Letting Go

In a previous post, I mentioned having a nightmare where I woke up to the sound of my own voice in the middle of the night.  What I didn't say is that I actually woke up sobbing.  Perhaps Malarone was the instigator, but the subject of the dream was definitely one that I held close to my heart and felt I never resolved properly.  It has taken three attempts, eleven days in one of the poorest countries in the world, two nightmares, twenty-one days of anti-malarial drugs, and six months for me to just let go.  Buddha is right.  Come what may; I am so much happier.    

A Revolutionary Spirit

A brown hand appeared in front of me and placed a bowl of peanuts on the floor where I was sitting.  I had been listening to an elder monk read Pali texts out loud at Ananda Temple when this curious bowl of peanuts appeared.  When I looked up, a young monk pointed to another monk across the room.  The second monk smiled broadly showing teeth stained by betel-nut.  His eyes were warm and sparkled with a bit of humor and mischief something I found uncommon in stark Buddhist settings.  I looked at the peanuts quizzically.  Where I come from, you give monks food as alms not the other way around.   He noticed my confusion and proceeded to illustrate to me how to crack open a peanut.  I laughed.  He thought I did not know how to eat peanuts from the shell!  I proceeded to eat the peanuts and called out a polite "Thank you" in Burmese.  He offered me some tea.  I accepted and joined his circle of monks for a little cup of tea and a lot of conversation.  

U Ya Thanada

His ordained name is U Ya Thanada.  He joined the monastery when he was a teenager to escape the poverty and suffering that the people of Burma experience.  At 36 years, he has been a monk for over 20 years, splitting his time between meditation and reading Pali texts.  He explained that once he became ordained as a monk, his basic life needs of food, shelter, and clothing were provided for, and thus, he could focus on his spirit.  The role of the Buddhist monk as he explained it was to provide education on the spirit.  He provided insight into people's lives on suffering and how to ease that suffering.

I made eye contact with him across the small circle of monks on the floor.  I asked him for permission to speak frankly and prefaced that by saying he did not have to answer my questions if he felt uncomfortable.  I felt every monk around us hold their breath.  He nodded his permission.  I leaned my head closer, lowered my voice, and attempted to speak, but found myself opening my mouth and then closing it.  As I tried again, he stopped me, "Wait," and he scooted closer.  Everyone in the circle exhaled and laughed.  The tension eased.  I asked him what his feelings were on the government and if he thought there was any hope for freedom.

He answered emphatically, "I do not support the government and one day it will be overthrown.  I have no fear in saying this."

"Will this happen in ten years?"

"Yes."

"Five?"

"No."

"Seven?"

"Likely."

"How do you think this change will come about?"

He tried to explain to me in a Burmese metaphor of a wheel rolling down the road.  It would be slow at first and as it kept spinning, it would gain momentum.  He believed that the Burmese people would unite and build this momentum.  The Buddhist community was there to provide spiritual guidance but from what I can tell they would not be the leaders of the revolution.

Ananda Temple