Doi Suthep- Part IX: Tending the Garden

Author's Note: In my last blog entry, I insinuated that America's current commander-in-chief may or may not be developmentally disabled.  Following that posting, I received several irate responses from my readers.  I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for that ill-conceived comparison.  It was a cheap shot, and I truly did not mean to insult retarded people.

My Roses

When a monk shits in the woods, does it make a sound?  I am not sure, grasshopper, but this I can tell you: when over a hundred monks use the same bathroom every day and no one cleans the toilets, it sure as hell makes a God-awful smell.  Cleanliness may be next to godliness, but at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, it isn't even in the same vicinity of Buddhism.  I'm pretty liberal about differing cultural standards, but bathroom hygiene is where I put my foot down - or in this case, where I tread extremely lightly.....hovering, almost.

And More

On my first day at Doi Suthep, I thought that meditators might be assigned some daily work around the wat, and after getting a tour of the bathroom, my first prayer was that I would not be assigned to latrine detail.  In fact, we didn't have any chores of significance to perform.  No scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush, no helping the monks collect their early-morning alms, no cooking, and no cleaning.  We wash our own bowls after every meal, stack up the tables and chairs on the dining porch, and sweep out our rooms before we leave, but outside of that, we're free to concentrate on our meditation studies, which is both the good and bad news.

Some of the meditators take it upon themselves to create a daily activity to do, like raking leaves or watering trees.  It's a nice gesture as well as a way to keep the mind and body occupied.  As for me, I decided that my chore would be taking care of the rose bushes in the meditation garden, which I do after breakfast as the sun is coming up.  It only takes about ten minutes to clear the stray leaves from the bushes and pinch back the dead buds, but I look forward to it every day.

I learned to do this early on in my gardening career.  During the fall, as the weather gets cooler, it's important to stop pinching back new growth.  This way, a plant naturally channels its energy into the soil, strengthening the root structure and ensuring it has an adequate supply of moisture during the cold, winter months.  In the late spring and early summer, however, you can start pinching back new buds, which signals the plant to divert its energy toward the stems and leaves, producing more growth and keeping it healthy and vital.

I thought this was an appropriately symbolic activity during my three weeks of silent meditation.  As I remove the withered blossoms and allow them to fall to the ground, the opportunity for new buds to bloom and shine in today's sun is created.  The past becomes part of the present as the old petals now fertilize the soil and nurture new growth - part of a natural process that we did not begin and cannot end.  These young new flowers will eventually wither up too.  Perhaps after I leave this place, someone who watched me in idle curiosity will take my place and encourage more growth in this beautiful garden.