Peaceful Easy Feeling

 

On a corner in a quiet suburb not far from me is a Buddist Temple, hidden by the palms, fruit trees and pinkish fence surrounding it. I walked up to the gate turned the nob only to find it locked and chains around the larger swinging gates. Through the gate I see a small man and a short haired chubby dachshund start approaching, both eyes locked on me. "We closed, open Sunday." he muttered in broken english. I took off my sunglasses, looked him in the eye and gave my best disappointed look. It worked. 

The small man gestured to a monk to open the swinging gate for me. I learned his name was Kon and along with his companion Happy the dachshund I was given the grand tour. 

Lead to the main temple for mediation I removed my shoes, left my belongings outside the door and stepped into peace. It was 5 seconds and tears were streaming down my face. In front of me was a singular Monk chanting, striking a bowl and linking everything in the room to sound. The sound of balance, of energy, of awe. 

The monk did not know I entered, he never wavered from his mediation and throaty tones. The occasional tone of the bowl he struck seemed to resettle the leaves blowing just outside the open door. I sat cried, eyes closed and hands folded until my bladder spoke louder then the monks voice. 

Kon was just out the door, showed me to the bathroom and then the grounds of the small temple. Kon moved from Vietnam 10 years ago sponsored by his brother. He was a caregiver until his retirement 3 years ago and now volunteers at the temple. As he walked, hands folded behind his back he described the distinct areas for worship. The bonsais, fruit trees, Koi ponds and temple spaces all cared for by himself and 5 monks that live on the property. 

In his broken english Kon told me about his own peace, how his soul is lighter when he is in that space. His eyes started to swell as he described his love of caregiving and his life as a duty to serve. I understood his message, touched his shoulder as he tried his best not to let his cheeks get wet. Somewhere deep inside Kon still has pain. I can only imagine his life before and his determination now to be at peace in this place. 

I was invited to Sunday service and lunch, given a large piece of fruit and a water bottle as we exited the sacred spaces. 

Kon lead my back to the swinging gate and I asked if I could hug him. He hesitated due to the language barrier so i gestured and repeated my request. The small man now with big teary eyes said "yes." I leaned in to hug him, letting out my own tearful sigh and leaving my sorrow as he closed the temple gate behind me. 

I hope you can find your peace on a random Tuesday on any given quiet suburb corner too.