Lessons from the Forest Opening Ceremony

I went to Uttaradit to help the head monk there, Phra Sutep, prepare for his meditation center's opening ceremony. My companions and I met two women meditators from Bangkok who have been Phra Sutep's students for 20+ years(!) and we practiced together for 5 days. I was the youngest member of our party and have the least meditation experience, but I am ordained, so I was put in charge of leading evening chanting, ringing the wake up bell, and keeping time during meditation periods. I was a little unsure of myself, but the energy from 5 women practicing together was such a blessing and they were all so patient and kind. It felt good to return to a position of leadership after feeling so down on my self for so long...

I learned a lot practicing there. Phra Sutep is Thai, but he's an American citizen--his home temple is Wat Thai Hawaii in Honolulu--so his English is very good. He taught me that self-forgiveness MUST come first in this growth process, or the practice cannot proceed. He taught me perseverance--the mind must be cleaned again and again, again and again, again and again! He responded kindly to my ridiculous emotional breakdown over the second day's breakfast--rice soup with pork. Was that ever a cultural lesson (one I am still processing a month later...)!

Phra Sutep's home town is a small village about 30 km from the city of Uttaradit. It's very hot and dry and consequently the farming community is poor (as with much of rural Thailand in the central plains). Some of the skinniest cows I've seen in my life browsed fields of picked over dried rice straw, vainly seeking vegetation with available calories. Intermittant fields of corn and yams came up here and there amidst the dry rice paddies, but given that many times per day, when we turned on our own water taps, nothing happened but a sad sucking of air and a faint hint of gurgling, I don't know where the water comes from for such thirsty crops (or perhaps the thirsty crops accounts for the empty taps?). The kindness of the people ran deep.

They prepared ample delicious food for us at each meal, probably driving to market in Uttaradit for most of the fruits and vegetables, but this particular breakfast, they did not realize I'm vegetarian and prepared a delicious looking pork/rice porriage (common breakfast in central Thailand--we have a veggie version once a week or so here at the temple, and it's the daily AM staple at the meditation center in Suan Mokk (see December in my blog)). I took a bowl before asking if it was "Jay" (vegan) and decided not to make a big conceited show of my personal dietary choices by refusing it once I found out it was not. Well, that was my plan, at least.

As I sat down and stared into my soup, my heart became gripped by mortal fear. The last time I ate pork was by accident 7 years ago and I was the sickest I have been in my life for 5 days afterward (many contributing factors there, but the bacon bits I didn't see till the end of the side dish of sauteed restaurant veggies I'd ordered was one probable culprit). I do not have the volition to kill a pig and therefore do not believe it's right to eat one (in addition to the numerous other reasons I'm mostly veggie). As I contemplated the steaming bowl in front of me, I began silently to weep...

After choking back tears and chanting the food reflection and a blessing for health and prosperity for those who donated the food (a twice daily pre-meal ritual for all ordained Buddhists), I picked up my spoon and tried to take a bite without pork bits. It was not possible...not wanting to be rude and refuse the alms I had taken, I managed to swallow two bites amidst uncontrollable sobs. No one really knew what to do with me, but they were all very kind, took my bowl away when I gave up trying to eat, and offered me some fruit (traditional desert). I felt terrible more for the cultural fool I made of myself than for the few bits of pig I ate...I took the day of practicing to process what happened. What emotions came up and where they came from. Why I had such mortal fear of a single meal. I would not have minded fasting. The fear was more about my ignorance around the "right" thing to do. In the past when presented with meat, I have refused arrogantly and felt wrong after. This time I tried taking it, but couldn't eat and felt wrong after. Where is the middle ground, I reflected...

Two days later, during an elaborate ceremony to install 3 holy statues representing warrior brothers from the province's history, a feast was laid out for the brother's spirits, and a man and two women stepped up to the shrine room, put on the brother's war-costumes, entered meditative trances, and began channeling the spirits of these three men (spirits are apparently not gender descriminators). It seemed like a big excuse to drink whiskey and chain smoke at 9 in the morning, but perhaps they really were spirits...I guess if you're a warrior from several centuries ago with no body, the opportunity to smoke again would be capitalized on to the greatest possible extent? well, the last thing brought up for the spirit's feast was the cleaned raw carcass of a decapitated pig, severed head placed neatly near-by. This was set on a bloody sheet of plastic on a table in front of me, about 4 feet away. Quite an opportunity for reflection. Several people offered excuses for me to move, but I decided to stay put and just watch myself and acknowledge. Intense.