Reflection of Time Passed
During my first meditation interview with Namgyal Rinpoche I asked, “How can I serve you”? Rinpoche looked at me. “I think the Pagoda needs painting. What colour should it be?” Stunned, I sheepishly asked, “What’s a pa...goda?” He said, “The pagoda on the hill, should it be white or gold?” The hill? “Ummm any practices I should do?” He urged me to organize the painting, sweep around the monument and sent me for additional instructions. Walking away from the Temple, a vehicle rolled up beside me. The window lowered. Rinpoche pointed to the hill. “There! That’s a Pagoda.” He laughed. I nodded. They drove off. Ugggh now what? Does anyone know how hard it is for a 20-something newbie to tell DCC members what Rinpoche wants? Luckily some kind beings took pity on me.
Fast forward years later, when Ven. Sayadaw U Thila Wunta, the Pagoda builder, returned to the DC. As the Sayadaw walked around the pagoda, with one cane he pointed at me and then to the car coming to pick him up. Feeling deeply connected, never having met him, I took instruction and jumped in the back seat. We drove to the Buddha Rupa building site. I sat meditating on the ground as the men prepared the site. A woman whispered in my ear to not sit cross legged. Earlier she had instructed me on how I, as a woman, should sit. Instead, I kept meditating the only way I knew how, crossed legged.
When Sayadaw said, “You – Goat. Work,” I jumped up and began work on the Buddha Rupa and later the small Pagoda with my new builder buddy Richard Clark, day after day. Occasionally, Sayadaw would throw an apple my way, “Hungry Goat, Hungry Goat.” Goat = Ghost. I smiled ate the apple and worked on the monuments. Whether I was a hungry goat or ghost, it didn’t matter. As a young woman, I worked with U Dana and U Ekasata, the two Burmese monks, who became my most esteemed friends those weeks. Sayadaw commented on how happy I was every day.
Later, I travelled to Burma to visit the Sayadaw’s monastery, the Dat Pon Zon Aung Min Gaung . While I sat at Sayadaw’s feet, I overheard that women would end up dead if they worked on a Pagoda. According to Burmese tradition, women are not to work on these holy monuments. Utterly confused I ran to U Ekasata. “Why do women say these things? Is this true?” I’ll never forget Ekasata’s response. With caring eyes, he bluntly said, “You worked on them. Did you die?” “No.” “Well then....” The translator explained, “This is these women’s beliefs.” While I knew otherwise, I needed to accept the role Burmese women upheld at that time. I am so thankful to have worked at the DCC alongside these monks and teachers; building monuments that continue to rain blessings and are interdependently linked together for the cultivation of world peace.
Shelane Donoghue