Thân Khai Chân Phu
Every year since 2013, I attended the World Peace Gathering as a novice nun. What motivates a person to shave off their hair, relinquish the comfortable life, even for a short period, to live in a disciplined environment (or more disciplined than they would have voluntarily taken upon themselves)?
I have always been in awe of all these novice nuns and monks who joined our organization’s (CSS) yearly Altruistic Home-Leaving program. These are professional people who have become assimilated into this society, standing firmly in place among their peers. They are not “losers” or people who are no longer interested in the life around them. They are also mothers, fathers, grandparents, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. They are not “lonely” people who have nothing to live for.
Yet, for a short period, they are willing to go “naked,” cutting away the crown jewel that is their hair which helps to shape how they want to present themselves to the world. Appearance is significant to us mundane people. We are cautious about how we dress on different occasions. We take care of not showing the signs of aging to the world. We have a specific self-image that we want the world to acknowledge. Nothing haphazard about our appearance once we walk out the door, even when we look casually unkempt.
So, what makes a person willing to put away all these trappings that help identify us to the world and be incognito among many indistinguishable people? The first Altruistic Home-Leaving program was in 2009, and in four years, I watched in awe as my dharma brothers and sisters, friends and acquaintances, shaved off their heads, put on shapeless, nondescript robes, and changed their persona. I thought this was the one thing that was beyond me; there was no way I could see myself going bald with no makeup and letting people see my unprepared self.
Yet life has a way of moving you forward and upward if you are open to and accept the challenge. When my husband passed away suddenly in 2011, my world shifted. The things that were so important before became inessential.
The head of my family was no more; the well-being of my family members was now squarely placed on my shoulders. I looked at my children and mother and felt the limits of what I could do for them.
As a Buddhist, I was taught that we could lessen the burdens of our karma by repentance, but that’s something one can only inspire people to do. Genuine contrition can’t happen by force. Still, there was a way. I couldn’t force my loved ones to repent to help themselves, but I could cultivate for them. I would join the short-term Altruistic Home-Leaving sangha and transfer all my cultivation efforts and merits to them. That was something I could do for them after all.
Armed with such a purpose, I joined the 2013 Altruistic Home-Leaving sangha. With exhilaration and trepidation, I traveled to California. I still remember the day of the head shaving. I sat among the first-timers, awaiting my turn to get my head shaved by Thay. One by one, people walked up, sat on the chair, feeling their hair leaving their heads and listening to Thay revealing and reassuring what’s most profound in their hearts. I sat there waiting, thinking that I still had a chance of walking out of there with my hair intact. Such mixed feelings I had then. Would I go through with this? For what purpose? Would it make a difference?
I saw my children’s struggles, my mother’s illness, and my husband’s hardship; my resolve was strengthened. Before the last person, I walked up to the chair. As I sat down and felt the electric shaver passing through my hair, I knew that this was the point of no return. I was embarking on a different journey, and all my struggles disappeared.
I heard Thay’s voice as if from a distance, telling me to learn to let go and to forgive, yet I couldn’t let go. I held back my tears; I would not cry in front of everyone. I was not ready to go completely “naked” yet.
Since then, each year, I have experienced, again and again, the transformation of my persona as I join the Altruistic Home-Living sangha. I felt my inner self revealed to the world, little by little. The pretense I showed the world grew less critical, and the love and enjoyment that helped me connect with people grew more meaningful. I am more accepting of my limits and my potential.
The love that opens in me helps me to embrace my mother more freely, unhindered by assumed past wrongs and schemas. I see my husband more clearly, understand his brilliance, goodness, and shortcomings, and accept his transgressions. My life becomes the example my children look at and guides their lives.
All the changes in me cannot come from books or knowledge alone but from experience, from the willingness to go “naked” in front of the world, however slowly. There is such lightness in being when we are less fearful of others’ judgment because we are more accepting of our limitations and unlimited potential.
I feel my blessings in being able to attend every year since I started, blessed for the opportunity to atone for my past transgressions, and those for whom I cultivated each year. I feel blessed for the chance to see how alike we all are beyond the pretense we show to the world.
Mai Ly Phạm