It was 5:57 am. I stared at the screen, mouse hovering over the “refresh” button. Only 3 minutes until registration opens. I took a deep breath at 5:59, then, as the clock turned to 6:00, hit “refresh” to reveal the sign-up link. Click, type, click, click, lurch of the heart as the page loads…
I was in! In three months, I will head to the other side of the world – Perth, Australia – for a retreat with the Thai Forest monk Ajahn Brahm.
(By 6:03, the retreat was sold out. Whew!)
Ajahn Brahm, student of the great Thai Forest master Ajahn Chah, was a constant companion on my isolated workdays during the pandemic. His Dhamma talk videos on YouTube date back more than a decade, and whether a talk is named “Enlightenment,” “Facing Difficult Situations in Life,” or “Relax! Everything is out of control,” you can expect a big dose of humor and fresh, kind-hearted perspectives on life and spiritual practice. At a certain point, after listening to so many talks that the jokes and stories started to repeat, I realized that I wasn’t just listening for the words. I was listening for the qualities of positivity, kindness, and generosity in Ajahn Brahm’s voice. As I learned more about the jhanas, I also felt increasingly drawn to the way Ajahn Brahm emphasizes letting go in his meditation instructions.
It has been about six months since my trip to Perth, Australia, for the retreat. Reflecting on the experience now, the teaching that made the biggest impression on me was the spirit of generosity: emanating from Ajahn Brahm, of course, but also from his students at the retreat center.
On my first day there, I walked with a few other retreatants to Bodhiyana Monastery to participate in the almsround. There were already many lay people standing outside the dining hall, each holding a plate of rice to be offered to the monks, chatting and idly waving off flies. I was fascinated with the leaf-green parrots that hobbled about, hoping for someone to be careless with their food. They must be a common bird in this area, but so new and exciting to me, who has just set foot on this continent for the first time a few hours ago. (Later I learned that they were called Australian Ringnecks 🙂)
We formed a line when the monks and nuns showed up (and I caught my first glimpse of Ajahn Brahm in the flesh!) Each monk or nun said good morning to us; we said good morning back and spooned some rice into their almsbowl.
After a few monks and nuns, I realized I might not have enough rice for everyone. Even if I portion out half a spoonful for each almsbowl, it would still be tight. Still, the entourage continued, and I decided to try my best.
The next monk came along; I greeted him and gave him rice. As he moved to the next person, he reached into his bowl, scooped out all the rice, and plopped it onto my plate.
He must have seen that I was running low! I didn’t even catch the monk’s face or name, yet this moment of generosity fostered immense joy. The next monks and nuns received not only heaping spoonfuls of rice from me, but also big smiles of inspiration from the kindness I just received.
Then there was the generosity of Ajahn Brahm himself – and how much fun he seemed to have when giving to others. I was happy to see that he was no different from the monk I had been watching on YouTube: kind, down-to-earth, and ready to crack jokes to lighten the mood (or to keep us awake during Dharma talks 🙂).
On the first day of the retreat, I lingered a little too long in the garden and had to hurry to the meditation hall, thinking that I was late for the opening talk. I had to do a double-take at the entrance: Ajahn Brahm was there, holding the door open for everyone, smiling and saying hello to each person as they came in! I had never seen a Dharma teacher do that before. He encouraged us (many of whom, like me, traveled from distant countries and were jet-lagged for the first few days) to listen to our bodies: get enough sleep, sit comfortably, and for the amount of time that worked for us (“Who here has the most cushions and blankets?” Ajahn asked in a mischievous voice, looking around the room. Then he broke into a smile, “Please take more. They’re here to make you comfortable!”)
We had opportunities for private interviews with Ajahn during the retreat, and he would start every meeting with a smile and “How can I be of service?” Just these first few seconds of the interview were already a profound teaching for me. On the last day, I shared with him some disappointment that my meditation had not deepened as much as I wanted. He didn’t seem that concerned. It’d happen when the conditions came together, he said. Then he looked at me, held his gaze, and said, loudly, emphatically, “WELL DONE!” He reminded me that I had travelled halfway around the world to practice and had done the best I could. And, well, upon reflection… he was not wrong! This exchange has been a soothing balm for many moments of insecurity about my practice since.
The final lesson for me came from the volunteer kitchen coordinator, who, every day for the last nine days, has kept us well-fed by darting in and out of the bustling kitchen to direct volunteers, cook, clean, set out food, and put away leftovers. She was also available to answer questions from lost retreatants and probably took care of many unnoticed errands that kept a retreat running. On the last day of the retreat, a few of us gathered around her to share our gratitude and admiration.
“I’m doing this for world peace,” she said. That got my attention! She explained that everyone was here to learn to develop peace, and after the retreat, each person would bring peace back to their corner of the world. She also shared that, even though the work was so physically demanding that she would often need to lie down after each lunch service, it boosted her energy and improved her meditation – such was the power of giving. I think of her often as one of my models for generosity practice – not only for her dedication, but also her wisdom in the significance of her actions.
After the retreat, these encounters have inspired me to find ways to give beyond donating money. I found that I could be more generous with my time, energy, and even vulnerability: making a dish for a potluck instead of buying something last-minute from the supermarket, going out of my way to give (genuine) compliments to friends and strangers, showing up more often to participate in meditation groups that I have not been that diligent in attending. These acts may sound small, but I had passed on them before, partly due to laziness (which I’ve touched on here 🙂), partly due to doubt that they would bring about any good. Now, though, I have confidence that they would at the very least bring me joy and satisfaction. Some of them might bring joy to others, and – who knows – some may even contribute to world peace!
