Dhamma-Yatra as a Pilgrimage

    This silencing of the monks has had a devastating impact. First, it removes an important protection from those lay people who are directly involved in legitimate political work far more than the monks actually are. When religious leaders speak out on the behalf of justice, equality, non-violence, and human rights, and on behalf of those who work for these values, an important legitimacy and safety net is created. When monks remain silent, the lives of social activists and the people they serve are more at risk.

    Second, the many legitimate ways that monks can contribute to social problems are suppressed. As traditional community leaders, monks once played a central role in all aspects of community life. Few initiatives were taken without their blessing or active involvement. Usually, their participation eased divisions within the community and nurtured greater unity. Without the monks, village cohesion and the ability to stand up for their own interests was weakened. Monkish silence has contributed to the overall disintegration of society that many monks lament.

    Third, whenever we blind ourselves to one aspect of reality we tend to be more blinded to other aspects as well. Blindness in the social sphere of life contributes to blindness in spiritual matters. When the Sangha is inward looking, especially ought of fear, spiritual life is stunted. No wonder that the mainstream (male) Sanghas throughout the Buddhist world are spiritually derelict.

    Fourth, when the Sangha focuses all its energies on itself, its relevance to society decreases and this ultimately undercuts support for it. A Sangha must be relevant to be healthy and vice versa. When it hides in irrelevance, a Sangha uses its energies and cleverness in increasingly meaningless pursuits, such as chasing after titles, ritualism, obsequious courting of the rich and powerful, and building monuments to their egos.

    Lastly, to justify their isolation and silence, the monks preach a disembodied Dhamma. Thus, the power and vitality of Buddha-Dhamma is petrified into abstract principles that are repeated without any meaningful linkage to real life. But where, after all, does suffering occur? And where is it to be ended or quenched? We are told of some nibbŒna floating in the clouds or found only after countless lifetimes. Now how can any intelligent person make that relevant to our real lives?

    Since nobody can quench dukkha except where it arises, disembodied Dhamma is pseudo-Dhamma. In effect, the monks ended up preaching mush. Many still do, though more for economic reasons than fear. In short, their silence slowly squeezes the life out of Buddhism, whether its centralized institutions or its popular manifestations. We end up with superstition, the science of sleeping rather than awakening.

    Fortunately, the social & political climate in Siam has changed since the 60s and 70s, but monks are still warned off of many activities. Stay in the temple, chant, perform blessings & other rituals, watch TV, eat, sleep, smoke cigarettes and drink Nescafe, but don’t do anything socially oriented, particularly political. Better yet, serve the latest ideology — Consumerism. Many willing do.

    This attitude is justified by selective readings of the Buddha’s Life that focus on a few episodes in which he responded to criticism and verbal attacks with silence. They leave out the many other responses he employed in varying circumstances. We are supposed to believe that the Buddha took fixed positions while his teaching was non-attachment to any positions. It is convenient for corrupt elites, whether business or political or religious, to paint a Buddha picture that sits passively in meditation and never leaves the Wat. However, this is not the Buddha story that we most need today and it is only a small part of the original story.

    The Dhamma-Yatra is another telling of the story, one that starts with the Buddha sending out his first sixty disciples to teach the Dhamma to those with only a little dust in their eyes. "Go forth, brothers, for the well-being of the manyfolk, for the happiness of the manyfolk, out of compassion for the world, for the welfare, the blessing of devas and humans. Let no two of you go by the same way. Preach the Dhamma that is splendid in the beginning, middle, and end."

    This alternative story honors the great distances the Buddha walked to bring the Dhamma to those who were open to it. In dawn meditation he surveyed the world, then set off to instruct those who were ripe for waking up. Even at the age of eighty, he walked in order to share his message and life, and died doing so. Silence, meditation, debate, preaching, versifying, walking: the Lord Buddha manifested himself in this world though many and diverse forms. He conversed with Kings but did not allow them to dictate to him.

    Our saffron and white robes (ordained) and banners (lay) are a symbol of bringing the Dhammas of mindfulness, truth, community, and social relevance into the villages, cities, swamps, forests, and temples.

    The Dhamma-Yatra is a pilgrimage of mindfulness. With our cars and air conditioning it is now possible to whizz past all kinds of suffering without noticing, without a heartbeat. Not so easy when walking through acres of moonscapes, former mangroves, devastated by tiger prawn farms. Not so easy when the ditches give off ugly odors. Not so pleasant when we see the poverty of people whose livelihood has been taken over by the market economy. Walking also lets us feel and appreciate the beauty of nature and village life that hang on tenaciously. Walking teaches us things about these strange mind-bodies. None of it fits into the preconceptions and theories very well, but all of it is alive. Many of the young cityfolk who have walked with us recall this as the outstanding feature of the walks for them; for many it was their first taste of mindfulness practice.

    The Dhamma-Yatra is a pilgrimage of truth. We have tried to create forums where local people can tell us about what is going on in their neighborhoods, how things have changed over the years, how they are suffering, and how they are responding. The villagers, too, suffer from imposed silences. When possible, local officials are present too, but not allowed to dominate. A well chosen monk facilitator can keep the balance. Like the storytellers of old, we retell these stories in other areas. The divide and rule tactics of the government often blame the problems of one area on the people living along another part of the lake. These are almost always distortions. We are able to counter the disinformation with stories we had heard from the area being blamed and partially diffuse animosity. We hope to nurture solidarity and networks of response.

    The Dhamma-Yatra is a pilgrimage for the integrity of local communities (basic Sanghas). Our explicit goals have been the rejuvenation of the lake as a viable ecosystem and of the communities around it as sustainable homes. The two are inter-dependent and the obstacles are huge. We have tried to affirm the value of local communities and their traditions, of their right to self-determination and control of local resources, of their importance to the larger scheme of things. We cannot claim any clear cut victories, but hope we have partially countered the modern message that undermines almost everything that is local or traditional (unless it can be commodified).

    The Dhamma-Yatra is a pilgrimage of social relevance. Our vision of Buddha-Dhamma is that it must respond to the real life problems and suffering of other beings (including Muslims!). For this, we must leave the emotional comfort of the temple walls and get a little hot, dusty, and thirsty, shed a few pounds and lots of sweat. While unable to claim clear material successes — immensely difficult in a country falling apart morally and culturally — we at least validate the lives, experiences, truths, and feelings of the people we visit.

    We have shown that Buddha-Dhamma and its practitioners still have a place within society. A group of monks walking through and not asking for money! Old cultural norms brought people out to greet and feed us; our lack of pecuniary interest earned trust. Dhamma teachings, river blessings, tree ordinations, meditations, and little projects gave people plenty that they could participate in, rather than just watch. When we ask people to walk with us, many do for a kilometer or two, even to the next village and beyond (though the youth — spoiled by motorcycles and TVs — are conspicuously absent). And it is sanuk — fun!

    How can they say it isn’t our duty, isn’t proper, when the Buddha himself did it? The Buddha spent most of his teaching career walking from village to village throughout the Ganges valley. We spoke to our various hosts of following that tradition. Wherever he was received, he talked with the people and taught whatever they needed to open their eyes a bit more, if not completely. We, too, have been well received wherever we have gone, however, learning as much as teaching. The people still have hope. The Buddha’s purpose was the end of suffering for all, not just for himself or a chosen elite.

    Why can’t we share in that purpose, too, in our own little ways?