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HENG SURE: May 17, 1977. The time is going fast. Every bow is priceless, a gift, borrowed time from the Gold Mountain Assembly. I cannot waste an instant in false thinking. Every bow is a chance to scrape off part of the mountain of past bad karma, to give away some of the bad deeds, to pulverize the negative vibes that keep the old destructive habits of this planet going around again to destruction. When my share is reduced I have done a good job of working to aid the world--to actually do the hard scrubwork of making this a better, light, and cleaner place.
Good work that needs doing. No one else wants to do it. Who has the time, the interest? Who sees that it needs to be done? Few people. So it proceeds from this. Who believes that this is possible, that this method actually works to reduce bad vibes, that it really matters?
I think today is going to be heavy. I’m ready for it. I have been training for this encounter for years. As I bow I vow to absorb the bad karma of the area we pass through. It is a small amount that I take in and purge, but it counts and besides I am not pumping any more hatred out. The ones I want to influence the most are right here--the bankers, contract signers--are all on this street. You can’t affect them personally. You have got to change their spirits, their ghosts, the pool of evil so that when the big evil needs to be stopped it will weigh one drop less and our heroes will have one drop more strength.
Every joint is sore. Big toes, palms of the hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders, biceps, neck, back, waist, thighs, knees, ankles all speak up when I bow--all complain of the hard work. Only my mind and my heart are not sore, happy to be free and working in L.A. for what I believe in. This is freedom. Step, step, step, bow. Creak the joints and recite a repentance, breathe, stand and straighten up. Step, step, step, and down again. It is like the Gold Mountain Buddhahall, like requesting the Dharma before the Venerable Abbot. They are not two. The scenes change like channels on the T.V. All illusions. We’re pretending to be serious about changing other holy man. You’re a big phone,” I think. “You’re not a holy man. You’re just lucky no one has called your bluff in public.” “All I can think of in reply is, “That’s absolutely right. There is nothing genuine in any of this.”
It’s like working through a dream, hard work. It’s like waiting for the dawn and the awakening.
“Do you believe in this?”
Yes. I do, because it is good and pure and not harmful.
“Why are you doing this?”
I don’t really know except that it needs to be done right now and no one else is doing it. I’m doing it for the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas. I couldn’t imagine working just for myself. When I bow I repent all past bad karma done out of greed, hatred, and stupidity with my body, mouth and mind. I now repent of it all.
Passing through an area it is also possible to act as a screen, a filter for all the bad karma of a place. Take it on and purge it through your repentance on behalf of other people. You are their confessor, their karmic grinder, the voluntary sewer.
Everyone wants freedom to do what he wants, usually tied up with sex, fame, food, wealth, or sleep. When you get these “freedoms” they don’t satisfy you. Even the richest men and women can’t buy freedom. They still fear discomfort, suffering, pain, sickness, old age, death, unhappiness. As we left-home monks pass through the many class of society in L.A. we witness the various cages and limits to freedom that people chase, capture, cling to, and settle for.
Even the most free, most powerful, wealthy 9-th floor penthouse businessman is not free to control his life in the face of natural or man-made disasters. Earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, droughts, plane crashes, train wrecks, wars, and now missile or death ray attacks can snap the guise of freedom.
So as Bhikshus who have gotten free of every material desire, our job is to eliminate the other un-freedoms and work only in the area where it can help, in the realm of the spirits. We pray, prostrate our bodies, and leave all creature comforts, So that everyone can benefit. Already free, we accept the bonds of misunderstanding, the chains of three steps one bow, three steps one bow, and the burden of ridicule. This is a small price to pay for the result of no disasters, no catastrophes, and no holocausts.
If we are successful, nothing will happen. You will notice our success by the lack of disaster. Our work has a negative counting reward meter. The Bodhisattva is the freest being. Heng Ch’au and I could have taken any of the conventional roads to social success but we did not choose them. They do not lead to freedom.
This and all such essays are merely footnotes to the story of Shakyamuni Gautama Siddhartha, the price who abandoned all wealth and glory to seek ultimate freedom which he attained after many years of bitter practice. Our stories are but pale echoes of his.