My Richest Deer Park Experience
The entire monastery, monks and nuns and all other residents, was invited to attend a presentation by one of the nuns. The presentation was in the large meditation hall and would be in Vietnamese. I arrived, received a set of headphones for the English translation, and found a seat. The presentation began shortly after I arrived. The nun was very petite, seated on a raised platform overlooking the audience. She took her seat on the cushion in the center of the platform. She smiled and bowed her head ever so slightly. She checked the microphone for volume and giggled, a nervous little giggle like a child might make. The audience settled and she began her talk. I placed my headset over my ears and began to listen to the halting English translation. I did not like this method, so I removed the headset and listened to the Vietnamese speaker. To me the words did not matter that much for I had heard this topic discussed before. The speaker, however, was lovely in her melodic presentation. Her voice flowed and her hands waved gracefully to emphasize her thoughts. It was a lovely performance to experience.
When the presentation was finished the audience was to divide into groups to discuss the topic. This idea interested me little, so, upon the conclusion of the nun’s remarks I quietly departed the meditation hall and scooted up the hill to the dining hall. I arrived alone to the dining hall, poured myself a cup of tea, and took a seat in the far corner. I began to sip my tea and enjoy my solitude when a small group of Vietnamese monks and nuns began to arrive. Soon a few more arrived and they began to sing lovely little Vietnamese songs. After a time a group of nearly two dozen had formed a circle and the singing continued. A song would end and there would be a moment of silence followed by giggling and laughter, which lead to another song. The group was so happy.
After a time an older monk and nun arrived. The singing stopped. Evidently, I had inadvertently found myself in the spot of a Vietnamese discussion group from the presentation. I sat quietly. I would just watch and listen and sip my tea. Soon the discussion began. A member of the circle would be acknowledged and would share their thoughts with the group. When a speaker would stop their remarks often there would be a rejoinder from across the circle followed by giggles and laughter. The monks would laugh openly while the nuns would often cover their mouths and giggle. The group was so happy and appeared to be so supportive of each other.
Occasionally there would be remarks that were not so happy, almost somber. It was easy to spot these times for the nuns would look down and their smiles would disappear. During one of these times, although I didn’t understand a word that was said, I became very sad. I’m not certain for the reason for my sadness but I lowered my head to hide my feelings. After a time of struggling with my sadness I felt a presence. I raised my head to see a young monk standing next to me. He had a warm smile. His eyes were knowing. He placed his hand on my shoulder. He stayed with me for a moment, then turned and returned to the circle. As he walked back to the group I looked at them. Many were smiling at me. None of their heads were averted. I took a deep breath, wiped a tear from my cheek and allowed myself to be calm. The monk retook his seat and their dialogue began again. Soon afterwards the peel of laughter rang out and my thoughts went back to the joy of the group. I returned to reveling in their joy. However, the sharing was coming to an end. People from the other groups were entering the dining hall for lunch. The circle quickly dissolved into the crowd. For me, I was so happy to have been just a fringe member of this delightful joyous sharing experience. I sat for another moment and watched the dining hall begin to fill. It was a loud and relatively unsettling time. Soon I rose to take my lunch.
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