Fearless Mountain Newsletter
Spring 2008 Articles
Anagārika Life Journey to the Source An Offering of Gratitude Newsletter Editor Stepping Down Absolute Sincerety Letting Go In India Inspiration, Gratitude, and Joy in India From the Monastery Calendar View Archive
Anagārika Nic during a trip into San Francisco with the monks
View Printer Friendly FormatPage 1 of 3
Every fortnight after the bhikkhus, sāmaneras and anagārikas chant their precepts, a talk is given by a senior bhikkhu. The talks are often quite memorable and motivating, especially when you are wearing white and the opening theme is harmony or rather the lack thereof in the anagārikas’ chanting. Having to project my voice in a melodic manner is an activity that I conveniently avoided in lay life, since the inability of anyone in my family to carry a tune has been dubbed a “genetic disability.” After explaining the importance of chanting in monastic life my mother commented, “Oh. That could be a deal breaker.” Indeed, a notable feature of anagārika life has been taking up activities concerning which I have little experience or inclination. Upon arrival I had never mended a garment of my own and my cooking repertoire had expanded only slightly since graduating from college in 2005 on a diet of peanut butter and jelly, carrot sticks and trips to the dining hall. Yet shortly after going into white I became kitchen manager and I realized that I would no longer have the luxury of simply buying new clothes to replace wear, tear and stubborn stains in the whites I inherited.
By putting on those whites I became a representative of the Abhayagiri monastic community. With the large sheet that I draped over my shoulder at my going forth came the eight precepts, the 75 training rules, numerous monastery protocols and general expectations of proper deportment for a monastic. Immersed in the details, routines and hierarchy of monastic training I have felt at times like a cadet at the Naval Academy, striving to keep my dwelling tidy, my whites white and my work swift, efficient and mindful. Yet, on other occasions Abhayagiri is just one really big family. Sometimes I am wrapped up in the good feelings of caffeine, camaraderie and chocolate at the weekly midnight tea. Other times I am lost in the frustrations of coping with different opinions on how to cook oatmeal, dry clothes or drive the truck up the hill.
Although, being an Page 2 of 3
anagārika is a unique experience that defies easy descriptions, “challenging but worthwhile,” is a synopsis that I have used. Some nights after evening pþja, it is cold and dark and late and morning pūja is much too early. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other, trudging up the hill, trying not to look up at how much farther I have to go or to calculate how many hours of sleep I will be able to squeeze in. However, a tiny inner voice of wisdom knows that it is not despite such challenges, but because of them, that monastic life is so valuable. For instance, learning to sew is a continuous lesson in patience and letting go while chanting has been a fertile ground for cultivating perseverance and the willingness to learn from my mistakes. In addition, being in charge of Abhayagiri’s sustenance has illuminated many aspects of my personality. I became acutely aware of my food preferences when someone commented, “Do we really need more peanut butter?” Also, I noticed how much I feared upsetting others when I found myself worrying, “Did I put out enough cheese?” or “Is it really okay to serve quinoa for breakfast instead of oatmeal?”
Amidst the difficulties there has been great gratitude—for the opportunity to practice, for the support of the laity and for the inspiration, guidance, leadership and even admonition of the abbots and community members. One day, in awe of one of my spiritual companions, I thought to myself, “If I stick it out, I get to live in a place with people like this.” Seeing my fellow community members, despite all their responsibilities, walk around as light as air reminds me that even if the food shed is a disaster, my whites are stained and my chanting is lacking, I need not carry my endless “to-do’s” around on my shoulders. The spiritual environment prods me to question the sub-conscious story in my head that says, “If I only could wash my whites properly with hot water, stain remover and regular detergents then I would be Page 3 of 3
happy.” Living at Abhayagiri nourishes that tiny voice reminding me that I cannot run from suffering because its causes are within my own mind. Furthermore, although it takes time, effort and perseverance, I have seen that change is possible. In the most recent fortnightly talk, Ajahn Pasanno began by describing how with practice over time, things slowly begin to click. What example did he give? The anagārikas’ chanting has improved by “quantum bounds.”
