There comes the fog!

Pocono is a most famous honeymoon spot in America.  One day, everybody was joking that Pocono is the most suitable place for the "R" type people to live.  For example, Pocono is a honeymoon place for Romantic people, a vacation place for Rich people, a retirement place for Retired people, and a good practice place for Religious people.  Because of wonderful causes and conditions, Vairocana Monastery was established in the place, which is not only beautiful with its sceneries, but also suitable for practices.

Pocono's mountains are very beautiful.  The beauty of these mountains lies in its untreated purity and in its natural creation; the awakening of spring, the clearness of summer, the colorfulness of fall, and the pure whiteness of winter.  Amid the occasional clouds and fogs, the mountains look especially misty and interesting.

In the rainstorm of a spring night, the flowers in the garden took a serious beating.  During a stroll in the morning, I saw that the Rhododendrons, which were blooming red just last week, were left in a state unbearable to watch.  Even the always standing tall aris was near its last breathes.  Such a scene of impermanence reminded me of a poem I learned before:

Last night, the rain was sparse and the wind gusty.
I was drunk and couldn't finish the remaining wine.
I asked the maid who rolled up the blind.
She said the Haitang flowers were still the same.
Do you know?  Do you know?
Rainstorm should make the green plants strong and the red flowers slim.

Did the maid answer carelessly?  Or did she look without seeing?  How could the haitang flowers, severely beaten by the wind and rain last night, possibly remain the same as before?  I could not remember who the author was or whether the author was a Buddhist, other than the sentiment of the poem about the impermanence in the poem and the fact that the author, while drunken and dazed, was still able to sense the changes and phenomena of cause and effects in the surroundings.  It was exactly the author's clear and aware mind that made this poem unforgettable since I read it when I was in the Middle School.  We should try to examine ourselves whether in the tides of birth and death with complex causes and effects we can have the same aware mind as the author, or we also look without seeing just like the unaware person who rolled up the blind.

Strolling in the morning fog is my favorite.  Neither fixed in a certain direction nor bound by time, I forget myself and all I had was a clear mind.  When the fog was thick, it felt like I was in a heaven on earth.  Walking and walking, I unknowingly got wet by the misty fog.

A Japanese Zen Master described that practicing Zen is like a person walking in the fog; it takes long time to taste Zen gradually.  Just like a person entering in the fog; it takes long time to get wet.  Some people relate that learning language is like a person entering in the fog.  The longer person stays in the fog, the more he/she gets wet, and the more he/she progresses in his/her learning.  On the other hand, aren't our habits also like that?  The more we get wet, the heavier we are (defiled).  The heavier we are defiled, the harder we can clear it up.  At the end, we could harm ourselves.  We may create Karma just in a second but we will pay it back for many lifetime.  I remember my Master had warned us more than once:

"When you practice, the demon may enter through the door of your habits!  We should maintain clear awareness twenty-four hours a day, just like a cat guarding the mouse hole, not giving the mouse any opportunity to come out and create troubles."

Many people are wondering that why we need to practice for many eons instead of achieving Buddhahood in an instant?  We should try to examine our heavy habitual delusions accumulated through our many past lifetimes.  If we do not practice diligently and honestly for many lifetimes, how can we clear up such heavy defilement and get enlightened some day?

After coming back from the morning stroll in the fog and taking a short break, I put on the Monastic robe (Kasaya) and lighted up incense.  The morning service began in the sound of magnificent chanting.