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September 3, 1979
in the mountains on the road to Bonneville, California
Dear Shih Fu,
At the end of the bowing day, we did transference and drove into Pt. Arena to dump garbage. As we pulled into a closed gas station, suddenly we are surrounded by about ten men. They are tough-looking and full of whiskey. They start knocking on the car windows.
"Hey, what's happening, man? You guys is the ones that's bowing on the highway, right? What gives?" asks one in a mocking voice.
"Yeah, hey, there they are!" shouts some others spotting us. "Let's go check them out, c'mon!" And some more men run over from a motel across the street.
"Oh, you don't talk, eh? How about him?" he says pointing to Heng Sure sitting in the back seat. "He talk? Neither of you talk!? How we supposed to talk back to you, huh? Maybe write all over your car with paint, huh?" Everybody laughs, but they are not joking.
Another man steps up. He's got a big scar across his neck and is clutching an open whiskey bottle in one hand. He grabs the handout away from the other man and starts to read it saying, "What's their gig?" He looks at me and says roughly, "Your vocal chords shot or something?"
"No, it's their penance," shouts someone. More laughs.
"Hey, don't hassle 'em. They're doing their thing," he says and finishes reading the handout about the pilgrimage. He shoves the whiskey bottle in my face, "Here. Have a drink with me, or can't you? Your religion forbid it?" I nod. "How about him?" he asks, pointing the bottle to Heng Sure, "Can he drink?"
"Lookie, he's prayin'!" someone yells and they all break out in a mocking laugh at the meditating monk.
"Ya see, his wife just had a baby. That's why he's so rude and obnoxious," says a tall man with scraggly beard and one eye missing.
"Yeah, usually I just go around and beat the hell out of people, but today I'm celebrating, so you're lucky, maybe," comes back the man standing by the open car window.
"Man! They've been at this since L.A.! Over two years!" exclaims the man reading the paper.
"That's a lot of miles. Many people hassle you?" asks one. I nod "No."
"Really! How about your car? Holding up okay? I know where you can get it wrecked real fast and cheap," he says. More laughs. Tension eases a little now.
Another truck pulls up behind us and more men jump out. The whole scene is touch and go. It could turn into violence or dissolve into "no affair" in a second. Heng Sure and I can feel the spotlight on us. Each move has to be true and proper or the scene will explode. They have crowbars, sledge hammers, lumberjack axes, and chains in their trucks. They could wipe us and the car out in a few minutes if provoked. We don't dare try to roll up the car window and pull out of the lot. There's too many of them, and they have us boxed in. Besides, it would only postpone a showdown for a day or two, when we bow through the town. They've been watching and waiting for us for weeks, they told us. We move at one mile a day. There's no place to run or hide. We've had to learn to get along with people. Pilgrims are on their own. Kindness, compassion, joy, and giving are all we need to survive. These four unlimited minds cover all situations and leave everyone feeling good. We try to treat everyone the same. No matter what happens, we have vowed not to show anger.
The Bodhisattvas have entered into the
level and equal nature of all dharmas.
They have no thought of any living being
as not being family or friends.
If there is a living being who has a
thought of hostility towards theBodhisattva,
The Bodhisattva views him with kind
eyes, as well.
To the very end, they have not the
slightest anger.--Avatamsaka
Ten Transferences Chapter
(First Chapter)
There is something special about bowing outdoors, slowly going from town to town. It's hard to describe, but after a while, everything seems the same and everyone feels like family and friends -- "level and equal". All the men look like brothers or our fathers. All the women look like sisters and our mothers. From L.A., through Asia, and back up the coast to where we are today, Pt. Arena, California, all the different cities and villages blend into one big neighborhood. We are hardly aware of leaving one place and entering another. The bowing naturally levels all the skin-deep differences somehow, and "being one with everyone" kind of sneaks into your heart before you know it.
As tough and threatening as these drunken men were, Heng Sure and I didn't feel uptight or angry. There was no hostility or rejection in the air. We all felt this and slowly things cooled off by themselves. The men relaxed.
"Well, ya' gotta get haircuts sometime. Or do you do that yourselves, too?" jokes one man. Some are huddled together reading the handout. Others are peeking in the car windows at the altar and pictures of Kuan Yin and the Master, while passing around an open whiskey bottle and taking swigs.
We slowly back the car off, smiling and waving goodbye.
"Hey!" shouts a short man with a mustache, "you know karate?" "Yeah," chime in a couple more as they head for the car with renewed interest in the prospects of a fight. "You know...kung fu, martial arts?" They pose in T.V. kung fu stances. With beer bottles in their hand and dressed in dirty bib overalls and construction hats, it's kind of comic looking.
I nod "no" and fold my hands and bow, indicating "That's our kung fu." They like that, and everything softens again. Smiles come to some tough faces as if to say, "Yeah. The whole world could use a little more of that kind of kung fu. Who wants to fight, anyhow?"
As we drive away, the man whose wife just had a baby shouts, "Well, all I got to say is you better be careful, you two cosmics. Don't float away and disappear into the cosmos. Don't let the cosmos eat you up." More laughs and everyone waves goodbye. It was a lesson in kindness and according.
When one's mind is level and equal towards all beings, one can accomplish perfect, full, great compassion. When one uses the heart of great compassion to accord with all beings, then one can accomplish making offerings to the Thus Come One. This is how Bodhisattvas accord with all living beings.
--Avatamsaka Sutra
Universal Worthy's Conduct and Vows Chapter
The next day, we bowed past a large, wooded front yard and house on the edge of town. The local kids were "playing guns." "Bang, bang..got ya. Did not!...Did So!... Blast 'im Tony, kapow, kapow!" They see us bowing, and everything stops in silence. Then a rock comes flying at us from behind some bushes. It hits on the pavement next to us. We keep bowing. The kids keep watching.
In a few minutes, the braver ones inch closer. "What ya' doin, man?" they ask. I write a note and give it to them:
We are praying to help the world get better and to be good to our parents. We don't talk.
"I'll give it to my brother, John, he can read," says a little boy. John reads it for everyone. They smile. We keep bowing into town. The children stop playing guns and quietly sit in the shade and watch us bow. A car squeals by and someone yells at us. The kids stand up and defend us, "Hey, you better leave them alone; they're good," says the older boy. Two children run up with fresh-picked red flowers and offer them. The older ones ride ahead on their bikes scouting out the route ahead. "Better watch out for that dog up there, he might bite. The other one's okay," says Tony, Pointing to a tail-wagging mongrel.
We are all changing together--the drunks, the monks, the children. Changing from guns to flowers, from anger to compassion, from confusion to understanding. We are all bowing together with one heart to the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas.
Peace in the Way, Disciple Kuo T'ing
(Heng Ch'au) bows in respect