Chop Food; Carry Water
My 3rd day waking up at Wat Pa Tam Wua, the Buddhist monastery where I’m on retreat from the troubles in the world. Not unaware, but focused on meditation, spending time in high realms along with 100+ monks and seekers from around the world. And yet there’s a palpable oneness that fills the time and space.
I feel privileged to have been upgraded to my private kuti (cottage), as the first night in a tent was cold and bright with night lights, and a snoring neighbor next tent over.
Now a kuti with private bathroom and front porch with a writing table and chair overlooking the rose and vegetable garden, which I’ve taken under my wings, weeding and watering, paying kind attention.
And the mountains and cove, obscured by mist in the morning showing off their spectacular selves by noon.
I wasn’t told til later that the kuti folks were due for kitchen duty at 5am. And so there I was, chopping vegetables, carrying water, channeling my 21-year-old self at our Indian Summer vegetarian restaurant in Ann Arbor, Michigan, cutting 5-gallon buckets of carrots and onions, mortar and pestling the curry powder of the day, listening to the Grateful Dead.
Except here, silence. Even the clanking of metal dinner plates is minimal; they’re carefully placed with rarely a sound. I remember my High Cove neighbor, Kevin, remarking on the quiet during his visit to Japan. And the general respect and politeness towards each other. Everything with mindfulness, to the best of our abilities.
The day begins with alms-giving. We each take a bowl containing 3 tablespoons of rice, and sit cross-legged around the perimeter of the open-air meditation (dhamma) hall. A bell rings out several times, and three resident monks go from one to the next, and with a slight bow, we place a tablespoon in each of their alms bowls.
Then, our first meal of the day (the 2nd and last meal of the day is at 11am). Always white rice, a vegetable stew akin to a ratatouille, a tray of chutneys, soy sauce, red pepper flakes and, this morning, small bananas. Not much variation on this theme, though there’s a small shop where one can get such sinful sweets as candy bars and ice cream. Or ramen later in the day for those that need dinner sustenance.
Silence is required during mealtimes. At other times, quiet conversation, but overall, silence is golden.
Three times a day there is chanting and meditation. The chants are in Pali, the language in the Buddha’s time, generally consisting of two or three-letter words which are easy to pronounce. Then in Thai, which is a challenge. At first, I tried, but now I mostly hum along. Then, lastly, in English. There are certain bowing rituals, hands together as if in prayer. I’m still learning the ropes.
Morning and afternoon we begin with walking meditation, which is pure delight. Typically barefoot, which I know would please my High Cove friend, Olga, to no end. We are all given a white shirt and pants or skirt upon arrival, and though it’s appropriate to wear a sweater in the chill of the morning (mid-50s), it’s a lovely sight to see, a slow-moving line of ~ 200 white-clad men and women about 10’ apart winding their way through the garden. This lasts about 30 minutes, followed by 30 minutes of sitting meditation, then 30 minutes of lying down meditation. (The Buddha prescribed four types, including standing meditation.) These sessions begin and end with chants honoring the Buddha, dhamma (truth), sangha (the gathering), and loving kindness.
We have an hour of personal time between activities, which is why I’m taking this time to write. But best I not tarry or be late. I learned (or have I?) that one best not be late.
The afternoon walking meditation is both more rigorous and wondrous, winding our way up and up a mountain path where there are multiple meditation caves. It is a sight and experience of pure wow. I’ve hesitated to bring my iPhone, but photography and videography are allowed, and I plan to capture this experience one of these days, best I can.
Late afternoon is a work hour, and you see many of the folks in white with brooms sweeping the lawns and walkways. Suffice to say, this is a well-kept property. For my part, I’ve been oiling squeaky bathroom doors and weeding and watering the roses and the vegetable garden. (For those of you that don’t know, I travel with machine oil precisely to oil squeaky doors. Sort of like a Johnny Appleseed, but with machine oil. So far, 14 doors and counting. And, for those of you that don’t know, I’m a gardener at heart - ♥️.
Ok. I can feel in my bones that the bell is about to ring for another ritual that honors the food we are about to eat.
I came for 5 days, plan to stay for 7, Buddha (and staff) willing. So far, I've always stayed additional days wherever I’ve traveled.
May peace and kindness be forever with you.
