A Special Dana

A Western couple sponsors a meal for the revered Pa Auk Sayadaw.

With the country opening up, discussions are now ranging from democracy to capitalism, from investment to trade, and from city planning to trash management. However, one area not explored to the same depths is the Buddhist act of inner contemplation. For the opening up has also meant a renewed interest and ability in foreigners being able to access the Burma Dhamma!

In past years, even those coming for purely Buddhist reasons were looked on with suspicion for being undercover agents, and some Western monks were forcibly disrobed and forced on the next plane out. Even Sayagyi U Ba Khin lamented that the military government would not give visas longer than 7 days, if that, preventing him from teaching meditation in English to those with clear eyes and full hearts and who couldn't lose with such instruction... and yet lose that precious opportunity they did, as the doors were closed to them. But this couple, like so many others, now has that very opportunity to come not just for days, not just for weeks, but for literally months and years, with meditation visas easier to attain and more and more practice centers and monasteries only too happy to sponsor. So... what's holding you back?

The First Vipassana Course in the Philippines

Although Yangon is "only" 2662 kilometers from Manila, the two Asian (and ASEAN) countries have had little contact in the last few centuries. The British (and nearly the French) came to Burma, while the Spanish and Americans landed in the Philippines-- with only the Japanese Imperial Army briefly colonizing both. 

The two cities also reached their heyday around the same time, in the pre-WWII era, when Manila was known as the "Pearl of the Orient" and Rangoon and Mandalay were some of the most cosmopolitan cities on the continent and with the most celebrated universities. But while Burma is one of the most devotedly Buddhist countries in the world, Catholicism reigns in the Philippines, and is one of the few Asian countries in the region to have scarcely been touched ever by the Buddha's teachings. 

Yet.

Because in the last decade or so, the Philippines-- as have a number of other countries around the world-- has seen a renewed interest in the profound teachings and practice of the Buddha. Several Pa Auk monks have recently made the islands a home, and the ten-day courses in the tradition of Sayagyi U Goenka have been becoming popular. In fact, one of the initial supporters was a Catholic nun, and one course has even been held in a Catholic seminary near Cebu. 

Good news is coming for Filipino meditators, which will be shared in an upcoming post. For now, enjoy this video that recaps the first successful U Goenka course held here.

Below, a photo of the grounds of the new Vipassana center.

Ingyinbin Journal: Not to Get Carried Away

John, a meditator from New Zealand, spends extended periods in Ingyinbin each year, the home of the revered Webu Sayadaw and with his friend Ashin Mandala. This winter, he has decided to keep a journal, which he has kindly offered to share with us. His journal alternates between observation and poetry, between meditation practice and commentary about Burmese Buddhist society, from his learnings and his questions. The full collection of his musings can be found here.

11 January

Interesting to read Aya Khema and find recounted in intenser and more developed form some of the experiences that have started to occur over the past couple of weeks during Anapana. Not that what is experienced is within a long pole’s reach of the jhanas, but these days have given a more sustained settledness when meditating than hitherto and this is heartening. I walk to the hut with some degree of mindfulness, contentment and a feeling of positive anticipation. Walk through the grounds, say hello to the three young puppies who continue to refuse to be petted, and climb the five concrete steps into the hut, leaving my jandals on the platform outside the gate, which I close behind me, and then settle onto my cushion, having, on the cooler days, closed the shutters on two of the three walls and face the other. 

The body is quickly comfortable and relaxed, although the mind continues intermittently with uninvited thoughts and it can take a good 30 minutes until a stage is reached where it too feels contained and settled, not leaning out after things or feeling that things reach in after it, odd sorts of distractions really. The mind is settled yet doesn’t remain unwaveringly on the breath, a number of times it gets lulled into extraneous thoughts for up to several seconds, or even between times there continue to be fleeting little distractions, sometimes fleeting images or forms of half-thought that are not yet verbal or properly formed. Balancing this, to some extent, the mind is progressively absorbed in the calming, pleasant, upwelling body sensation that begins in the head region and slowly incorporates section by section downward the rest of the body, sometimes skipping from chest to feet and legs and then working back through the hips and torso. 

There is a slight tightness, often, in the legs that can linger, but it is not particularly uncomfortable, indeed the feeling is generally muted because along with it there is a smooth and active feeling of ease throughout the legs and the entire body. The mind tends to feel anchored in the chest or head area, but sometimes when I focus on this I realise that that is a notion more than a place and the mind can move freely and inhabit various portions of the body, not necessarily in any order, nor is it jerky. And where the mind arrives it quietens, soothes, warms and kind of stirs; the body seeming to remain body in its shape, but again on reflection that is notional and the mind and body prove a perfect accompaniment where they are together all over. This can fill a two hour sitting, although the feeling of fluidity and fullness varies from sit to sit. Much piti, both of an energetic showering kind (which seems to emanate mostly from the surface of the body) that brings refreshment and eases any tightness, and another upswelling kind that seems to emanate from or reside deep within the body itself - and the feeling that - almost that - the mind can generate or facilitate either kind, though not in an easily controlled or predictable way, rather there is a feeling of confidence to be able to bring a feeling of calm and settledness to parts of the body by concentrating the attention on them.

Like a glass of milk
topping the brim:
nothing to be added.

Agitation, where it occurs, is mental rather than physical, a feeling of eagerness to keep developing, pressing towards certain sensations occurring, or the mind being more one-pointed, or desiring the suffused sense of light, lightness of the body, to become a full-fledged patibhaga nimitta. Too eager.

Not to get carried away, the morning and evening group sittings bring me down to earth. I remain self-conscious when sitting with others, especially because I am often noisy in the throat and tend to be -

Breathing.
Commotion barely discernible.
Surrender in and out.

Listening to Pa Auk’s or U Jotika’s talks also sets me back in my modest place.

Aung San Suu Kyi: A Treasure Among Treasures

"A treasure among treasures is she who served as faithful wife,

Who built within her house a home secure and free from strife,

But treasured more is she for her unwavering devotion to the Golden Land,

Outshining even the gilded stupas with her simple elegance and open hand.

She, whose dedication to the common good is tribute to her father's name,

Whose humanity and strength of character are unalloyed by politics or worldly gain.

Oh youth of Myanmar, the jewel within your midst you seek afar

And thereby miss the glorious light of Burma's eastern star,

For true heroism is born within the heart and cannot be bought or planned.

For proof or this, you need seek no further than the lady of your land."

Bhikkhu Moneyya
Pa-Auk Tawya Buddhist University
Pyin Oo Lwin, Myanmar
September 2013

Shwe Lan Ga Lay: "More Than a Guidebook"

American nun Sayalay Sukha, a resident nun at Pa Auk, has read a draft chapter of Shwe Lan Ga Lay, and shares the following comment on the soon-to-be-released work:

"You are also inviting/sharing about Buddhism, an incredible path that offers an alternative, a way out of the massive suffering that most Americans experience on a daily basis. A way out of delusion. Wow, that is no small offering! Thus this book could even appeal to many who know very little about Buddhism but have picked up the book for a different reason.

What I am saying is that the topic you have chosen is so rich and multi-layered and could not only serve as a guide on how to not offend the Burmese when eating a meal with them but could be a doorway to freedom for those who are lost and seeking inspiration from others who have found a way into seeing their inherent goodness and true nature. That is the second theme that I was wanting to convey. That this could be more than a guidebook. Through the path of Buddhism and what the Buddha had to offer and through the eyes and embodiment of a people, country and culture who live Buddhism and has so much more inner joy than most Americans I know, we have much to learn! How does a people who live so simply, with so little and in such basic/stark conditions end up so happy? And how does a culture with so much, so abundant in food, amenities, luxuries, etc, end up so unhappy? Isn't that part of the teachings of the Buddha?

Again, this book is very timely. There are just more and more people who are going to discover the treasure of Myanmar and are going to come and use what is offered, thus this is very critical that as 'embassadors' for our fellow Americans we set the tone for our fellow Westerners and make sure that Myanmar is safeguarded and our fellow Americans are noteworthy travelers. This is an incredibly well-kept secret but not for much longer. As people are more and more lost, dissatisfied, disenchanted with their lives and hungry to return to their hearts, they are looking for such opportunities. 

Did you know that this year, there were 300 people on the waiting list, wanting to attend the 10 day Burmese-led monastic retreat at Spirit Rock Meditation Center? Five years ago, this kind of retreat would barely fill up. Also with U Tejanyia coming to America now and offering retreats and his oh-so-approachable and recently published books, the word is out! People are hungry, people are waking up, people need places such as these to get quiet and find themselves again. It is becoming a hot and in demand necessity for our Western brothers and sisters. In that sense, do not take this book lightly. This book could be the next bible for those who are ready to make the shift in their life."

Becoming a Buddhist Nun: "There is No Guidebook"

"Being a Sayalay here at Pa Auk. Pa Auk Center only does 10 precept ordination. So if you are wanting only 8 or 9 and thus want to still handle money, that is not possible here, but is at other monasteries. There is no guidebook. One really needs to find someone they connect with in order to ask questions and get some basic guidelines on what it entails to be a nun. I requested to be ordained, they accepted, the date was set, my hair was shaved, I was expected to have brown clothes and if not they give you one set and then one recites the 10 precepts in front of the teacher and that is it. You think there is a class or basic training but there is none. Once again, you are on your own to figure everything else out and to discover what is allowed and what is not. Cast to the wind in a sense. Thank goodness there is one Western Sayalay here who has been ordained for a few years now and has been kind enough to answer any of my questions and help me along the way. Without her, I would be completely lost. 

The ordained community is very kind and very helpful but not all of them speak English or even know what to inform you on as they might assume that you already know what to do and not do. It is an unfolding in every moment and when I make a grave error, then someone kindly comes up to me and then tells me so. A learn-as-you-go kind of experience. There are so many details that I will not go into but can only emphasize that it truly is a learn-as-you-go, thus one must not be in a hurry or have some agenda because it unfolds as new needs arise. Such as how to buy soap? How to travel? Since one relinquishes all one's requisites, one is then dependent on the monastery and thus needs to figure out where the go, who to talk to, how to arrange things, etc....You get a bit of the picture? Everything is relinquished, there is no guidebook or manual for either behavior or for how to acquire necessities and then one finds oneself on the holy grail trail to find out how to get one's needs met. 

Thank goodness ones needs are simple and yet issues and needs to arise. And they do get addressed but it is a treasure hunt in the making! In addition to keeping one's meditation schedule, cleaning duties, interview time slots, etc..." 

--Sayalay Sukha (Sarah Wilds)

A Bit of Freedom

"Pa Auk Meditation Center is a great place if one does not need much support and is advanced enough in their practice to meditate without much guidance on their own. The Center is so large and mainly populated by Burmese thus all the daily Dharma talks are in Burmese and so are the study groups. One can interview with a teacher a couple of times a week, so some quick guidance but even then one might have a hard time understanding the teacher's English. Aside from the regularity of the sitting times, a foreigner can be lost in a sea of silent meditators and no one to go to for support. It is a very beautiful setting and quiet and conducive enough but one needs self motivation and independent effort. 

Many people make their lives here so the level of mindfulness outside the meditation hall is mediocre as people hurry about and chat here and there. Overall, Pa Auk Main Center is a wonderful opportunity to do long term practice and go deeper with ones' practice if one is already well established. Be prepared for very basic conditions such as no fans in the meditation hall and very basic food. One might also be sharing a room which at other centers is not the case. One might take on 10 precept ordination as monk or Sayalay which is a rare opportunity for a foreigner. One can stay as long as one likes and has quite a bit of freedom while at the center."

Sayalay Sukha (Sarah Wilds)

Burmese Monasteries: Rites and Rituals, and Sitting Postures

Following are two questions by foreign yogis about residing at Burmese monasteries. Feel free to email any additional questions to us here. 

Q: At the monastery, will I have to participate in the various Buddhist rites and rituals? Or can I just do my own meditation?

A: Most Burmese monasteries are fairly relaxed and foreign visitors will not be expected to know and follow the entire range of local Buddhist customs. Additionally, some foreign yogis see their main meditation practice as bhavana and to them, what is outside this is considered extraneous or less important. However, what may be seen as “rites and rituals” to an outsider is, to a Burmese Buddhist, part and parcel of their spiritual practice. This may include making offerings Buddhist shrines and images, cleaning and cooking, chanting, working with beads, daily bowing to monks and statues, Pali studies, recitations before eating, the alms walk, etc. While foreign yogis would not be forced to be a part of any of these activities during one's stay, it is important at a minimum to show respect, and in so doing, one may also find that these can support one’s meditation practice.

Q: Is there anything I should keep in mind when sitting at a monastery?

A: The proper posture is to sit with one’s legs tucked under one. One need not keep this posture indefinitely and it is acceptable to change posture as much as one needs. One should avoid sitting directly in front of a monk and not higher, either. Burmese do not sit cross-legged when facing monks or Buddha statues, though it is not necessarily considered rude to do so. A European monk was particularly curious about this, and inquired to Sayadaw U Kovida of the Pa Auk tradition. He replied that this is no violation of any vinaya, but rather within Burmese culture it is not seen as respectful in these circumstances.What one must be sure to avoid is sitting with one’s legs held up to the chest.

Adjusting to the austere environment of the Burmese monastery can be challenging for Western yogis from a more comfortable background. This was noted by Marie Byles in Journey Into Burmese Silence, who wrote: “When she first became a nun, for ten days she went without the evening meal, and found no difficulty. What she found far more difficult was learning how to sit on the floor. For many months she evinced an indecorous eagerness to find a chair whenever there was one to be found. But six months later, stiff limbs had become supple and there was no longer difficulty.” If one is looking for a testimonial as to how long a monk or yogi has spent studying and meditating in such environments, one of the best signs is the anklebone. On those who have put in the hours, the protruding bone is deeply worn away and calloused from long hours of sitting on hard surfaces.

Sketch of an Excellent Man: Pa Auk Sayadaw

From Settie Wessels:

"In the Pa Auk Forest Monastery in Myanmar over a thousand people from all over the world are first taught 40 concentration techniques to be able to analyse the ultimate realities of Mind and Matter (Nāma and Rūpa) at subatomic particle level by 'their own direct experience.' They then proceed to practise Dependent Origination (Paticca-samuppāda) and Insight Meditation (Vipassanā) as described in the “Path of Purification” (Visuddhi Magga), a 1,500 year old summary of the Pāli texts: the legacy of the profound practical knowledge as originally taught by Gotama the Buddha.

For people in search of the truth it can be a life changing experience to learn about 'the wisdom light' produced by a concentrated mind found in the heart base - the sixth sense - described in detail. 

Rare footage of the Most Venerable Pa Auk Tawya Sayadaw explaining Vipassanã and Dependent Origination in English, illustrated by an artist/architect (watercolour, animation) make this subtle and profound knowledge enjoyable to watch even by non practitioners. 

How often can one get a glimpse into what dedicated meditators experience following complex teachings that are over 2,500 years old, thought by many to be lost to the world?

For those familiar with the Abhidhamma and other Pāli texts, it will be impossible to imagine a film that is not only "quite complete" as an introduction to - but also a fascinating watch for people unfamiliar with - the deeper teachings of the Buddha. 

The use of watercolour drawings, animations and special effects opens up this deep knowledge in a surprising and contemporary way, emphasising the role of the 'wisdom light' found in the heart base: the sixth sense."

The Bye Bye Sayadaw

For foreigners unaccustomed to the style of Burmese names, it can be confusing to understand the best way to refer to a monk, as well as to keep track of the different names used to reference a single person. It is most polite within Burmese society to use an honorific prefix before the name when referring to people. Burmese people-- including lays-- may also be known to change names more often than in other cultures. While it is not common to do so upon marriage (since family names are usually not employed), one may do so in order to change one’s luck. Then, ordination gives the aspirant a new Pali name. This is also the case for monks who reach a high level of renown, when their formal Pali name becomes superseded by the name of a place or region in which they achieved their attainments or spent extended periods of time. Indeed, at that point, it is usually considered slightly inappropriate to use their Pali-given name because it sound too personal for a monk who has become so venerated. There is no set point at which the monk’s name formally changes from the Pali name to one that includes the site or regional inference, but rather it is an organic process conferred by the followers and other monks. In such cases, many devotees who come later may never learn the name of the monk at all.

This was true of U Nyanadhaja, who spent time in Ledi forest; U Kumara, who resided in Webula Hills; and U Vimala, who spent the Japanese occupation in Baw Ba Tant Caves near Mogok. Some titles have a less clear origin, such as U Sobhana, who took the name of the monastery where he was residing, which itself was named after a famous “big drum” (or Maha Si); or the monk who was a former royal tutor and later went to live in the wild Sagaing Hills, eventually living in seclusion in a “cave of birds”, and becoming known at Hngettwin Sayadaw. Others, such as U Āciṇṇa in the Pa Auk tradition, may take on the name of their lineage, and he is commonly known today simply as Pa Auk Sayadaw; or U Aindarwanthais, who is referred to as the tenth Ledi Sayadaw (according to Mendelson, this started only in the 19th century). This was even so of U Lawkanatha, who during his lifetime was known commonly as “Italy Sayadaw,” referencing his place of birth. This is perhaps better than the name given to an American monk who would communicate the only words of English that village novices knew when seeing them, saying “bye bye.” Eventually they came to calling Bhikkhu Cintita the Bye Bye Sayadaw.

From a Western perspective, say that a relatively unknown monk has traveled to Eugene, Oregon, and here he begins to practice seriously in the forests surrounding the town. As he begins to get known throughout the state and beyond, some may refer to him in a short-handed way as “the Eugene Sayadaw.” Eventually he may become so renowned that the definite article “the” is dropped and “Eugene Sayadaw” begins to be used a proper name. When rendered in English, different authors choose to use or omit the definite article, and today some consider the use of the definite article to be more formal. 

"Why do young Burmese girls become novice nuns?"

"Why do young Burmese girls become novice nuns?"

The truth is that many young girls join the Order out of economic necessity. Anecdotally, one Burmese lay supporter estimated that only one child out of ten chooses to wear robes from her own volition. Ma Thanegi agrees with this assessment. “They don't choose to be nuns,” she says. “Here I'm talking about female children, not late teen girls. They may be orphaned or abandoned by poor parents.”

Paradoxically, there are also many well-known stories of middle-class young girls who feel a great volition towards the Holy Life, but their family tries to veer them towards more traditional careers. As the above-mentioned lay supporter goes on to share, “even when the person is 30 or more years old, the family members have great difficulty allowing the ordination-- and even though they allow it, they weep during the ceremony.”

This was true for one Burmese nun who had been meditating at Pa Auk for some time as a lay woman. She had wanted to become a nun from a young age, but her parents persuaded her to first get her University degree. She did this, but immediately came to live at Pa Auk after this, for she sought spiritual development. Then, she wished to study Pali and Buddhist scriptures, so she decided to enter a nunnery, to which her family finally gave her permission.

Ma Thanegi agrees with the basic assessment that many who come to nunnery do so because of external circumstances. She notes, “unfortunately most women who enter nunhood are those who could not face the problems of secular life so they are by nature timid.” She feels that many women may temporarily wear the robes as a way of gaining merit. Additionally, it is an excellent way to learn about the Buddha’s teachings at a much deeper level. “A few of my schoolmates from wealthy families were put into nunneries every summer holidays as little nuns so that they would know more of Buddhism. They liked it apart from going back to school with shaved heads.” For those remaining in robes for life not out of economic or personal hardships, merit also plays a major role, according to U Sarana. “This is why their lifestyle revolves around religious activities, helping others, serving monks, etc.”

Burmese Buddhism: Vast, Brutal, Gentle, and Sticky

 By Miles Bukiet 

"Much of the Buddhist world has been crushed over the last century. The wake of devastation stretches across the Asian continent, a result of the Communists in Mongolia, Vietnam and Laos, the Cultural Revolution in China, and the ongoing ruthless occupation in Tibet. Even the countries spared violent political suppression have been assaulted by modernization and development. In Thailand, for example, economic growth has led to the wholesale destruction of the forests that once served as the ground of the Forest Tradition. Is there anywhere dharma is still at the root of things, where the people have been steeped in it for millennia, where the built environment reflects the devotion of a nation, where the spirit of the society is infused with the wisdom of the Triple Gem? 

Welcome to Myanmar. 

Many know of Myanmar as an incubator for the modern Vipassana movement, the home of Mahasi Sayadaw and the birthplace of S.N Goenka. Others know it as the base of the fabled Pa Auk monastery. These strands of teaching and practice lured me to Myanmar with their promise of fourteen hours of meditation a day, the strictness of their demands, and the fullness of their support. Wake up before dawn, keep your mouth shut, and sit through pain in exchange for a bed and a free lunch. This was the brutal no nonsense approach I sought. If this is what you seek, Myanmar won’t let you down. 

My own journey began last winter at Panditarama, a sprawling 100-acre campus still presided over by the indomitable Sayadaw U Pandita, a man who has been in robes for more then 80 years. Here the task is an unremitting focus on the moment-to-moment arising of phenomena. From 4:30am until at least 9:00pm you alternate sitting and walking meditation in one-hour blocks. There’s a ferocity to the approach here. It’s not about feeling good; it’s about relentless application of the technique, and hopefully over time a breakthrough to liberating insight.

Pa Auk has a similarly driven attitude although the focus is, at least in the early stages, narrowed to the breath and sitting meditation is prioritized. Its 500-acre campus inhabits a forested hillside with kutis spreading up steep pathways and extending deep into the jungle, making the scale almost impossible to grasp. These kutis house the monks, whose numbers sometimes swell to over 1000. Go to either Pa Auk or Panditarama and you will be assured a clean and comfortable lodging, abundant food twice daily and the expectation of rigorous practice.

I most likely would have stuck to this limited itinerary if it weren’t for a chance encounter with a man named Joah that would radically alter my trajectory. Neat, trim, fit, he carries a quiet calm matched by a fierce intensity of purpose. Two years ago a small group of foreign yogis at the Shwe Oo Min center north of Yangon met to exchange tips about where to study. Seeing that most of these yogis were new to the country and understood very little about the ins and outs of Burmese Buddhism and culture, Joah began gathering and collating information in order to deepen and enrich the experience of foreigners living and practicing in Myanmar. The project has since snowballed into an exhaustive and long overdue guide to Burmese Buddhism. This guide will become an immediate classic of indispensable value to anyone looking to experience the dharma first hand in Myanmar as well as for those with a more armchair style curiosity. But the book is about more then just satiating idle curiosity and facilitating the experience of foreign yogis. It’s a treasure trove of history and a chronicling of one of the richest extant cultural realms on this planet. It arrives at a time of radical change and will help to redefine what development and progress can mean, not only in Myanmar, but in Southeast Asia and the world at large.

The book is called Shwe Lan Ga Lay (Shwe Lan for short), which translates as The Golden Path. It contains a thumbnail sketch of hundreds of monasteries, practice centers, monuments, pagodas, shrines, and stupas across the country. It profiles dozens of Sayadaws, both contemporary and historical, and it contains information from interviews with Sayadaws, scholars, lay devotes, and seasoned foreign yogis. Much of this content has never before appeared in English, and some of it has never before been written down in any language whatsoever. The book has a section on Burmese culture and the ways to be respectful, focusing on common guffaws and cultural differences. It notes the practicalities of travel with information on transportation, health, food, and visas. It will even teach you how to ordain as a monk.

With dozens of artists donating original pieces, both professional and amateur photographers contributing photographs, and professional designers working to create a dynamic layout, it promises to pack a strong visual punch to match the hefty written portion. When Shwe Lan is completed Pariyatti, a non-profit devoted to disseminating the teachings of the Buddha, will publish it in a way that insures as broad a distribution as possible including freely available e-versions.

More impressive still, the entire document has been created exclusively by volunteers and a scanty few thousand dollars of dana (donations) to cover various costs. I was floored and struck with a powerful urge to lend a hand. Joah emailed me and another young American, Sam Hanft, a list of 25 places to scout in Yangon. For each place we were instructed to report back on the conditions, the food, the sleeping arrangements, the style of teaching, and the vibe. We were asked to iron out directions, cull anecdotes, interview Sayadaws, record relevant history, and take pictures.

The scale of the task begins to crush me as even finding the monasteries proves to be a maddening undertaking and a herculean test of patience. Hurled into Yangon, the pulsing hub of the emerging nation, I spend a sweaty confused week lost and stuck in traffic. Busted sidewalks, with potholes big enough to fall into, heave with swarms of people hawking cheap Chinese merchandise and local fruits. Several stories above the mayhem, trees grow through the cracks of the function over style concrete flats that dominate the downtown. A rooster sits on the top of a glass counter full of the latest model knock off smart-phones. This is the angsty epicenter of the nation set to set to become the newest democracy in Southeast Asia, set to increase its GDP ten fold in the next decade.

But despite all the hustle, and bustle, despite the promise of modernity, despite the smog, and despite the traffic, there is the palpable sense of a collective, expectant pause. On a balmy evening, wandering the streets of Yangon, a Burmese friend and a poet, quips to me “it’s like Godot around here, everyone’s waiting, but they don’t know what they’re waiting for.” Myanmar is poised to transform, but in the interim you’re still hard pressed to find internet or an ATM and you can still see an older, gentler way of life and practice of dharma. This poisedness lends a poignancy to all that I see, a sense that the world that’s unfolding in front of me, the world that Joah is eager to share, is open, but only for a moment. 

Even within the crowded downtown, each monastery is a universe unto itself. Aletawya Monastery is lost in time with decaying colonial relics interspersed with lush green foliage and hidden pagodas. Orange robes hang on lines as elderly monks move quietly about their business and cats bask in the sun. Dhamma Theidhi Kya Ung center is full of the charged youthful energy of hundreds of novices showering and running about. Smart new concrete school buildings stand proudly above the well-marked sports fields. The Mogok Headquarters occupies the sprawling former tax building. In the 1950’s this was a crucial center for the massive post war meditation boom, when tens of thousands took up the practice for the first time. Drenched in history it’s a Blade Runneresque maze of corridors and rooms, some filled with huge dusty machinery. Everywhere wires and pipes run this way and that. Dhamidaow Daya Dhukhidarma is an orderly and serene nunnery housing hundreds of well fed young women dressed in the classical hot pink robes. Some monasteries ooze a turgid energy with pudgy monks lazily lounging, chewing betel nut, the fast acting narcotic of choice in Myanmar, as packs of mangy dogs roam the grounds.

The continual refrain from the monasteries is: come stay, come practice, come learn. Everyone is ready to roll out another mat to sleep on, ready to set up another mosquito net to meditate under, ready to make room on the floor around one of the round tables laden with food. Whatever your style, whether it’s learning Burmese and studying Pali; practicing one of the many different types of meditation; or helping the young novices there’s somewhere to suit you. Shwe Lan will highlight this diversity of options opening dharma doors both within and beyond the formal practice of meditation. 

Something of both the relative and absolute scale of it all can be grasped by noting that Myanmar is a country with 53 million people and a whopping monastic population of over 500,000. Those 500,000 live off donations alone. Myanmar is one of the poorest nations in the world, and yet the society somehow manages, through extraordinary generosity, to unfailingly support its bulging monastic population. Much of this generosity comes in the form of a single spoonful of rice given daily. Indeed this generosity, and the faith and understanding that inspires it, is legendary. This spirit of giving has created a softening effect on the country, such that despite the poverty, and despite the political oppression there is an air of friendliness and safety. The people possess an unusual uprightness both physically and psychologically, and they have a remarkable brightness and warmth. Some of the money that flows into the monastic world is squandered on flat screens for the Sayadaws, vain building projects, and sluggish monks, but much of it is funneled towards education and authentic practice whose fruits radiate through the entire society.

Watching a long line of monks marching through the streets at dawn, large metal bowls held out expectantly, people bowing and filling them with all types of food, I wonder how long such generosity can last as Myanmar hurtles into the 21st century. Shwe Lan reminds us that change is not new to Myanmar, recounting the mighty kingdoms that have come and gone, the rise and fall of colonial rule, the passing of the World Wars, and the five decade long grip of a corrupt military regime. Somehow through it all the dharma has remained strong and relevant, often reinventing itself to do so. But the juggernaut of consumerist culture that is already descending on the land is something unprecedented. How the society galvanizes to protect what’s worthwhile in the culture, while also working towards valid development goals concerning health, sanitation, infrastructure, access to education, ending hunger, the alleviation of poverty, and protection of minority rights, will have effects far beyond the boundaries of the nation.

Although originally tasked with investigating particular monasteries, it seems Myanmar is so saturated with Buddhism that I can’t help but trip and fall over it everywhere I go. Riding on one of the busy highways I see a massive Buddha, perhaps dozens of stories high, rearing up from the flat lands visible through the haze like a mirage. “What’s that?” I ask the cab driver excitedly. He dishes back a deadpan shrug as though such things are so commonplace as to be forgettable. Trundling through the streets on one of the 1950’s wood floor buses, I look up and notice that above the driver the bus has its own shrine, with flowers, pictures, and a small statue. I soon discover this is nearly universally the case.

Stumbling upon the former residence of Aung San, the much-loved father of modern Myanmar, I learn that despite being both a general and a communist, he was also a devoted Buddhist. In a turret of his house I pause for a moment of meditation in front of the gold, oddly squat Buddha statue where the general sat quietly each morning in the last few years of his life. My spine tingles and, chills course up and down my body. There’s a palpable charge to this turret. It’s not only here. Almost daily I find places that provoke this peculiar energetic reaction. 

At night Shwedagon Pagoda, beaming over Yangon, beckons me to retreat north of the downtown. As the heat recedes and the crowds dissipate, I walk barefoot on the still warm marble, head craning up to see the 344ft golden spire stretching towards the heavens. The profound allure of gold, its austere and relentless beauty against a dark sky, captivates the eye. Listen carefully and you’ll hear the singing of the small brass wind chimes placed high on the monument. Lovers walk hand in hand and families picnic idly.

In Myanmar the romantic rarely comes without a reminder of the real as the nation grows up. A youth anxiously spins his smart phone in his hand as he talks in a jittery manner with his girlfriend. LEDs have been affixed behind many of the bronze Buddhas nestled at the foot of the pagoda and cheesy looking plaster statues have been added around the base. The true devotees don’t seem to mind, kneeling silently by the Buddhas in the various reliefs, the altars full of offerings, fruits, flowers, dried goods, incense. A time for prayer. A time to tune into something beyond time.

I’ve become lost in this strange timeless momentum and have taken a young Sayadaw named U Asabha, at his word to come and stay. On the outskirts of Yangon is a vast sprawling neighborhood known as South Dagon. Flat, dry, hot, poor, and dusty, its massive blocks stretch for miles, lined with rickety wooden houses packed close to one another. Small makeshift footbridges cross the open sewers that run alongside the bumpy dirt streets. Sayadaw U Asabha speaks impeccable English, and teaches in the Mogok style, a style that is barely known in the West, but with more then 700 major centers, represents the most practiced tradition in Myanmar today. He presides over Shwe War Win monastery on a small plot at the corner of one of the blocks.

He takes me with him everywhere. Day after day we wind through the neighborhoods in his Toyota 4Runner, his infatigueable driver spitting betel nut out the window, honking his way through pedestrian-choked streets. We’re off to lunches and breakfasts, Sayadaw U Asabha blesses the homes, the babies, the marriages, and gives dharma talks everywhere he goes. Each home, no matter how modest the family, provides an immaculate spread, of fruits, rice, tealeaf salad, fish, curries, tea, sweets, on and on. Rolling out low wooden tables to sit around, they take great joy in offering food to the monks and me.

At night we’re often driven to this or that neighborhood of Yangon for large public talks where many hundreds of people cram into a temple or onto the streets that have been closed off for the occasion. The Sayadaw’s normally cool temperament is here augmented by a ferocity that sweeps the crowds on a roller coaster from excitement to hushed silence and on into the rollicking laughter so typical of the Burmese people. When he leaves the organizers present him with piles of cash gathered from the attendees, shoeboxes or plus sized envelopes stuffed with kyat. As per monastic code he doesn’t touch any of it. Instead one of his lay supporters carries it faithfully back to the car. This will go towards the construction of his monastery and towards feeding and educating the monks and young novices under his care. Somehow in his spare time he manages to instruct me on the Theory of Dependent Origination, the central teaching of the Mogok tradition. He’s adamant that the link between vedana (feelings) and tanha (craving) is the crucial link that must be severed in the karmic cycle.

He takes me south with him to the bottom of Mon state for a retreat. We clunk along in the 4Runner for twelve hours on poor roads with four people to a three-person seat. The retreat is an assault on my senses as Burmese continuously blares through loud speakers across the monastery. But the dharma is between the cracks out here. A young man noting the awkward position I’ve ended up in takes me on his motor-bike on an impromptu tour around the state to see massive religious monuments and enormous forested monasteries supported miraculously by local farming communities. I get a glimpse of the vastness of the monastic network and gain a new respect for the power of a spoonful of rice. In the small “kitchen” a handful of middle-aged women with large smiles, a few immense woks, and a small pile of wood, crank out enough food to feed hundreds. They consistently come by and ask me “alright?”, “happy?”, “enough?”. I assure them “kaun deh,” Burmese for “it’s / I’m great.” 

Golden Rock Pagoda in Mon State

When it’s time to part ways with Sayadaw U Asabha a young man offers to take me to the bus stop and once there he buys me a ticket before I know what he’s doing. It’s only 5000 kyat, a few dollars, but for him it’s likely a week’s pay. To refuse would be obscene so I accept as graciously as I can. “Call me when you get to Pa Auk, it’s good place, it’s good thing you do, good luck.” He leaves me with these words and I leave with a heart bursting with the absurdity and the profundity of such a gesture. There’s a saying that when it comes to Theravada Buddhism: if you want the universities go to Sri Lanka, if you want to learn the Viniya go to Thailand, but if you want to practice, go to Myanmar. Everyone is relentlessly ready to help and is determined to support you in any way they can.

Before I leave Myanmar I head north to the Sagaing Hills, a place I had never heard of, but for a few words from Joah and the battered pages of printed notes from an advance copy of Shwe Lan. “It’s difficult to overstate the majesty and wonder of the Sagaing Hills. And for the yogi intent on Burmese Buddhist practice, there are few—if any—places that compare... with an estimated 1,000 monasteries and 200 nunneries—many of them consisting of just little more than a scant collection of buildings on a quiet hillside— and well over 15,000 in robes, it is a living, breathing Buddhist community almost unparalleled in the modern world.”

Further along in the Shwe Lan section is a quote from V. C. Scott O’Conner in Mandalay and Other Cities of the Past in Burma that seems as true today as it was one hundred plus years ago when he wrote it. “By far the most interesting part of Sagaing lies in the hilly country above it, where austere monks live; and every peak bears testimony to the piety of bygone kings and people…. The effect of the spectacle is enhanced, and lifted up to something strangely majestic, by the atmosphere, dry, prismatic, mystical— glorious with all the effulgence of Sagaing… One does not come upon sights like this out of Burma. There is some unconscious undercurrent of great qualities in the Burman personality that alone makes them possible.”

At a quiet monastery, tucked into a valley in the Hills, I stumble upon an old friend and a small gaggle of foreigners. I tell them a bit about the project and they nod. “Ohhh, just don’t tell them about these Hills” they giggle to themselves, wanting to keep Sagaing a secret. For a moment I falter. Perhaps they’re right. Maybe sharing these places will just spoil them, leave them overrun the same way the Lonely Planet often destroys the very places it highlights. Joah has already considered this, opting to craft the Sagaing section not as a traditional guide, but as a monument to the unknown and untold history of Sagaing and an open invitation to make your own path there… still I wonder.

But as I wander for days up and over and around the hills I begin to see just how embattled this ancient bastion is. Only a generation ago wild tigers roamed these Hills, today the towns on the edges steadily encroach on the habitat once reserved for these magnificent animals and the seekers brave enough to live alongside them. In the Hills once quiet forest paths have been paved and tractors blare as workers illegally mine rocks that will be crushed and made into cement. The historic Dat Ma Ku Kan Pond has been reduced to a puddle by a strangely dry year. On the peaks you can hear the speakers of the nearby towns blasting pop tunes. Myanmar is surrounded by nations eager to plunder it. It’s filled with people enthralled by the promises of material wealth and its climate, like that of the rest of the world, is becoming strangely unpredictable. It’s these forces that will radically reshape the monasteries and transform the character of the nation and not a few earnest seekers. It’s these changes that also lend an urgency to the completion of Shwe Lan and to the explorations it will engender.

I leave on a direct Air Asia flight from Mandalay to Bangkok, one of many such new connections that are facilitating Myanmar’s rapid transformation into just another cog in an increasingly monolithic global capitalist culture. The plush red and black pleather seats contrast sharply with the brown earthy hews of the Myanmar landscape fading beneath me. The tight-fitting uniforms, fake smiles, and menus where everything is for sale likewise contrast sharply with the modesty, authenticity, and generosity fading beneath me. As I sink back into the seat I begin to reflect that perhaps Myanmar doesn’t fade from you quite so quick as that. Maybe its got more of a sticky hard to rinse off quality.

I went to Myanmar hungry for a certain almost violent approach to practice, but in experiencing such practice delivered in impeccable form I began to navigate towards something else. Of course there can be enormous value in hardcore practice environments, but the dharma is not one size fits all and even an individual will need different things as he or she evolves over time. Myanmar seemed to effortlessly accommodate, perhaps even instigate, my own shifting orientation and turned out to be more diverse, gentle, and nuanced then I’d ever imagined. It swept me along in its current, delivering teachings on its own time and its own terms.

Like a pebble emerging from a river I feel a little smoother and softer around the edges. I fear that upon returning home I’ll effortlessly regain all my old prickly hardness, but this is far from fated. Despite what the dominant culture may encourage, culture is not a one-way street. Individuals create culture just as culture shapes individuals. At one point the dharma was new to Myanmar, carried slowly by pilgrims, seekers, and wise men from the Indian subcontinent. I’ll be taking home a burgeoning understanding of how these initial seeds of dharma can root and flower and grow into something of tremendous scale and multifaceted value. Tempering this awesome possibility, I’ve also seen how even mighty trees can be threatened by storms and disease. And alongside these grandiose conceptions of how radical large-scale social transformation emerges and declines, I’ll carry something on a much more intimate, and visceral level, a quiet twang in my chest reminding me of the deep worth and infectious quality of human kindness.

Hopefully the majesty, the grandeur, the mystery, the improbable scale of it all can be a reminder that the world still holds pockets of wonder and goodness. As we consider the people who make all this wonder possible, as we reflect on the relentless drive of Joah McGee, the welcoming embrace of Sayadaw U Asabha, the patient persistent contributions of peasants offering their daily spoonful of rice, and the monks and yogis battling to transform their minds we can settle back in these reminders of uprightness and benevolence, finding solace and warmth in their glow. We can also use these reminders as an edge to inspire us to dig deeper in summoning our own relentless drive, in conjuring our own warm embrace, in finding an arena for our own consistent contribution, and in waging our own inner battle."

To read Shwe Lan Ga Lay Part 1, go here.

About the author: Miles Bukiet has followed a consuming passion for yoga, bodywork, and meditation to India, Malaysia, China, Myanmar, Laos, and Thailand.

Miles Bukiet

"How is your food?" "Not bad. I’m a vegetarian.’”

In the Food chapter of the upcoming book Shwe Lan Ga Lay, we take a look at some of the great Burmese meditation teachers and monks who abstained from meat.

While Sayagyi U Ba Khin ate fish and fowl during this life, he did take a temporary vow to abstain entirely from meat from Sayadaw U Tejawontha at Shwe Mok Htaw Pagoda in Pathein in the 1930s for a time. In addition to ensuring that his International Meditation Centre kitchen served only vegetarian food, he also prohibited the use of all pesticides and insecticides on center land. Although Maha Gandayone Sayadaw U Janaka sometimes ate meat, he proclaimed to prefer a vegetarian diet. The venerable monk also provided this memorable commentary indicating such preferences: “On 14 December 1977 I had another medical check-up and they said: ‘All’s well.’ If one asks ‘How is your food’ I would say ‘Not bad. I’m a vegetarian.’”

There are other highly respected monks of the past who were known to subsist on only one portion of simple vegetarian food daily. And the tradition continues today, as two of the most venerated contemporary monks are vegetarian: Yaw Sayadaw, the eldest living Tipiṭakadhara whose Dhamma talks are attended by large numbers, and Pa Auk Sayadaw, one of the most popular and revered meditation teacher. Sayagyi U Goenka, who passed away in 2013, was also a lifelong vegetarian. In his case, however, this was not due to any Burmese or Buddhist reason, but rather his Hindu family background. In fact, U Goenka oversaw the “vegetarian line” during the 1954-56 Buddhist Synod held at Kaba Aye Pagoda.

Brahma Vihara in Pyin Oo Lwin

This center is overseen by Sayalay Dipankara, who began her own meditation practice while at a very young age, before receiving any instructions from a teacher. She studied Abhidhamma and learned samatha and vipassana from Pa Auk Sayadaw, ordaining as a nun in 1990. She became a meditation teacher shortly thereafter, and according to her website, can teach “any of the 40 Kamatthana as mentioned in the Visuddhi Magga e.g. Anapanasati, Four Elements Meditation, Metta, Buddhanussati, Asubha, Marananussati and 8 Samapatti (1st Jhana to 8th Jhana), Kasina, etc and the Vipassana Meditation.” Some of her dhamma talks have also been recorded and are available online for download. She speaks very good English, and foreign yogis who have learned under her are especially inspired by her example. One German nun noted that the teacher herself would wake up at 4 am to help cook for the entire center!
 
Saylay Dipankara’s meditation center may be more well-known among foreign yogis from Asian countries than in the West. While many nuns and laypeople practice here, monks are not allowed due to vinaya rules (i.e., they are not permitted to study meditation under the instruction of a woman), despite many who have wanted to attend. She regularly travels as well, conducting meditation retreats throughout Asia and the West.

Today, there is an annual course open for foreigners that usually lasts between 4-8 weeks, and one can register online (although they usually fill up within just a few days of being announced). More courses for foreign students may be held in the future, so those interested are encouraged to periodically visit her updated website. The center has a beautiful Dhamma Hall, and private bungalows for yogis.

The grounds themselves are quite lush, with wildflowers stretching across vast green lawns interspersed with pine trees. All the buildings are quite modern, and constructed in a Western style, some looking as though they were brought over from Europe.