Quế Trang / Thân Khai Niệm
A Spiritual Turning Point in April
This past April, a turning point unfolded in my spiritual life. I made the vow to enter the path of altruistic monasticism.
Looking back, when the aspiration to ordain first arose in the quiet months before, my heart surged with an indescribable emotion. At last, I had the chance to repay the boundless kindness of my grandmother, who raised me from childhood to adulthood. But this vow was also a call from within — the echo of over ten years walking in the footsteps of my Teacher, studying the Dharma. The time had come to embody the teachings more deeply.
For more than a decade, the conditions for ordination had not yet ripened. I could only offer my efforts in the role of a Dharma Protector Bodhisattva, wholeheartedly serving those who had already entered the monastic path. Yet deep within, I quietly cherished the dream: that one day, I might don the simple blue robe, shave my head, and truly step into the life of a monastic.
And then, one day this past April, a wholesome condition arrived — and that long-held dream came true.
First Time Shaving My Head
On the first day of shaving my head, as each strand of hair fell away, I felt as though a small chapter of my life was being released. With every hair leaving my scalp, a part of my soul quietly opened.
In that moment, I thought of my grandmother.
People often cherish their hair as a symbol of outer beauty — and I was no different. But today, I found myself letting go of the hair I once treasured, with surprising ease. I simply wanted to offer it as a gift of filial gratitude to my grandmother — simple, yet filled with love.
The feeling was hard to describe: both light and sacred. I sensed a cool stream flowing through my heart, washing away the longing and attachment I once held for my hair.
The Joy of Letting Go
In the past, as a Dharma Protector, I found joy in quietly supporting the monastic community from behind the scenes. But it wasn’t until I shaved my own head that I truly understood the happiness of letting go.
People often chase after food, clothing, status, and competition. Yet in the moment my hair fell away, I felt my heart open wide like the sky. That joy didn’t come from gaining something new, but from gently releasing something old — letting go of attachment to outer appearance, and the fear of losing the hair I once cherished.
In that moment, I realized: there is a kind of filial piety that doesn’t come from fine meals or warm words, but from offering one’s entire spiritual life to a loved one. And that is the gift I wish to offer my grandmother.
A Message to You
If one day you still have the health and the wholesome conditions, I hope you’ll try living with the monastic Sangha — just once. Ten days is enough. Enough to taste a different rhythm of life — quieter, deeper, and more selfless.
At first, you might hesitate: because of your hair, because of the discipline, or simply because communal living feels unfamiliar. But allow yourself to let go, just once — and you may discover that your true heart has never been bound by appearances. What matters is not whether your hair remains or falls, but whether you find a Teacher, a Sangha, a place to lean on and grow in the Dharma.
The Final Lesson
That retreat left me with a profound lesson: I no longer live just for myself, but for the community — for others. When the heart turns toward others, the path of practice becomes light and unobstructed.
For ten days, I had only one task: to practice. Each chant, each prostration, each mantra slowly seeped into my being, revealing how hurriedly I had been living — without pausing to truly reflect. I remember my Teacher’s words: “The simplest thing is to always think of others.” But for that teaching to become a living current, we must immerse ourselves in the life of the Sangha. Only through interbeing — lifting one another up — can we truly taste the sweetness.
If we practice alone at home, no matter how many sutras we read, the mind can still bump against the narrow walls of ego. But when we live within the Sangha, faith becomes a firm root, the soul is nourished, and love expands in all directions. That is the path that brings us back to a life of depth, serenity, and awakened presence.