TLDR: Friendship day through a Buddhist lens. Allen* reflects on his experience on the Buddhist version of friendship day known as Magha Puja where 1,250 monks gathered spontaneously 2,500 years ago.
*not his real name
An unexpected encounter in the fog of pollutants
During a brief exchange with Ajahn Achalo on the final day of our journey, he posed the question, “What are your impressions of the pilgrimage?” How does one respond?
Amidst the 400 Pollutant Standards Index (PSI) air, malfunctioning hotel heaters, and a longing for my pets, I found myself uttering to him, “It was almost life-changing”.
When I said that to Ajahn, my experience at Bamboo Grove came to mind, significant Buddhist milestones occurred at that site: The first generous donation of land to the Buddha and his Sangha; the first monastery where monks would gather and live together; and the first great gathering of the sangha, where the principal teaching, the Ovada Patimokkha was given.
Bamboo Grove vs Bodhi Tree
The Bamboo Grove was peaceful and quiet compared to the boisterous Bodhgaya, where you get triads of traditions gathering together to conduct their practice, most of them practising some form of an arms race of loudspeakers.
If the Buddha-to-be were to meditate under that same Bodhi Tree at Bodhgaya today, I doubt he would attain any form of awakening.
Standing amidst the serene Bamboo Grove, we found ourselves at the right place at the right time. It’s good to come with an experienced guide – Ajahn Achalo, a seasoned monk who has undertaken numerous pilgrimages to India in his unreasonable quest to complete 3,000 hours of meditation at sacred sites (he is already at 4,000 hours by the way).
Your predisposition will dictate whether it is a drawback or not, that he ceaselessly expects us to meditate at every site. And so we meditated.
A quiet appearance
After an hour of meditation, Ajahn signalled us to end our practice. I opened my eyes to the bright external reality, the whiteness from the marble floor reflecting the sunlight. There was another group facing us, quietly seated. The monks from our group offered flowers to the Buddha statue before us, then proceeded to greet the neighbouring group.
Curious, some of us went across to meet with the other group. Driven by a common Singaporean trait – “kiasu” or fear of missing out – I too, joined the group.
The neighbouring group was with Luang Por Thong Daeng. I sat near Luang Por while Ajahn had a cordial chat with him. Gradually, members from both groups began to intermingle. We bowed to Luang Por, while his entourage bowed to Ajahn.
Scrambling and gathering
While this was happening, some of my resourceful friends from the Dhamma Assembly for Young Working Adults (DAYWA) scrambled to find an offering for Luang Por. Despite the heavy 400 PSI pollution, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of reciprocal kindness and appreciation.
It was a beautiful scene, and I imagined how it might’ve been when the monks spontaneously gathered on that fateful night. Perhaps they too exchanged pleasantries or showed concern for each other. Perhaps they took the chance to share their practice.
Or perhaps, like us in that very moment, they simply sat in quiet companionship. At that moment, I felt a deep appreciation for the stories from the days gone by and felt how human the Buddha and his disciples were.
The honest bow of faith
After the warm exchange, I returned to our area to collect our mats and cushions. But a sudden urge to bow overwhelmed me. Feelings of reverence and gratitude took over me in a way that defied explanation. As I bowed to the Buddha statue, faith and energy surged, unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
Tears flowed as my head touched the earth. “Let them flow”, I thought to myself. I didn’t want to mask them with masculinity – I was rarely manly anyway.
Words cannot fully capture this profound experience. The unexpected encounter, with its remarkable resemblance to the story surrounding the Ovada Patimokkha, inspired me to deeply recollect the qualities of the Awakened One, to embrace the Dhamma, and to venerate the Sangha with immense gratitude in that single moment. Even now, recounting it gives me the goosebumps. How I wish you were there to share the experience!
Rethinking and reviewing what faith means
Faith is quite an enigmatic thing. Given my previous monotheistic, then skeptical atheistic background, I never would have expected myself to express faith in this manner. However, as I gradually tested various Buddhist hypotheses, it seems these little streams of tested faith gathered with gravity, and formed a whole body of evidence that ebbs and overflows into something deeply personal.
Thanks for allowing me to share this experience with you. If this piece was too “feely”, and you have a more skeptical and inquisitive mind, you may find this piece on my journey with doubt and faith more relatable. Until next time, keep the faith.
NB: So I told Ajahn Achalo that the trip was “almost life-changing”, but looking back, perhaps I broke the 4th precept. It was truly life-changing.
Wise steps:
Learn and familiarise ourselves with stories from the Buddha’s time to understand the context of the teachings.
It creates the conditions for us to develop a deeper appreciation of the Dhamma, by allowing us to put ourselves in the shoes of the characters in the suttas
TLDR: A dear fellow pilgrim reflects on their personal struggle with discernment amidst encountering (possibly) fake monks, inspiring one to uphold the precepts and finding courage to stick to them. Meanwhile, Ezra shares his challenges with maintaining mindfulness outside of the cushion, providing tips on improving one’s practice through the use of small changes in habit, practiced frequently. Wilson overcomes doubts through his teary experiences, and found inspiration in the Buddha’s determination and shared journey with spiritual friends. Read on to learn more about their deeply personal and unique encounters!
I am back with the third and final narrative of this three-part series into our fellow friends’ pilgrimage journey. Join me as we continue our exploration and discover the importance of morality, mental cultivation and faith. Each pilgrim’s encounter reflects a unique aspect of their own spiritual path, providing insights into their personal challenges and struggles along the way as they triumph their way to Nibbana.
Śīla (morality) by Anon.
One of the things that plagued me in the first few days of the trip occurred when we were at the Mahabodhi temple. Fake monks seem to be quite common, and visitors are often warned about them. I ignored every single monk handing out leaves from the bodhi tree while I circumambulated the temple. Yet, after hearing stories of fellow pilgrims being given bodhi leaves without being asked for anything in return – I started wondering and felt bad that I may have turned down someone’s good intentions!
A part of me knew that these monks were probably fake, but indecision (about my judgment) remained. I wonder if this indecision and lack of discernment resulted from being in a work environment where truths are concealed and lying is commonplace.
When it comes to the Five Precepts, I struggle with the fourth: abstaining from false speech. This is especially the case at work, where lying seems to be commonplace, or even expected from all parties involved during negotiations. There was even a time when I was told by someone senior, “Everybody lies – there is no one that doesn’t lie.” (Something which I disagreed with – because I see examples of well-practised monastics who are impeccable in conduct, and kalyāṇa-mittas(spiritual friends) who are doing their best to uphold the precepts, even though we tend to slip back into our habitual tendencies.)
I thought about how my mind was during the visit to the Mahabodhi temple seemed muddled and confused. I compared this to the time where I had attended a retreat, observed noble silence, and undertook the 8 precepts – my mind felt very clear and free from hindrances. At the same time, I wondered how disastrous it would be if one day I undiscerningly accepted any false teachings I encountered. (Today it may be fake monks giving bodhi leaves, but in future, it could be a Buddhist cult!)
Due to the reflections resulting from the (possibly) fake monks – one of the aspirations I had made during the pilgrimage was to upkeep the five precepts to the best of my ability, even in situations where it may be difficult or require extra courage to do so.
Another inspiration I had from the trip was visiting the spot where King Bimbisara’s jail cell had been in the past. He was said to have renounced his kingdom so that his son Ajatasattu could rule peacefully. Commentaries point to King Bimbisara choosing the place of his jail cell in a spot where he could see the Buddha pass by during his daily walks up the Griddhakuta hill where he meditated.
I thought this was such an inspiration – a king giving up all his material wealth, following the teachings and being non-violent even in the most oppressive situation – with his only wish being to have a spot where he could see the Buddha.
The location of King Bimbisara’s jail cell. Regrettably, the weather was not the best, so we had limited visibility and weren’t able to see Vulture’s peak. I hope King Bimbisara had better weather conditions than us!
This made me reflect on some of the situations that I find myself in, and the courage required to stick to my principles. While these training principles and precepts are difficult to follow, (and I regrettably will lapse sometimes), I hope I can find the courage and the determination to continue following them.
“Mendicants, there are these three grounds for making merit. What three? Giving (dāna), ethical conduct (sīla), and meditation (bhāvanā) are all grounds for making merit.”–AN 8.36
The Pali word bhāvanā literally means development or cultivation. This word is used in early Buddhist texts to describe “activities related to the development of the mind”. When we speak of mental cultivation in the Buddhist context, we tend to refer to mindfulness (sati) and samādhi, which is often translated as “concentration” but it is accurate to term it as a “collected stillness” that arises naturally with certain conditions rather than the everyday meaning of concentration and focus.
Like many of us, I struggle with maintaining sati and samādhi in daily life. Our minds tend to get caught up in various things in our busy lives. Wanting or rejecting something or some situation, wanting someone to do or not to do something, … etc. There’s always some desire clamouring for attention in our head.
A good way to see what we are caught up with is to periodically check the quality of our mind and observe which hindrance (see table below! ) is affecting us and what is the cause, then ask ourselves is it worth holding onto the cause of the hindrance so strongly.
The truth is – there will always be dissatisfaction and even suffering from time to time unless (and until) we are enlightened, and very often the dissatisfaction and suffering we experience are caused by ourselves!
I guess for most of us, it takes some effort to meditate daily, or even to put aside time to sit and meditate. This is one of the main challenges in my practice. Like many of my friends, my meditation quality was good during the pilgrimage, but not so good or consistent in daily life.
We are all creatures of habit and it can make a huge difference to our practice. One of the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People is Begin With the End in Mind:
Habit 2: Begin With the End in Mind is based on imagination—the ability to envision in your mind what you cannot at present see with your eyes. It is based on the principle that all things are created twice. There is a mental (first) creation and a physical (second) creation. The physical creation follows the mental, just as a building follows a blueprint.
James Clear in his book Atomic Habits recommends a framework to develop good habits and break bad habits:
“Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become. No single instance will transform your beliefs, but as the votes build up, so does the evidence of your new identity. This is one reason why meaningful change does not require radical change. Small habits can make a meaningful difference by providing evidence of a new identity. And if a change is meaningful, it is actually big. That’s the paradox of making small improvements.”
We can start building sati with small changes such as not using personal devices during meal times and on our daily commute. Shift attention to our breathing and keep it there.
When stray thoughts arise ask yourself if they are helpful to your practice, if not then let them go and come back to the breath. Over time we can also develop and maintain mindfulness while walking, talking, eating, cleaning, using the toilet, watching shows etc.
When we have some sati, samādhi arrives much more easily. The same small changes can be applied to building samādhi as well, such as sitting on the bed to meditate for a while after waking up, having a meditation break after lunch, and setting aside time to meditate after the day’s work is done. Even five minutes makes a difference!
When mindfulness and meditation are practised diligently, the quality of our minds changes. A subtle and steady peace would arise that releases and protects the mind from pain and suffering.
One thing to take note is that while mundane self-help tools can be beneficial to set a direction for our practice, we may need to tweak them for spiritual use. For instance, identity-based habits can be helpful but they must be applied with wisdom. These quotes should help to shed some light:
We practice to abandon “having” things or “being” anything at all. We don’t practice to “get” or to “be” a sotāpanna, sakadāgāmi, anāgāmi or arahant. – Ajahn Anan
but
We must forgive ourselves, love ourselves, and wish ourselves happiness. In other words, we must have a small, happy and healthy sense of self that will walk the path of non-self. This is very important. Otherwise, our self will not be able to walk on the path. – Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo
Following this understanding where our inner world determines our outer behaviour, we should also bear in mind that one of the most important aspects of bhāvanā is letting go.
When the mind isn’t pulling, pushing or holding onto anything we can experience pure bliss and happiness which is not something that the mundane world can provide. That being said, it is not feasible to let go of everything at once and letting go tends to be more effective as a gradual process.
During the pilgrimage, A complicated personal experience occurred at the ruins of Nalanda and my mind was weighed down thereafter.
Fortunately, the help of some friends and wise words to “focus on the dhamma, not the drama” helped me to let go and I had a deep meditation experience at the Bodhi Tree.
We must learn to accept that life will never be smooth sailing all the time. When we start to see for ourselves that our mundane desires and conditions are innately impermanent, dissatisfactory, and non-self, we develop wisdom that delivers us from suffering.
Finally, here are some helpful resources on how to let go of:
The Pali word “Saddhā” (the first of the five spiritual faculties) can be translated as “faith” or “confidence”. A friend who had gone on pilgrimage before told me that going on a pilgrimage can deepen one’s faith. Immediately my mind went, “Really meh?
I mean even if these are the actual places where the Buddha practised, gained enlightenment and taught at, it’s been thousands of years already leh. So many people have come and gone and probably destroyed what was there to start with. How special can they be?”
This thought brought the realisation that I had doubts about some aspects of Buddhism, especially parts that were unverifiable by contemporary science. Studying science for decades and thereafter teaching science has shaped how I see the world and what I chose to believe in.
On matters like kamma and rebirth, I have taken the approach of putting my doubt on hold as I continue to practise.
The discerning reader might anticipate that I would write next about a drastic change of mind, just like those cheesy plotlines replete in dramas and movies. Aaaaaand congratulations, you are absolutely right!
Moreover, the places we visited that resulted in my change of heart were caves in two different hills, with dreamy feelings from the fog that descends early in the morning. Also present were picturesque spots to drum some sense into the sceptical protagonist.
A sense of deep inspiration and respect washed over me as I stepped into the cave on Dungeshwari Hills in Gaya, where Siddhartha Gautama spent six years meditating and practising extreme asceticism before he became the Buddha. Due to his extreme starvation, he described how the skin of his belly stuck to his backbone.
The sight of the emaciated Buddha statue brought tears to my eyes as I was in awe of the Buddha’s determination to find the ultimate truth.
The extent to which he endured to arrive at the wisdom of the Middle Way, avoiding self-mortification or sensual indulgence.
On Day five, we climbed up Griddhakuta Hill in Rajgir, also popularly known as Vulture’s Peak. As I sat in meditation in the cave belonging to Venerable Maha-Moggallāna, alongside my friends, the peace and stillness that arose allowed me to appreciate an alternative perspective of the sheer number of pilgrims coming to these holy sites.
In the 2500 years after the Buddha’s parinibbāna, countless people went on pilgrimage to where the Buddha lived and taught, sometimes even risking their lives to do so, especially in ancient times. It is exactly because of these practitioners who demonstrated their faith and determination and painstakingly left records to show us the way.
Moreover, we embarked on this journey together with other pilgrims, coming from different backgrounds, each having our unique stories, forming part of the generations of nameless pilgrims.
Despite our differences, we share this affinity of pursuing the same Noble Eightfold Path.
This shared purpose of ours is not diluted by time, space or the number of pilgrims; conversely, walking along the same paths as those who have come before us and many who will do so in future serves as a source of inspiration for us all to practise.
Witnessing the effects of practising the Noble Eightfold Path on me and the people around me on the pilgrimage gives me confidence in the Buddha, his teachings and the noble practitioners who live out the teachings.
Lastly, I feel immensely blessed to have gone on this pilgrimage with my spiritual friends with the guidance of a wise teacher and support from kind tour guides.
I have this feeling that we made aspirations to practise and support one another in our past lives and the merits we accumulated brought us on this beautiful journey together again.
I look forward to continuing this journey with them in future lives, if conditions permit.
Till nibbāna do us part.
Conclusion
The narratives of Sila, Bhavana and Saddha reflected by my fellow spiritual friends’ pilgrimage experiences illuminate the diverse facets of their personal spiritual practices and their quest for enlightenment. Through their sharing about morality, mental cultivation and faith, these pilgrims inspire us to navigate our paths with courage, clarity and unwavering patient endurance.
As we bid farewell to this pilgrimage journey that we shared, may our experiences continue to guide and inspire each of us (and you!) in our own paths towards inner peace and liberation. Through mindfulness, moral integrity, and faith, may we navigate the complexities of life with greater clarity, compassion, and purpose. It’s important to remember that these experiences are deeply personal and that each of us embarks on our unique journey into spiritual paths.
While these stories inspire, readers should not expect the exact same experiences on their own pilgrimages but rather embrace their individual journeys with openness and curiosity.
As the pilgrimage comes to an end, we cherish the bonds forged, the wisdom gained and the bittersweet realisation that we have to strive with determination to bring ourselves closer to inner peace and enlightenment.
Wise Steps:
1.Cultivate Mindfulness in Daily Life: Consider Ezra Tay’s tips in the practice of Bhāvanā (mental cultivation) and integrate mindfulness practices into your daily routine. Start with small changes like setting aside dedicated time for meditation, practising mindfulness during routine activities such as eating or commuting, and periodically checking the quality of your mind to identify and address mental hindrances.
2.Uphold Moral Integrity: Make a commitment to uphold moral integrity even in challenging situations. Reflect on the five precepts of Buddhism and strive to maintain them to the best of your ability, especially in environments where dishonesty or unethical behaviour may be prevalent.
3.Strengthen Faith Through Experience: Consider the experiences of Wilson Ng’s journey of Saddha (faith)and deepen your faith through direct experience. Explore spiritual practices, visit sacred sites if possible, and surround yourself with supportive spiritual friends. Reflect on the teachings of Buddhism and observe how they manifest in your life, allowing your faith to grow organically through personal insights and experiences.
TLDR: In the second part of our pilgrimage series, Tate Aung acquires a symbol, a wooden Buddha rupa. She experiences a pivotal moment of renunciation by giving away a prized possession, exemplifying the importance of relinquishing attachments for spiritual growth. Next, Angela Tan’s contemplation on death during a Ganges River cruise in Varanasi leads to profound insights on life’s impermanence and the cultivation of of virtues in pursuit of liberation.
Going on a pilgrimage often brings us to some unexpected realisations and experiences. In this second instalment of our three-part pilgrimage series, we delve into two reflections by two fellow pilgrims, Tate Aung and Angela Tan as they navigate the paths of renunciation (Nekkhamma) and death contemplation (Maranasati) amidst the sacred landscapes of India.
From the pursuit of generosity to contemplating life’s impermanence, their narratives offer some poignant insights into the essence of spiritual growth and the pursuit of enlightenment.
Nekkhamma by Tate Aung
In the serene setting of Rajgir, a town in the district of Nalanda in Bihar, India, I made a significant acquisition – a beautifully carved wooden rupa made of wood from the sacred Bodhi Tree.
This rupa of Lord Buddha in his most austere state of renunciation was to me a symbolic reminder of the suffering the Buddha felt, along with his unwavering determination on his path to enlightenment. Reflecting on my disposition, characterised by what I perceive as a lack of Viriya (effort) and a tendency to procrastinate, I had wanted to place this rupa in my home as a stark reminder to infuse more effort into both my spiritual practice and work life.
The journey of this rupa did not end with its purchase. I carried it to the Mahabodhi Temple in Bodhgaya, where it received blessings at the Buddha Metta statue.
It then further continued at the deer park in Sarnath where the Buddha first proclaimed the Dhamma to the world.
While our group circumambulated with the rupa around the stupa (commemorative monument)at the deer park, the recited teachings of the Dhammacakkhapavathana Sutta and the Anatta-lakhana Sutta from ~2500 years ago echoed in the air. I would think that layers of blessings were bestowed upon the wooden rupa.
I had brought along another rupa on the trip to the deer park to offer to Kruba Joe, a monk accompanying us on this pilgrimage. However, while everyone was meditating, I became quite distracted and was in a deep dilemma on what to do when I saw that the rupa intended for Kruba Joe had a small crack at the back.
As good as my intention was to give it away, I could not unsee the crack on the rupa’s back and thought how “less-than-beautiful” it was when compared to the other rupas gifted to the other monks who were around.
Right then, I recalled the goodness of my dear kalyāṇa-mitta(spiritual friend), Kaylee, who previously gave a singing bowl to Phra Danny (despite her initial desire to keep it for herself…)
Inspired by her example, I too decided to give away the “ultra-blessed” Austere Buddha rupa intended for myself to Kruba Joe. Honest to Buddha, the Austere Buddha rupa not only had very good craftsmanship but also cost twice as much, hence I did feel the pinch and was quite unwilling to part with the rupa, and more so, the blessings associated with the rupa.
Oftentimes, most of us only give away things we don’t need, and things we don’t find difficult to give away.
You could say that I was delighting in the pleasant sense-object like the rupa, and growing a dangerous attachment to it that could cause me some suffering over it in the future.
Hence, the act of giving away a prized possession became an expression of renunciation, serving as a reminder to not only give away what is easy but to part with what is most difficult (which includes renouncing our defilements).
On the topic of renouncing our defilements, while I was at Rajkir, Bihar (prior to reaching Uttar Pradesh), I had indicated to my dear kalyāṇa-mittas(spiritual friends) that yes, I would be taking the Eight Precepts, and hence would not be eating after 12:30pm.
Yet, the allure of an exquisite buffet upon arrival at our hotel in Uttar Pradesh tested my commitment. Succumbing to temptation, I found myself on the brink of breaking my precepts during this pilgrimage. In a moment of intervention, a wise kalyāṇa-mitta, Heng Xuan, gently told me off by mentioning that “..breaking your precepts is very bad kamma…. you said you were going to take 8 precepts”. He also said something along the lines that it was bad for my “Sacca Parami” (transcendent virtue of truthfulness) too.
That stopped me in my tracks.
This timely piece of advice halted my wavering, and I chose to recommit to the precepts, a decision we celebrated as a team, captured in a joyful photo with the entire DAYWA group observing the eighth precept successfully.
The conscious and intentional act of stepping away from temptations which lead us astray from our commitments is a powerful act of renunciation.
Pana time for eight preceptors
In essence, this entire pilgrimage served as a powerful reminder that every action we undertake is a fuel for our Parami (Virtues). The habit to renounce not just material possessions but also our inner defilements, such as tanha (craving), becomes crucial in propelling us forward on the raft towards the shores of Nibbana.
Maranasati (death contemplation) by Angela Tan
Witnessing the four sights of ageing, sickness, death and an ascetic, the Buddha sought a way out of suffering. On this pilgrimage, the sight of death (through viewing cremations happening right before our eyes) was a particularly impactful one.
Burning Ghats
After days of meditation and visiting holy sites, we were treated to a cultural experience; a cruise on the Ganges – one of the most sacred rivers in the world.
Prior to boarding the Ganges cruise, we learnt that some Hindus believe that people who die in the city of Varanasi can achieve moksha (liberation). As part of their death rituals, some Hindus cremate their deceased relatives at a famous ghat (defined as: a level place on the edge of a river where Hindus cremate their dead.) Then, their ashes are put into the Ganges river where some Hindus believe that the deceased can reunite with their god Shiva.
As we boarded the cruise and headed for the famous cremation ghat, I could not help but anticipate sadness. I carried with me some preconceived notions of death – in Chinese culture, death rituals are often associated with a sombre sense of loss and heavy feelings.
Upon disembarking near the cremation ground, my eyes were indeed filled with tears – from the fumes of five recently deceased bodies burning all at once! When my watery eyes cleared, I saw family members of the deceased surrounding the fire, looking at ease with where they were and what they were doing. It was nothing like what I expected. There were no tears, no wailing, an absence of distress.
On the contrary, there was a sense of acceptance. And I was not the only one who felt this. Later on the way back to our evening rest, other pilgrims shared the same sentiments too. Death, to the Hindus, is a natural part of life. This is part of the notion of “Right View” expounded by the Buddha.
This experience led me to reflect that no matter your situation, whether you are rich or poor, happy or upset, sick or healthy, death is inevitable. It is a short sprint between life and death.
What matters most is to continually do good, give generously, learn earnestly, forgive steadfastly and patiently cultivate.
The next day, contemplating this experience about death allowed me to have a joyful meditation session. I was able to disengage from my ever-planning mind and enjoy the present moment, one breath at a time. Having returned from the pilgrimage, I continue to practise death contemplation whenever I walk past funeral services.
Conclusion
As we draw the curtain on this chapter of contemplation and revelation, both Tate’s and Angela’s stories shed light on the intricate journey of spiritual growth while seeking enlightenment. From Tate’s journey of renunciation, marked by the relinquishment of material attachments to Angela’s profound contemplation on death and impermanence, their encounters remind us of the transient nature of existence and the urgency to cultivate good virtues that aid us to liberation.
May their insights inspire us to be more determined in our spiritual practices, guided by the light of wisdom and the aspiration for Ultimate Happiness and freedom.
Wise Steps:
1. Reflect on material (or mental) attachments: Take time to identify attachments to material objects and contemplate the possibility of letting them go for a better cause, understanding that renunciation can lead to spiritual growth and a lessening of our attachments . The same could apply to our mental attachments – to objects, experiences, views and perspectives.
2.Embrace impermanence (anicca): Contemplate on death regularly to cultivate our acceptance of life’s transient nature and prioritise actions that contribute to spiritual development and well-being. Regular reminders on impermanence also provide us with a sense of urgency to practice.
Ghost Month Series: This series explores different angles of the 7th Lunar Month, also known as the Ghost Month. Festivals, Cultures, and Religions often mix together in one place, offering space for different interpretations. We, like you, are keen to explore more. Discern what is helpful to your practice and discard whatever is not.
TLDR: The encounters with an unseen being leads to a reflection on human nature and how we relate to other beings in Buddhist cosmology.
One Fateful Night
At barely 6.30pm, the women’s compound of Wat Boonyawad was almost pitch dark within the forest. I hastened my footsteps after finishing walking meditation near the main gate – tempo accelerando. There was no one else. In that solitude, I wished someone was with me — just not the unseen sort, whatever it wanted with me.
My torch was barely strong enough to see beyond one metre from my feet. Leaves crunched beneath me, like in The Slender Man.
Near my kuti (small practitioner’s hut) after I had washed my feet, leaves rustled and a breezy presence weaved through the surrounding forest. Yet, my skin pricked with heat. Panicking, I ran up the steps to the door.
Meeting the Ghost of my Mind
I fumbled for the key, with the torch gripped in between my teeth. Jaws tightened. The fear of being caught up by a menacing force crescendoed as each attempt to slot the key into the lock pad failed. Mosquitoes hummed impatiently beside my ears. Quick. Quick.
Finally, the lock turned and I slammed the door tightly behind me. All that hooting and howling from the forest grew claustrophobic; their sources unbeknownst to me. The forest has its ways to play tricks on the mind. This meditation retreat was my first ever to stay alone in a forest hut within a Thai monastery. So much unknown to fear for.
The relief of getting into the kuti (meditation hut) did not last, I hurried to the little altar to light up the candles, the heart-throbbing at my throat.
Buddha, help me. Bow. Dhamma, help me. Bow. Ajahns, help me. Bow. The candles flickered in the twilight.
I inched my way to unwind the huge windows for ventilation; my eyes averting the ominous world outside. What if a ghastly face stared back at me? At that thought, my hair stood on its ends as a chill ran down the spine. Spinning out of the sensation, I plunged to the floor into a half-lotus position for sitting meditation.
Buddho buddho buddho.
Buddho buddho.
Buddho.
Bud-dho.
Bud-dho.
Bud–dho.
Bud—-dho.
When hyperventilation evolved into a smoother and more refined breath, I saw clearly all that fear about ghosts was merely the sensitive mind misdirecting its alertness. I believed in ghosts’ presence within Buddhist cosmology.
At that time, I also assumed their nature to seek me out in avenging my past karmic misdeeds and sucking my energy dry with evil trances.
That such a hateful encounter was bound to happen kept my heart from sinking into the peace. It wasn’t the forest that was playing tricks. My defiled mind was the culprit puppeteer, pulling strings on a ghost puppet.
The First Encounter
No, I would not let that made-up ghost rob me of the peace that can develop from retreating thousands of miles away from home. The fear mis-manufactured from baseless perceptions and thoughts can stay.But I did not wish to indulge its willfulness, despite not understanding it fully.
With that determination to set aside fear, the heart finally found its resting spot in even more refined breaths: a clear quiet space opened up within my mind. The candles at the altar had gone out by then. The nocturne calls of animals were distant. This was one of the rare peaceful moments in the retreat, truly. A deep state of focus, tranquil, alert.
Soon, a face showed itself in my mind’s eyes. No vengeful entrance — gradual, weightless.
Just a head dripping in blood, rotten flesh, long hair; her round bloodshot eyes stared into me. The body trailed off. A very… sorry plight; nothing threatening.
I couldn’t explain how I knew this presence to be true but I did. The fear that I experienced earlier did not arise again. No goosebumps. No chills. I steadied the mind on the being, looking right back. I did not wish her away, neither did she seem to want to go away. Not yet.
Here, memories of reading Mae Chee Kaew’s biography where she communicated to ghosts using her heart surfaced within my mind. I was definitely not Mae Chee Kaew, but maybe I could try communicating to the ghost too.
What do you need from me? What is helpful for you?
Share merits. You have been practising the Dhamma.
I will wish you well. Hope you can receive them.
Eyes shut tight still. My heart turned inwards further and channel whatever wholesome bits it could find towards the being in front:
May you receive all the blessings from the goodness I had cultivated since the start of my life. May you have the merits you need for a fortunate rebirth. May you seek safety and refuge in the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha. May you be free from all sorts of suffering in the future. May you be well and happy.
These phrases repeated in my mind like a playlist on loop, religiously as if my life–her life–depended on them. The sphere of goodwill (metta) radiated outwards to imbue her presence within it. Not long after a few cycles, the unseen being took her leave –gently, gradually, lightly–much like how she appeared but with more ease. The meditation came to an end too.
Do I know you? I wanted to ask but I didn’t. A sense of familiarity lingered, although I could not quite put a finger to it.
Moonlight shone through the canopy; their piercing beams reflected off the forest floor, lighting up the pitch dark from before. I took three candles outside, keen to place them along the earthen path for walking meditation. Finally, I was brave enough to venture out after nightfall. Before this night, moonlit walking meditation was completely unfathomable.
Affinity Knows no Boundaries
In my subsequent stays at various forest monasteries, trips to Kuala Lumpur, even at home, when I was alone in meditation and there were particular still moments of clarity at night, unseen beings of similar profiles would appear in my meditation. Each time, they asked for merits. Each time, I tried to maintain my compassion to share merits. Afterwards, they would leave quietly.
The restless mind was still afraid of the dark and jumpscares, but the fear was more manageable than the very first encounter.
These encounters were at least half a year apart so I thought that the beings were different individuals.
It was not until my India pilgrimage that I realised a trend.
Final Encounter in Pilgrimage
The hotel we stayed in at Vesali was haunted. According to Thai Forest Venerable Luang Por Piak, tens of thousands of hungry ghosts hung around the hotel. At the worst of my cough, I felt nauseous on the first night, after returning from a day of breakdowns. A Thai female doctor with the tour suggested treating me with acupuncture, which I desperately accepted. Anything to get me out of that bodily hell.
Moments after the acupuncture began, I slipped into unconsciousness while I was trying very much to be mindful of the needles. Soon, I fainted on my bed.
That night, I woke to a persistent furious hammering on the windows. Calling out to my Thai roommate from my crippling fear of angry ghosts, I hid under the covers, still weak from earlier. She went up to check the curtains and found monkeys. Nothing to be afraid of. Go back to sleep. How? I could barely feel safe.
On the second evening in Vesali, a second acupuncture session occurred in another hotel room, in which its inhabitants complained of paranormal activities from the night before. Despite the crowd receiving treatment, I caught a waft of ‘off-energy’. While sitting in meditation at a dimly lit corner, the mind gathered into stillness.
Soon enough, a familiar image of a bloody head and wispy long black hair came into view – the same request ensued.
This time I finally recognised her although she was hovering at the corner. An insight struck: this was the very same unseen being who sought my attention at Wat Boonyawad and thereafter.
She had followed me to India! She had been following me all this while! In sharing merits, I recollected about the wholesomeness from visiting the key Buddhist holy sites thus far and wished her to rejoice in the rare occasions arising from that pilgrimage. That night, I slept soundly.
At the last stop of the pilgrimage – Varanasi, my tour group disclosed that my Thai roommate (gifted with supernatural vision) had seen a ghost sitting on my bed that very night in Vesali. That was definitely goosebumps-inducing. Rounding up the trip at a final chanting session in Deer’s Park, I made a determination to dedicate all the merits from the pilgrimage to the unseen being.
Since then, she has not visited me in meditation. I would like to think that she has gathered sufficient merits to be reborn in a better place.
How Can We Live Better in this Cosmic World?
My unseen encounters left a lasting effect on my practice. They taught me to face my fear of darkness and to respect the presence of unseen beings. Now, I make a point to share merits every morning chanting and when I offer meal dana to monks. Sharing merits help to cultivate generosity in the immaterial world.
I have not mentioned the unseen encounters to my spiritual friends openly, for fear of coming across as boastful. The intention of sharing my encounters here is to help readers reflect that there are deprived states, where unseen beings exist in our cosmic world.
They exist out of their attachments and/or hatred to this material world, which they were not able to relinquish upon their death as humans.
(While I have not met malicious beings, I have heard stories of where ghosts have party hangouts in rooms for extended periods.)
Reflecting on the deprived states of ghosts, can we then work on our attachments, anger and hatred in this human life?
Perhaps, as much as I have encountered the manifestations of an unseen being, the visualization mirrored the hatred contained within my heart. Using the same Dhammic approach of awareness and acceptance, I can introspect on what the heart needs and what is beneficial for it. Then, apply the balm of loving-kindness and compassion.
To the being and myself: wherever you may be, I wish you well and hope you benefit from the Buddha’s dispensation, always.
Wise Steps:
Casper the friendly ghost is not untrue — ghosts primarily want sharing of merits when they manifest to you.
If you encountered ghosts as malicious, share even more merits. Done from a mind of pure generosity, offering a Sangha Dana can generate merits for unseen beings who could receive them for long-term welfare and fortunate rebirth.
With compassion towards the deprivation ghosts exist in, we may contemplate our strong attachments and begin to let go of the hatred we experience within our hearts.
