Pure Water and Pureland

In the past few years Western countries have had a thirst for pure bottled H20 - Water. You only have to take a casual stroll through any supermarket in Australia and behold whole aisles dedicated to the life giving liquid. Evian, Perrier, Fratelle, Home Brand (not sure if this one comes straight out of the tap at home!?) and on it goes. If you are like me having lived in Brisbane Australia you would certainly be drawn to the more “pure” waters as our city water supply tastes like something coming out of a chemical laboratory with its chlorine and fluoride additives.

I wonder if all of this has something to do with our unconscious search for something more pure in our lives, untouched by additives, ‘faddatives’, non-fat reduced and non-polluted. If you haven’t had an information holiday yet I suggest you try one for a few days. Get away from the TV, radio, computer, emails etc and just see how fresh you mind feels. It’s amazing. People seem to be searching for something more meaningful and deeper.

Another pure product, Pure Land Buddhism is still little known in the West due mainly to the paucity of literature for beginners in English. Pureland had its origins in China when it was founded by the Patriarch Hui Yuan in 402. It recognizes that in these times Nirvana is very difficult to attain. However, through faith in Amitabha Buddha and the concentrated recitation of his name we are able to attain rebirth in the Pure Land.

It is not just a “place” in the future after our completion of this life-time, it is also a state of mind. All external phenomena are a result of mind. The practise of Pure Land purifies the mind of all impurities and enables us to live more contented and fulfilling lives. The interesting thing about Pure Land practice is that results are very noticeable within a short time of concentrated and sincere practice. Pure Land Buddhism does not require any complicated rituals and is easy to practice any time anywhere. It is very portable (or should I say potable) and contains no additives or ‘fadditives’.

If you are interested in Pure Land Buddhism I can recommended a couple of good resources:

In One Life Time, Pure Land Buddhism by Venerable Wuling. It is freely downloadable in the Ven Wuling’s Blog at http://www.abuddhistperspective.org

Pure-Land Zen, Zen Pure-Land by the 13th Patriarch of Pure Land Yin Kuang. A free download is available at www.buddhanet.net/pdf_file/yin_kuang.pdf

For a general, easy to read, user-friendly introduction to Buddhism and Pure Land I recommend The Teaching of the Buddha (Available in English and Chinese). It is available free on our website www.taishendo.com

Frightening, isn't it?

It was an ink black night. I was lined up at the end of the run way awaiting take-off clearance from the control tower. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as a mixture of excitement and trepidation came over me. This was my first night flying training and I knew that as we were taking off into fairly uninhabited area there would be very little visual reference and I would need to concentrate upon the instrument panel. My instructor, a former Navy pilot and humorless man fixed his gaze straight ahead. “Romeo Victor Charlie, clear for take off”, came the control tower. I smoothly pushed the throttle into full position as the aircraft lunged forward gathering speed. At rotation speed the aircraft released its hold on the runway. Suddenly there were no runway lights. Excitement rapidly turned to fear and in an instant I caught myself saying to the flight instructor “I feel a bit scared.” As immediately as his icy glance came my way I wished I had not made any comment. He came back at me with a forceful and steely question that seemed to pierce my soul. “Then what are you doing about it?!!” I immediately gained composure and did what a pilot needed to do to navigate in darkness.

I have often looked back at that moment in my life with great thanks to my instructor. There have been many times I have had to navigate in darkness. . . and here I am referring to my daily life, not flying an aircraft.

Not so long ago my teacher had visited our Retreat Centre in our village of Shi Ta Wan, China. The local driver from Zaoxi had driven up the mountain to take us back down to the town below. We jumped into his little van. My teacher wanted to take the back seat, so I sat next to the driver. The driver took off as if there was no tomorrow. The very narrow road winds its way through hair-pin bends and past small villages. We were pushed from side to side as the diver picked up speed. I envisaged us going over the edge and being killed any instant. Suddenly as we sped through a village a dog leapt out in front of the van causing the driver to skid sideways. He made some remark in local Chinese about the dog and continued at break neck speed. Gripped with a sudden feeling of fear I look around to my teacher, a dignified Buddhist monk advanced in age. I pretended that I was simply looking at the scenery not wanting to show any sign of my inner fear lest I should be embarrassed by not attaining a level of meditative calmness. My teacher looked straight ahead expressionless. I marveled at his ability to remain calm, cool and collected and secretly hoped he would say something to the driver to slow down in local dialect.

We finally arrived in Zaoxi. My face and knuckles must have been snow white drained of all blood supply with my legs behaving like noodles as I climbed out of the van. I turned to my teacher as he brushed his robes and remarked without any tell-tale expression: “Tian na! Xia ren!!” which translates as: “Heavens above! That was frightening, wasn’t it!!” I roared with laughter. We laughed together as we thanked the driver. (Thanking him we arrived safely without incident!) Suddenly a memory flash came back to my night flying lesson. In an instant in time the two moments connected. My teacher was human. He felt the fear too! Only, he did not allow it to control him.

Mindfulness teaches us just that. There are many things in life that shatter us or can turn us to jelly. There are the memories that can still haunt us and cause us to panic at every turn in the journey of life. Fear puts tremendous stress upon the adrenal system and heart. Prolonged fear can have quite injurious effects to our physical and mental well-being. Most often we allow the fear to overtake us then the struggle sets in creating a vicious cycle. We can often find ourselves struggling against the fear: “Oh! I shouldn’t be afraid” or "I should get my act together". Somehow it doesn’t make the fear go away. We try other methods – a stiff drink, some pills, diversion – but the fear very often returns.

Mindfulness does not deny the fear but openly accepts it. Like my flying instructor it asks us: “what are we doing about it?” Positive and growthful action is necessary. Mindfulness is not violent to the fear. It says: “I know you are there. I can accept you and give you space to be.” We must learn that the thought of fear and ensuing emotions cannot harm us. What can harm is inappropriate action.

Accepting what “is” defuses the “struggle”. Mindfulness teaches us to breathe into the fear gently and slowly being aware of the body and its tensions. Often as a consequence the fear gradually subsides on its own accord.

Finally Mindfulness teaches us to be guided by what truly matters to us in life. As Buddhists we know that all things are impermanent. All things change. All ceases. Yes, even our fear. Allow yourself to be guided by your deepest inner values rather than fleeting impermanent feelings. As we concentrate on meditation and whole heartedly on the name of Amitabha Buddha all else begins to fade into insignificance. Naturally, we need to work at it. Just imagine your fear fading into insignificance. Frightening, isn’t it?

The Happiest Lady in the World

It was our second day of Mindfulness Training. The autumn had rapidly given way to winter in the bamboo forest mountains. We donned gloves, scarfs and hats as we mounted the three wheeled tractor that was to take us up to the summit of the mountain. As we wound around the mountain road the temperature seemed to drop with each meter we climbed. Suddenly the motorcycle tractor came to an abrupt holt. The bitumen had come to an end and the dirt track was mud and slush from heavy icy rains the day before. We all got out to push the tractor through the mud. My attention was diverted to a small stone house with its occupants now curiously looking at us guys and girls seemingly in position for a rugby “scrum”. Lijuan, our team guide, had gone up the path to chat to them. “They are inviting us in for hot tea!”, called Lijuan. This seemed a far more sensible thing to do so we made our way up to the humble hut. It was a small hut typical of this mountain area of China. I must have past it many times before but had not really noticed it as it was set off the road a little.

Inside the hut was an inviting charcoal fire in the centre. We gathered around warm our numbed hands. I looked up to notice an old lady inviting me to sit down. He face was a smile for ear to ear. As she prepared and poured hot local tea she beamed an infectious laugh. We couldn’t help ourselves laughing with her. Her invitations were interpreted by Lijuan to Jin Jin as she spoke a local dialect which Lijuan translated into Mandarin then Jin translating into English for us. The old happy lady offered us nuts and dried sweet potato. Soon we were joined by her husband and other local villagers. Communication seems to happen rapidly in these remote parts as our presence was announced!



I could not help wanting to ask her the reason for her high pitched laughter and beaming smiles. After the dual interpreting came a response: “Oh! I am happy here. We came here five years ago from the town. In the town we had no work so we came here to grow vegetables.” “But what makes you happy?” I inquired further? “I have never thought about it” came the lady with a giggle. “Are there times when you struggle or are sad?” I asked digging for the deeper meaning. “Oh! (a very big raucous laugh!) I have never thought about it. I never think very much. I just watch my vegetables grow, work the soil, and drink some tea. Maybe you think too much! Now have some more tea.” We all laughed. I felt a tad embarrassed and at the same time extremely humbled.

Earlier that morning in our Training we talked about the Mind pulling us into our thinking self. That same morning we had met the happiest lady on earth. Her recipe? Don’t think too much. Just observe, work and enjoy tea and don’t let the mind get in the way. Too simple? Maybe. However, the lesson was powerful – from the happiest lady in the world.

And time stood still - a first lesson in Mindfulness

The bus ride was long this time. It was raining heavily and we encountered two multi-car accidents trying to get out of Shanghai city area. The group was tired and all sleeping having woken early hours to arrive at Shanghai South bus station for the bus to Lin’an.

I was awake in the bus like a shepherd watching over his sheep. I am always a little nervous with a new group coming to do the three-day Mindfulness Training at Zaoxi. Will the group be able to make the cultural transition? Will they cope with the remote conditions? I reminded myself that we had carefully screened the group so things should be OK. I practised mindfulness skills to bring myself back into the present moment and out of the “things-could-go-wrong” story my mind wanted to play with.

I looked out in front. We had passed the Hangzhou exit and mountains became visible with peaks shrouded in rain clouds. Soon we would be in Lin’an.

Arriving in Lin’an bus station we were greeted by Lijuan who always insists we need to eat before taking the last part of the journey into the mountains. Autumn was advancing so warm tea and rice made a welcomed respite. Then it was cramming into the small bus to climb the steep Tianmu mountains.

The group again fell silent as we wound along narrow mountain roads deep into the bamboo forests. The mist became fog as we climbed in altitude reaching into the very “eyes of heaven” as Tianmu means. I remembered my first trip up the mountain. I was silent too, wondering what to expect. Much of my own silence was wonderment at the sheer beauty. . . but that was spring time and there were no foreboding mists warning us of snow to come. Hervé who had come all the way from France put on his ski gloves. The temperature was falling with each kilometre. Finally we entered the village of Shi Ta Wan. I love to try to read the faces of the group as they look about. . .the mix of emotions from fear to wonderment. Soon they would be learning valuable and enriching lessons of the trickery of the mind and how to overcome their fear and inner-talk.

We made our way to the retreat house. Warm greetings from “mama” and “baba” our hosts and as usual the village elder was there to say “hello” the only English word in his vocabulary. Hot local tea was quickly served and we sipped on its smoky and woody flavour.

“Baba” came up to Lisa and wanted to inspect her watch. She graciously took it off for him. He inspected it like a mechanic trying to figure out the fault in a seized motor holding it at nose distance due to his ailing eyesight. He motioned to the clock on the wall. It is an old clock. It is covered with some spider webs and dust. It has obviously not been touched for many years. In fact it had been given to the family by their daughter who had once made a trip to the large town. No one thought that it actually needed batteries! It didn’t matter. Baba could not tell the time, anyway. Lisa asked JJ to translate into local dialect how Baba knows what time to rise in the morning and go to work. “Oh”, he stumbled, as if embarrassed by the answer he was about to give. “I wake up when my wife stokes the fire for breakfast.” “But how does she know what time to get up?” replied Lisa from Australia. “She just knows. It’s her tradition.” I watched the faces of the group. There was a short silence again. I noticed a small tear in the corner of Lisa’s eye. In that moment of time, time had stood still for us. The deep silence punctuated the moment. Lisa did not put her watch back on. I noticed she slipped it in her coat pocket. It was no longer of value to her. She had received her first lesson in Mindfulness, the world of no-time.

It was soon time for the group to get unpacked. Did I say “time.”? How did I know it was “time”. It just was.

Next Mindfulness Training in April 2010, see www.taishendo.com for details.

Eliminate or Adapt?

Though we may not realise it most of us are faced with this question on a daily basis, or perhaps several times a day. Things happen or are said that give us unpleasant feelings. Sometimes it is about things that have not happened yet - fear, confusion or struggle about the future. Do we try to get rid of those painful thoughts and feelings or do we accept them? No one wants unhappy thoughts or negative feelings. So, we most often do what comes natural to each of us – we either try to fight off the thinking (“I must think positive thoughts!” “I have to stop thinking about this!” “God, damn it! It’s his fault I’m like this!”) or we run in the opposite direction, called avoidance – have a few glasses of wine, have another cigarette, get into another relationship, go on a holiday. While some of these things are not so “bad” in themselves, in the long term are they helpful?

Most of us have tried all types of things to deal with painful thoughts and feelings only to find that eventually they keep coming back. Many years ago I found myself reading over my daily journaling. I had kept a journal for several years since someone told me that writing down your thoughts – getting them out on paper – was the way to deal with painful or negative emotions. Well, when I do something I usually do it to the max! I had kept a trunk full of old journal books. I chanced to gaze on the 5th of April 1997. The theme of the entry was my usual struggle with relationships. I looked back one year. 5th April 1996. I was shocked. It was the same stuff. I looked back on the 5th of April 1994. Still the same stuff! Nothing had changed. I immediately felt defeated. Struggle with my thinking was a daily routine. Sounds familiar? Many of us spend a huge amount of energy, time and money in the struggle trying to eradicate or eliminate the pain.

It was not until several years later I chanced to be in Shanghai, China and was introduced to a man who changed my life by changing my thinking. He has been the subject of a previous blog, the Venerable Xinming, an elderly monk from Hangzhou. He related to me how during the Cultural Revolution many monks left China for Taiwan or Hong Kong. Some stayed to resist the cultural change and paid a heavy price. Xinming told his story:

“I left the monastery, discarded my robes and went to Shanghai. Resistance is violence. The Precept tells us that we must not kill or be the cause of killing. If I resisted then I would have caused the guards to kill me and thus place them in a terrible hell. Robes do not make a monk. Temples and books do not make a monk. My life is not dependant on things but my state of mind. I was still a monk at heart. . .in my heart. I did not cease to recite the sutras silently or to “nienfo” (Buddha Name Recitation). I simply adapted. I had a purpose. This unfolded the way for me. My purpose was to live my vows no matter what and be true to myself. I was like a Chameleon. This lizard does not change being a lizard in his new environment. He simply adapts and changes his external appearance. This is the way. We must adapt.” Xinming concluded with a full heart laugh.

It took me some time to fully integrate the venerable monk’s words into my life but eventually they took root.

What does this mean to those of us who struggle with our thoughts and feelings?

Firstly acknowledge the feelings and thoughts. Realize that they are normal. They are part of what the human mind produces.

Secondly realize that you can observe them rather than getting caught up in them like watching cars pass by while standing on the side of the road instead of standing in the middle of the traffic.

Thirdly give them space. Breathe into them. Expand. Here our aim is flexibility – psychological flexibility. Breathing is very important and being present to the feelings the thoughts produce in your body. Allow them to simply be while all the time breathing into them.

Fourthly find what gives you purpose in life. What are you here for? What gives you vitality? Are you being true to your deep inner self? Continue to move in this direction as this will provide the energy.

Remember; do not get caught in the trap of trying to eradicate them. They will drag you down. The man caught in the quicksand can either struggle and sink or stop kicking about and float on the top, adapting, and perhaps having a far better chance of surviving.

This is the way of Mindfulness.

Kitchen Spirituality

We sat in the pre-dawn darkness lit only by the flicker of small candles gently illuminating a statue of Kuan Yin, the Bodhisattva of Compassion and Mercy. The autumn air was brisk. The silence of our meditation was punctuated by the occasional “hiss” of steam droplets falling from the lid of the old pot on the charcoal stove cooking the morning rice porridge. The scent of incense and charcoal wafted past. The silent mind floated on the edge of our breath.

Suddnely I sensed Jin Jin stir and softly but quickly get up from the lotus position. I brought my mind back to the meditation. Then a whisper of frustration as an ”Oh No!” came from the kitchen area of the small Chinese rural retreat hut.
The aroma of burnt porridge told the story.

Burnt porridge and meditation - two phenomena from seemingly two different worlds. Yet we are faced with this on a daily basis. While we want the peace and tranquility of our meditation to stretch throughout the day the reality is our day is so often full of the ordinary tasks: cooking, washing dishes, cleaning, ironing, eating, meetings, agendas etc. The peace seems so often bustled.

However, Meditation is like sitting. You can sit in a meditation hall, a dining room, a bus, yes- the loo!! You can sit almost anywhere. The space where you sit does not alter the “sitting”. “Sitting” is “sitting” no matter where you sit. This goes for meditation as well. Meditation is mindfulness – being in the present moment with buddha (awakened) mind. The problem is that for most of us for most of the day we are far from being in the present moment. Meditation becomes that grasped moment in the morning before going to work or sending the kids off to school.

I once asked my Master where is the best place for meditation. His answer was far from my expectation. “In the kitchen” was his reply. The kitchen? “Yes, the kitchen can teach you all about life.”

Meditation is about being connected to the fullness of life – the Buddha moment. Use all of your five senses to connect. Instead of going about your tasks like a robot while your mind is chatting away in the background about the struggles that life brings us, try getting out of your mind and connect fully to the present moment. Look at the colours of the food you are preparing, the shapes, texture. Listen to the sound as you peel the vegetables or the sound of the hissing of the pot steaming away, the knife hitting the chopping board. Feel the implements in your hand, the pressure, the smoothness of the vegetables etc Smell the aromas of the spices, taste the flavours. Do this for about twenty minutes. Fully connect with what you are doing.

In Buddhism we have a Zen saying: “Before enlightenment, chop wood. After enlightenment, chop wood.” The secret of life is in doing the ordinary things extraordinarily well. It is also about community. The Sangha is the community and is one of the Three Jewels. It is in the kitchen that we have the opportunity to create community in preparing the meal for others to enjoy.

That Autumn morning in the retreat hut as we looked out across the Chinese countryside we came together after meditation and laughed about the burnt porridge. Jin Jin added some soy milk, stirred the pot, added something else and served us a wonderful breakfast. Even that small action told us about how to deal with life that suddenly goes off the rails. All of life is both drama and dharma! The kitchen is a wonderful spiritual teacher.

Buddhist Meditation - Relaxation or Mindfulness?

Many people come seeking Buddhism as a way of coping with stress and the undercurrent of quiet discontent that infects many of us in the West. Many more are drawn to Buddhist meditation as a means of finding relaxation.

There are many forms of Buddhist meditation. The seeker needs to find one style that suits their life-style and personality.

I write in this article about Pure Land (Jing Tu) Buddhist meditation. In Pure Land practise the reciting of the name of Amida Buddha is central. Amida Buddha is the Buddha of Infinite Light and Life. Through the constant recitation of his name we gradually become one with his quality of light and life. There is nothing extraordinary about this. It is common psychology. Repeat a concept or thought often enough and one becomes cognitively fused with that thought especially if there are strong emotions attached.

The practise of reciting the name of Amida Buddha is called "nien-fo" in Chinese. The Chinese character "nien" conveys the meaning of bringing our heart/mind into the present moment and of being "mindful" of this present moment. In Chinese Buddhism we chant : "Namo Amitofuo" meaning "homage to Amida Buddha" or simply "amitofuo".

For new comers to Pure Land Buddhism this is a rather curious practice as it seems at first to be quite boring and repetitive. Do not be deceived. This is a precious gem. Firstly it is a big mistake that many make that meditation is about relaxation. This is not the point of Buddhist meditation and it is not the goal of Pure Land meditation. A sense of relaxation is very often a by-product of meditating but we must not make it our aim as we can be very disappointed. There will be many times when our meditations are quite irritating as we struggle with the mind. The aim of Pure Land meditation or "nien-fo" is to attain single pointedness and purity of mind.

Nien-fo is done either aloud, silently, whispering or within one's mind (often called Diamond Meditation). In nien-fo we accept our transient thoughts like cars passing by our window without becoming attached to them while all the time holding on or reverting our attention to the name "amitofuo". In terms of psychology this is the essence of mindfulness practice.

In Buddhism we understand the mind to be the source of much suffering as we become fused with our thinking. A simple example is anxiety. If while meditating we have an anxious thought the tendency is often to struggle with that thought and thus become anxious about being anxious! In Pure Land nien-fo, we accept the thought of anxiety even perhaps naming it: "My mind is having an anxious thought". Then we move on ever repeating "amitofuo". The thirteenth Patriarch of Pure Land the Venerable Yin Kuang tells us that it does not matter if we have all types of thoughts. "Amitofuo goes before them and Amitofuo goes after them. That is all that matters."

With much practise the "monkey thoughts" become less and less. As I have said, meditation is not about relaxing. It is about mindfulness. Of course we will have many times when we will feel relaxed and peaceful after a meditation but this is NOT to be the goal.

Over many life times we have built up an accumulation of evil karma (and good karma as well). The evil karma is like a giant glass of muddy water. We could try to tip the water out and refill the glass with fresh, clean water but the glass is so huge we are unable to lift it or move it. The only way is through the law of displacement. Each time we recite the name of Amida Buddha it is like a small droplet of pure water released from a dropper into the muddy water. Eventually the water will overflow from the glass and gradually the muddy water will be replaced by fresh crystal clear water. Let the glass of water on your altar be a reminder of that as you single mindedly hold the thought "amitofuo". With regular practice a sense of deep contentment will gradually replace the discontent.

Amitofuo

What is T'ai Shen Do?

Many people are curious about these three Chinese words. Is T'ai Shen Do some sort of martial art? Is it a new religion? Is it some previously unknown Buddhist or Taoist sect? None of these!

From a young age I was exposed to Chinese culture and Buddhism and it was with much intrigue and often amusement that I watched the "New Age" philosophies and medicines being introduced into Australian culture - Acupuncture, Chinese Herbal Medicine, Taoism and Buddhism. Of course, there is nothing "new" in terms of age about these phenomena. They have been around for millenniums. The things that amused me was the West took these little snippets of Chinese medicine and philosophy, isolated them and separated them and pretended that they had the whole truth! Wrong! One cannot separate an integrated system and expect sound results.

Similarly there has been an increased interest in Chinese Buddhism in the West. The danger here again lies in the desire to separate it from the rest of Chinese culture. Much Western spirituality is compartmentalized and segregated from the rest of daily life - something done on one day of the week with little relevance or reference to other aspects of daily life. On the other hand, Chinese life is dependent upon the complex web of interconnection and interdependence. As a practitioner of traditional Chinese Pure Land Buddhism I was challenged with this fragmentation. The Masters and Patriarchs of Pure Land were all steeped from birth in a complete Chinese cultural tradition. Their relationship to their physical and mental health, environment and social ethics was fairly and squarely based upon an interconnected Chinese way of life.

As a Pure Land practitioner and mental health educator I have serious reservations about compartmentalizing Buddhism and isolating it from its cultural environment. In the natural order we know that if an organism is taken from its natural environment an web of interconnections it will die. Just try to take a fish out of water and see if it will live! Chanting, meditating and prostrating without living in harmony with our physical, mental, social, moral and environmental domains will have little effect on the practitioner and may even be harmful in the long term. Likewise to deal with a mental health issue in isolation from the physical and spiritual self is setting up for failure.

As a result I coined the phrase "T'ai Shen Do" to express a practise of Pure Land Buddhism that remains faithful to its tradition steeped in a Chinese philosophical way of life. The T'ai Shen Do methodology is about balancing the Five Pillars of life (Right Spirituality, Right Mindfulness, Right Relationship, Right Consumption and Right Movement) in a similar way to the classic Five Phases of Traditional Chinese Medicine.

The words 'T'ai Shen Do' 泰神道 mean the Peaceful Spirit Way. The Chinese character 泰 'T'ai' has particular interest. It has several meanings which are like colours on an artist's palette which when combine paint a word picture. 'T'ai' means peace, safety/security, and 'extreme height' as being on top of a mountain. In ancient times there was safety and security in being on top of a mountain as one could see the enemy coming from a great distance and be prepared. In a state of T'ai Shen we are able through practice to have a broad view of life and an awareness of the enemy within. The method (Tao/Do) of T'ai Shen is to bring all aspects of life into harmony and gentle peace.

T'ai Shen Do is not a new Buddhism. It is an awareness of Buddhism lived out in harmony with all of life and not in isolation from life. Buddhism embraces life but does not become attached to it. Further, it embraces ALL of life as a way of life. This is T'ai Shen Do.

Mind the traffic in Shanghai

It was mid afternoon and I was running late for an appointment. I was stuck right in the middle of four lanes of Shanghai traffic trying to cross the road. I still had another two lanes to negotiate. If only the traffic stayed in their lanes in orderly fashion. However, this was Shanghai where buses did war with motor 'scooterists', bicycles did war with barrow pushers, cars did war with cyclists and the whole lot did war with the pedestrian! I was starting to panic a little as I was nearly side wiped by a bus towering beside me. At last I made it to the other side, took a deep breath as the adrenalin took its last rush along the highways of my veins then picked up the pace darting amongst the mass of bodies as I rushed to the appointment.




Later in the evening I was to meet a friend in Xujiahui who was inviting me to meet his "master". I had never met a "master" before and wondered what to expect. Yan had told me that his master was a Buddhist monk who was in Shanghai for a few days from the tranquil Buddhist island of Mt Putuo off the coast of China.





Earlier in the day over breakfast Yan eagerly shared with me his story of how he came to discover Buddhism. Living the life in the fast lane as a Manager of a large hotel chain Yan described how his life had sunk to flirting with wine and women and how during a 'morning-after' walk full of remorse and 'never-agains' he chanced to walk into the grounds of a temple in Hangzhou. There he met his "master". "Your mind looks like a traffic jam" were the first words of his "master" almost clairvoyantly uttered. Yan told me his words could not have been more accurate. Yan went on to tell me how after about two hours' conversation with this elderly monk he felt he could start life all over again. Yan's face was a smiling shining disc. I was intrigued.





He looked right out of place. So much so I felt a little embarrassed. As we walked inside the ritzy Shanghai restaurant there in front of us with a gentle, almost cheeky grin, was Yan's "master" dressed in yellow Buddhist robes. Two worlds had collided. The world of the rich and opulent and the world of the humble and spiritual. Perhaps I could say: "Three worlds collided." The third world was mine, trying to make sense of all of this. Yan introduced me: "This is Master Xin Ming". I bowed and awkward bow and stumbled with my Chinese. We were ushered to a table by a seeming equally embarrassed waitress.





There ensued some conversation about Putuo Shan, or Mt Putuo as it is referred to in English, then Yan said: "Malcolm wishes to speak with you." I could have aimed a gentle kick under the table at Yan. At this point in my journey my life had been in turmoil dramatically breaking up a relationship with a lady I had been going out with after learning she was in fact married to a government official who if he had found out cold have easily made me disappear into the remotest part of Siberia never to be seen again. Thoughts were spinning around in my head. No, more than that, the thoughts and feelings dominated my head! I really did not want to speak to this holy man as I had nothing to say except to wallow in my own suffering. I was keen to know how old he was using an old avoidance tactic, so hoping to get an answer an indirect way I asked: "When did you first become a monk?" "I am eighty-four. I have been a monk since I was eighteen." I was shocked. Could this gentle man have known my intended question? Xin Ming immediately put me at ease by telling me about his life as a monk especially during the Cultural Revolution. I sat transfixed at his story. Then he stopped suddenly and changed his tone while looking almost as if straight though me. "You need to get out of the middle of the traffic or you will get run over. You can't stop the traffic in Shanghai and you can't stop it in Malcolm. Get to the other side. There on the other side of the road you are safe. From there you can watch the traffic." I was stunned. My mind swept back to my pirouetting in the middle of the traffic in the morning on my way to my appointment and then suddenly walked slap bang into the wall of my own illusion.





The evening conversation continued lightly but the seed was sown in my brain. The lesson was clear. My first lesson in Mindfulness. . .and my first shaky steps in Buddhism.