind.
Just as I wrote the last line, out of the darkness came a knock on the car window and a tight voice said, "Uh, hey, we're stuck in the sand, can you give us a tow?" Heng Ch'au did not hesitate, but stepped outside, and found two unhappy men. He said, "Sure, be right there." We repacked the lamps and meditation gear and drove through the ruts and flying sand to extract a pickup truck and put it back on the road. Reciting the Great Compassion Mantra has become automatic whenever we aren't bowing or reciting ceremonies. Its strength lifted the truck out with ease, our Plymouth provided solid muscle as well. We walked through the headlights back to the car.
"Thanks, you guys, a real lifesaver," said the man greatly relieved.
"No problem," replied Heng Ch' au.
A small matter and easily accomplished, but it added cheer and light to this desolate central California coast.
At other times the events that occur in the practice of the Way are truly inconceivable. We see so little of what is actually going on in the world behind the façade of the senses. We just piece together bits and echoes of the actual reality. Bowing along on a Friday afternoon I suddenly sensed the Venerable Abbot's presence right in my heart. He sat in full lotus, reciting a mantra, apparently, and this image calmed my mind profoundly. Suddenly, fifty yards ahead I heard the sounds of screeching tires and a huge cloud of dust billowed up. Heng Ch' au later described the scene: apparently a driver fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the road. His car climbed six feet up a sharp embankment then turned, still speeding along, and zoomed straight down towards two cars and a truck that crowded the lanes below. Somehow, unbelievably, the car slipped between a van and a truck, missing both by a hair and continued on down the road, leaving several ashen-faced drivers badly shaken, but happy to be alive. Had the cars collided we would have been right in the middle of the scene-King Yama would have had a busy day receiving new souls from Highway 1. As it turned out, the Master's image faded from my mind moments later. What is really involved? Who saves all these lives from four hundred miles away, invisibly, without expecting a thank you or any recognition at all for the effort? I have no doubts that it was the Venerable Abbot's presence manifesting in the nick of time that prevented the collision on the road. Prove it? There's no other way to explain how the falling car shoe-horned its way back on the road. How many times have things like this happened in the lives of disciples: narrow escapes from certain death, when Kuan Shih Yin Bodhisattva appeared before people at the critical moment and then disappeared again after all was safe?
As we work to make our hearts a pure place, I've found myself always returning to the basics. For instance, the first thing a new Buddhist learns is how to put his palms together in respect. Joined palms indicate singleness of thought. As the work of cultivation is on the mind-ground, singleness of thought is most important. I noticed that my joined palms mudra has grown rather sloppy, with gaps between fingers and thumbs. Standing next to the Master last week at Gold Wheel Temple before he spoke Dharma, I watched him bow to the Buddhas. I was deeply moved. When the Master joins his palms there is a totality about it - a perfection that can only come from singleness of mind. I tried my new, improved, palms-together while bowing and the mindfulness to the external form did quiet my mind inside. The false thoughts were easier to subdue when my palms were fully joined, without gaps or leaks. Back to basics.
Witnessing the Master's bowing is a humbling experience, a good medicine for arrogance and a model for people and gods. His bowing is a completely magical transformation: when the Master bows, he disappears. His total lack of ego is revealed, he seems to become one with the Buddhas he bows to. I don't know the Master's state when he bows or at any other time, but something very pure and special happens when he bows before the Buddhas. There is just bowing. It looks as if there is no bower and no one bowed to, it is simple and profound reverence; wonderful to watch. Back on the road I am learning to bow correctly, from the beginning. Lower the ego to the ground as far as you can, with heart fixed on the Eternally Dwelling Triple Jewel, and then rise up and put your palms together with a single mind on the way to the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas.
Disciple Kuo Chen
(Heng Sure)
bows in respect