What does being a Dharmacharya mean to me?
By Joanne Friday and Ernestine Enomoto
So far, it has meant a time of deep reflection and practicing don’t-know mind. Sangha building has been my main focus for the last ten years. During that process, there were times when I was attached to outcomes and things were not going as I’d hoped or thought they should. I had no idea what to do.
What does being a Dharmacharya mean to me?
By Joanne Friday and Ernestine Enomoto
So far, it has meant a time of deep reflection and practicing don’t-know mind. Sangha building has been my main focus for the last ten years. During that process, there were times when I was attached to outcomes and things were not going as I’d hoped or thought they should. I had no idea what to do. At each of those junctures I’d realize that all I could do was deepen my practice by doing beginning anew for myself, seeking out teachers, being more mindful, etc. It was almost miraculous how the problems would work themselves out when I would take care of my own business. So first, I look at the transmission to be an invitation to deepen my practice.
With the invitation to receive the lamp transmission came many teachings. Initially, I felt unworthy – that a mistake had been made. I knew how imperfect my practice was. Then I realized that Thay and the monastics and my Sangha brothers and sisters knew that too. The fact that I was loved and accepted as I was, and that I was being trusted to do my best, was tremendously healing for me.
My habit energy would normally cause me to lack confidence and be fearful. However, almost immediately I experienced a deep sense of non-self, which led to non-fear and deep gratitude. I knew this ordination was not about “me,” it was about all of my non-self elements. When I considered that Thay, the fourfold Sangha, all my ancestors and friends were alive in every cell of my body, it was unthinkable to feel not good enough or fearful. To be a Dharma teacher seems a huge responsibility, but not a heavy burden because “I” am not doing it. The one who bows and the one who is bowed to are both empty! When I think of how incredibly fortunate I am to have had all these wonderful teachers and teachings become part of me, the gratitude is almost too much to hold.
I have learned how strong our Sangha is. That has been my deepest happiness. Everyone has been the embodiment of sympathetic joy and has supported me in every way. Two members even came to France to be my attendants. While we were there, the other members worked together to organize and facilitate all the Sangha meetings. It was clear that there was no them and no me and that we were receiving the transmission.
It has been easy for me to see how much I don’t know. In order to practice compassion for myself, I have also looked at what I do know. The main thing that I know is that I have come from a place of deep suffering and that by practicing, I have been able to transform my suffering into joy. I have complete confidence in the practice, based on what I know is true from my own experience. So overall, when I look deeply, what it has meant so far is a deepened confidence in the Three Jewels, a new understanding of emptiness, and a wonderful opportunity and invitation to deepen my practice.
Part of the gatha Thay offered me is “All gifts will be given and received without attachment… You meet all beings with love and compassion.” That seems to me to be a wonderful assignment. My Dharma name is True Gift of Joy. In Vietnamese there are a number of different words for gift. The one in my name means a gift given with no expectation of anything in return. I feel that that is how the Dharma has been given to me. It has been a true gift of joy. My deepest aspiration is to be able to pass it on.
Joanne Friday, Chan Lac Thi, True Gift of Joy, practices with the Clear Heart Sangha in Matunuck, RI.
It’s Tuesday evening and instead of being at Sangha as usual, I am home in bed with stomach flu. In nearly four and a half years of steady attendance at our Tuesday evening sits, I am missing my second Sangha meeting this year. So what does this have to do with being a Dharma teacher?
For me, the message is to let go and allow Sangha members to lead the evening as they have done so wonderfully in the past when I was unable to attend. It means stepping aside and nurturing from the sidelines, rather than from the front and center. It means acknowledging the maturing of members who have been coming regularly over these past four years and are now assuming leadership roles.
It was only last fall that we decided to meet weekly as a Sangha, rather than twice a month. To take this step, I needed to trust in the maturity of the Sangha. Becoming a Dharma teacher has meant acknowledging the collective wisdom of the greater Sangha body. We trust that together we can learn, grow, mature, and unfold like the petals of the lotus bud. Individually, we need to put stock in that trust and know that if we take care of our part, the rest will unfold.
An example of this occurred during my travels to Plum Village in January to be ordained. I live in Honolulu, Hawaii, where we enjoy a mild tropical climate year round. The temperature hovers between seventy and eighty degrees Fahrenheit. Knowing how cold it can get in Plum Village, even in May and early June, I found daunting the prospect of flying to France at the beginning of January even for an ordination ceremony to become a Dharma Teacher. I also would need warm clothing that I do not possess. Prior to my departure, one of our Sangha members, Wilma, offered advice based on her years of traveling in cold places like Tibet and Nepal. She loaned me a cap, scarf, gloves, and a couple of sweaters to keep me warm. But the need still seemed somewhat unreal when sitting in eighty-degree weather.
I departed for France on January fifth, a balmy Sunday evening in Honolulu, flying to San Francisco and then on to Paris. The connection to Bordeaux was tight and although I made it, my luggage did not. As we later learned, a snowstorm had blanketed Paris days before, delaying air and other traffic. Fortunately I met others bound for Plum Village – Terry, Patrick, and Travis from Parallax Press, all standing in line to claim lost luggage at the Bordeaux airport. We would not see our luggage for the entire ten days that we were in France!
I arrived at the Lower Hamlet of Plum Village with only a backpack, some toiletries, and an extra-large t-shirt. Not only was I tired and jet lagged but I had no warm clothing. Feelings of upset, anxiety, and worry arose; the practice of mindfulness allowed me to return to the present moment. I let go and asked for help. Terry from California gave me a pair of long underwear and an extra washcloth. Elizabeth from Boston loaned me a lovely silk undershirt and underwear. Sister Eleni collected a coat, some sweaters, pullovers, and woolen socks from the Plum Village clothing stockpile for me. Joanne and Richard from Providence gave me a green down vest to wear under the coat. Soon I was layered and warm. Had my luggage arrived as planned, I would have frozen because my Hawaiian wardrobe was inadequate for the cold weather. I might not have asked for help. Letting go and trusting the Sangha, I was able to stay warm.
My luggage was finally delivered to Upper Hamlet on the afternoon of January fifteenth, after I had departed for Bordeaux. Fortunately friends Feifei and Brandon delivered the luggage to the airport the next morning in time for my departure. This story reminds me to trust the Sangha and release my worries about how I sometimes think life should be, and instead enjoy life as it truly is -miraculous, wondrous and ever changing. I suspect that becoming a Dharma Teacher will continue to evolve in that way.
Ernestine Enomoto, True Mindfulness of Peace, practices with the Honolulu Mindfulness Community in Hawaii. Each month, she leads Days of Mindfulness with walks along a white sandy beach.