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Saturday, May 14:
Dear Shih Fu,
We continue to bow about one and a half miles a day, averaging five hours of bowing and one and a half hours of 20-minute rest periods in between each hour. We rise at 4:00 for morning recitation and finish by 6:00 p.m. to wash and recite evening recitation as always. The day also includes a t'ai chi ch'uan lesson from Dharma Master Ch'au in the morning and a short reading and translation of the Avatamsaka Sutra at night before we recite the first lines of the Shurangama Mantra forty-nine times and then pass out. We are living in one of the upasaka's old Falcon van, sleeping out on the streets of L.A. and washing in the park. Our lunch comes from several Dharma protecting upasikas. The upasakas and upasikas are watching over us with care. They are working to make our trip go smoothly - getting letters from the police, giving us coins for parking meters, etc. The other morning when it rained, we bowed in the Woo's garage and ate lunch there. We bowed through a tough neighborhood called Lincoln Heights. We reached the front of Lincoln High School just as classes finished. We were immediately surrounded by forty or fifty jeering, shouting, swearing rowdies. When they saw their words couldn't move us, they began to bow along behind us, until we had fourteen bows in line bowing to the Avatamsaka Sutra. They all grew more respectful after about six bows - the toughest ones couldn't keep it up - and they went away, silent and sober. No more trouble that day.
The next day at 10:00 I had the sudden awareness that somewhere the demon armies were working up another test for us, a challenge that would appear before long. Friday morning as we neared the end of Lincoln Heights at 10:15 I sensed something up ahead, but I have taken my glasses off and have glued my eyes to my nose for the rest of the journey, so I don't see many details on the road. Heng Ch'au told me later what he saw. A gang of five older men gathered at a taco stand on the corner. One of them was a real demon - ugly, with a misshapen body like a pear. He was jumping around and pointing at us and in his hand he carried a five-foot, sharpened, twisted metal whip. He moved a trash can in front of our path to block the walk and he began to beat it with his whip, making a great noise and denting the sides of the can, all the time pointing at us and trying to provoke his buddies into a similar rage. Heng Ch'au says he was a genuine, big-league baddie, beyond the reach of reason or words. As I bowed along I didn't see any of this, but suddenly I had the strong feeling of invisible aid, a wonderfully good, powerful presence. I had a great feeling of calmness and light.
Heng Ch'au says that as I bowed right into the middle of the group at the taco stand, the leader suddenly went out like a light. He lost his anger and he grew very obedient, like a small child. The others sat motionless at their tables as I bowed around the garbage can below their feet and walked on across the street to bow on the other side. A young, clean man stepped out of his doorway and asked politely, "Can you tell me about your religion, please? I'm very impressed by what you are doing…" and Heng Ch'au told him briefly what the trip was for. He explained quite well.
I can't say for certain who was there leading us through the streets of Los Angeles, but it certainly felt like there were some special responses that morning.
If there is a living being who has a thought of hostility towards the Bodhisattva, the Bodhisattva also vies him with kind eyes. To the very end he has not the slightest anger. Avatamsaka Sutra "Ten Transferences Chapter"
disciple Heng Sure
bows in respect
Some false thoughts and recollections: a group of disciples brought picnic lunch and change for the parking meters. I can't begin to fathom Chinese social rituals and protocol. In Chinatown an old couple (Mandarin) exclaimed, "Why, they're foreigners!" No, I thought, we are just bringing over the quality stuff you forgot (Buddhism). In fact, until we are all enlightened, we are all foreigners.
Heng Sure's pants are back, fixed and patched with a bright Hawaiian floral print. The long robe helps cover the patch and keep a proper deportment: for such and inconsistency. People are skeptical, they scrutinize everything we do - from our shoe laces to where our eyes wander. No room for mistakes or indulgence.
Steering the Middle Way with offerings is hard. When we get "junk," we fix it up by rinsing off the oil, diluting the sugar, and sewing the holes with patches. When we get "gold," we tarnish and cover it. Think we'll dye the circus hobo pants Bhikshu brown and gray.
Lay disciple: "Well, you'll be out of L.A. in a month."
Monk: "Oh?"
Lay disciple: "Yeah. I figured the hardest part is over (Lincoln Heights). Chinatown is a little better, and Beverly Hills, no problem."
Monk: "The hardest part is inside. It's never easy."
Lay disciple: "Oh." (smile of recognition)
Bowing: Sometimes after countless ups and downs, comings and going on the cement, there is simply nothing. Sounds, conversations, hecklers, restaurant smells, cigarette butts - no problem. At times, even the "me" gets lost, unimportant, blended into it all, yet untouched and separate. Patience and humility comes easier after bumping noses with ants in between lumps of welded chewing gum and broken bottles. It's just fine. The place to be now. Cleaning house, inside-out.
Chinatown:
- Least Buddhist of all. Animals being slaughtered openly ("fresh").
- On main corner: We are bowing. A parade funeral replete with marching band playing "Will We Not See You Again, " motorcycle cops, crowds, small local circus on the right, a big strawberry cake appears in front of us on a chair, a Chinese T.V. newsman taking pictures. We bow through and under. Only a handful notice.
- Bowing two feet from swimming fish in market window tank. Waiting to die. Both of us. Blub, blubbing with their mouths, us quietly reciting. Both watching each other in our "tanks".
- Crazy lady who has been following us cackling, sneaks up behind and kicks me right in the acupuncture point in the groin. Keep bowing, wondering where we met before and where we will meet again. Feeling sick.
- Drive around corner and pass through an intersection to park. A few seconds later crash, bang! a terrible accident. We missed it by seconds. A Chinese street gang swagger by. What a fine way to cultivate! Much peace in the Dharma from two "foreigners."
disciple Heng Ch'au
bows in respect