The driver drove past and along the long entryway to a
pagoda, then stopped right next to where a woman and her daughter were sitting.
The driver motioned to the steps at the entrance to the corridor, next to the
woman and her daughter. “You leave your shoes there.” As I walked past the
woman and her daughter, I was unsure what to do. I had to step past them in
order to put my shoes on the step. I wasn’t sure if they were in charge of
shoes or if I needed to give them money or… And then I reminded myself: just
meet others with compassion and kindness- treat them as equals and give them
your respect. So I did, I nodded to them as I stepped passed them and smiled
after I took off my shoes.
As I got out of the car, I was grateful that I had visited a
pagoda the prior day with my friend because it meant that I knew the routine of
visiting pagodas. Basically, you take off your shoes and then walk, along a long
corridor, that leads to the actual pagoda. This corridor is lined with people,
calling out to you, offering you their handicrafts to buy.
As I walked up the steps, I began to plan how to negotiate
the walkway full of people selling things. Should I pretend to be interested in what they’re selling, even though I
don’t want to buy anything? Do I not make eye contact so I don’t get sucked in?
Do I just keep walking as quick as I can and hope they get the clue? I had
walked about 10 steps when a man called to me, “Tee shot? Tee shot?” as he held
up a white t-shirt with an image of the landscape of Bagan on its front.
“No,” I said as I walked past him.
“No thank you,” he
admonished, and turned to walk the other direction.
And he was right, I should
have said ‘no thank you,’ should have acknowledged that he was offering
something, thanked him for the offer
and then said no to it. I noticed then that I had been walking past all these people, not present to
them or my surroundings at all, completely caught up in navigating my way through this scene, instead of actually
experiencing it. So, I slowed down and began looking around: at the
architecture, at the entire set up. I didn’t look at people’s handicrafts, I
looked more at the entire setting.
I continued to walk
down the corridor and was mostly called to more subtly from people who remained
on the edges, close to their handicrafts. I nodded to people who made eye
contact with me and said ‘no thank you to a few,’ then I walked up the steps,
finally reaching the actual pagoda. In front of me was a large seated Buddha,
and two people sitting in front of it- either in prayer or meditation.
Again I wasn’t sure what to do, do I wait until they’re
finished meditating or do I just walk around them? I decided to wait a little
bit, but then it seemed like they were in for the long haul and other people
were walking around them so I decided to walk past them, with kindness and
compassion. I walked quietly past them, careful not to disturb their
meditation, and approached the Buddha statue. After looking at it for a bit I
thought to myself, “Okay, where am I supposed to walk to next?” I looked around
to see where others were going but there were people in all directions. I
turned to my right, “Is that a statue
to look at?” and started walking toward it.
Once I stepped inside, I decided that it wasn’t part of the pagoda, that it was
some kitchy thing designed to get people to donate. And then I said to myself,
“Dude, don’t do that. Don’t judge some section of whatever this place is- just
see it, as it is.” And so I did, and then I turned to the left and walked to
the next thing. “Wow, that’s tall,” I thought and then walked inside a covered
area.
There, lined up inside a case, were about 18- 20 Buddha
statues. I started at one end and walked to the other. As I looked at each
Buddha, I started to notice that every single one of them was different from the one next to it- some
obviously so, others more slightly. I was really surprised by this. I’ve always
seen the different statues at the zen center but I always thought those were
different because they were depictting actual
different Buddhas like Avalokiteshvara or Manjushri. But these statues were all
the same Buddha image, just with slightly different eyes, or noses, or hands or
expressions or even postures.
“Oh I get it,” I thought. “The Buddha is you so they made a bunch of Buddhas that look like a bunch of
different people, ‘cause we’re all
Buddha.” And I thought that was really cool and I decided that if I ever made a
Buddha statue, I’d put it in Burmese pose, so that all of us Burmese- sitters
would feel represented. Then I stepped out of that exhibit and continued on my
way, all around, in, and through the pagoda.
I walked really slowly, and was amazed at the detail I saw
by just seeing, instead of looking
for something. I saw designs that I wouldn’t have noticed, recognized patterns,
saw the things that statues were mounted on instead of just the statue, etc. At
one point, I walked into what I thought
was a building for a statue but once inside, realized there was no statue at
all. Before leaving I looked up. Above me were intricate designs and beautiful
paintings that I would have completely missed had I only been looking for a
statue.
As I stepped out and to my right, I saw a golden Buddha statue, framed
above by the branches of the tree it sat under and framed below by brilliant
purple flowers. I was immediately drawn to this Buddha sitting in its natural
state- outside surrounded by life. I felt peaceful as I walked around it and
found three more Buddha statues- presumably one for each direction. I felt the
need to capture this Buddha, to hold on to this feeling of peace, so I
attempted to capture its image on my camera. I tried every which way but no
angle seemed to adequately represent the vibrancy and peace that I felt.
Nonetheless, I took a bunch of pictures with the intent of framing one of them
and making it the beginning of my first altar at home.
No comments:
Post a Comment