using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Buddhadharma : Summer 2015
88 buddhadharma: the practitioner’s quarterly summer 2 0 1 5 SEVERAL YEARS AGO, while training at a monastery hidden in the woods of Missouri, I met a monk who changed my life. He was called Venerable Dao Yang, and he was from China. I had been tasked with retrieving him from the airport. There he stood, somewhat tall, with a pale complex- ion and short black hair. Over the traditional robes of a Chinese monk, he wore boots and a winter jacket. He seemed not only uncon- cerned about the whereabouts of his luggage but his tranquil demeanor also suggested that he would be perfectly happy standing by that luggage carousel for the rest of his life. Venerable Dao Yang and I become fast friends. I was curious how he practiced. “Do you meditate?” I asked him. “No,” he answered. Maybe he’s a scholar, I thought. But he told me he didn’t study. His main practice was doing hundreds of prostrations a day. I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know whether to respect or dismiss this man. But he was so kind, so gentle. Anytime I had a question for him, he put aside what he was doing and gave me his full attention. While he appeared to be in his late twenties, he DAVID ROTHBlATT, a musician, artist, and former Buddhist monk, lives in the Chicago suburbs. Journeys it’s about letting go by david rothblatt was actually forty-two. His practice seemed to have a healing effect. It was a magical and intense period in my life; I was preparing to become a monk myself. My teacher told me that I needed to do lots of bowing. He said it allows us to cast off our egos, and that this was impor- tant for me because I was American and had an overly developed sense of self-impor- tance. I had to admit, he had a point. This isn’t about gaining something. This is a practice about letting go—letting go of who we think we are, our ideas, our stories, everything that makes us stressed and upset. When we bow, we are meditating with our whole body. As our palms gently touch the hard floor of the monastery, there is a feel- ing of homecoming, of arriving home for the first time. We’re leaving behind our greed, our hatred, our resentment, and our harmful desires and returning to this earth. We touch the ground and we know we are truly alive. This practice is about casting off what is men- tally and emotionally holding us back; any- thing we can do to let go of our greed, anger, and delusion is a true Buddhist practice. One warm, sunny day, as I was picking weeds in the garden, I noticed through a window the Venerable Dao Yang doing his bowing practice. He wore an expression of boundless joy. I could feel a kind of tranquil electricity coming through the window and into the surrounding forest. The morning he left, I walked into his empty room. It wasn’t just clean—it was clean. There was an air of purity of spirit. There was a sense of joy and goodness in that room. I began to wonder if I left the same essence behind. After some reflection, I decided probably not. But it was inspiring to know that by the simple act of purifying our hearts and minds, we can inspire others. PHOTO | richard seah