HOW I FOUND THE BUDDHIST PATH

***

Gary Mc Millen

 

In the summer of 1994, I was the coach of a baseball team comprised of fifteen 13-year-old boys.  We had won the local New Orleans district and state championships in Louisiana and had traveled to the state of Arkansas for the Babe Ruth Southwest Regional playoffs.  The competition between the teams (Texas, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Louisiana and New Mexico) was very intense.  I was not accustomed to this level of play.  After the opening ceremonies, coaching two games and watching several others, I noticed I was becoming very nervous, irritable and easily angered.  The worst kinds of feelings were arising.

 

I was staying in a motel room.  One morning I decided to take the rental car out into the countryside.  I had a strong feeling that I should not stay in the motel.  I had to get away from the competitive environment and find a peaceful or quiet spot where I could relax and get my mind off of the thoughts about baseball and competition.  I was a stranger to the area but I felt a compelling need to get away from the motel room.  

 

After about a half-hour of driving, I became lost.  I was worried that I would not be able to find my way back to the motel.  I was in some rural area on the outskirts of town where the houses were few and far between.  I stopped the car when I saw a man cutting grass.  He was working in the bushes and weeds outside of a strange looking house.  It wasn't like the other houses or buildings.  There was bright yellow and orange colored flags or banners on the porch and some kind of statue in the side yard.  I got out of the car and went up to ask the man for directions.  The man was an elderly Vietnamese person who spoke only a few words of English.  After a few awkward moments of looking at each other and smiling, he invited and motioned me into the house.

 

The house was actually a Buddhist temple.  I went in the side door and suddenly, despite the strange surroundings and conditions, I felt as if I had somehow come home.

           

The old man introduced me to a very small Vietnamese woman dressed in a gray robe.  She was probably in her mid to late thirties and spoke no English whatsoever.  She had a wonderful, radiant smile that seemed to reach into my heart and her eyes just sparkled with life and confidence.  Leading and guiding politely with her hands, she led me through some curtains into a main room and directed me to sit on a folded blanket and cushion.  She positioned me in front of a shrine and Buddha statue.  Somehow, I understood that I was to do meditation.  She lit incense, turned her back and walked out, leaving me alone.  I was amazed at how such a small, quiet woman could be so direct and forceful.  There was no question that she was in charge and I had no problem with that arrangement. 

 

During this meditation, my mind eventually became very calm and settled. I quit struggling with everything.  I wasn't sure what was happening but I felt comfortable and safe.  Before this particular and precise moment in my life, I had no religious background, interest or faith.  But sitting there on the cushion, I could feel some natural affinity to the silent smile of the Buddha. 

 

Then I heard the soft sound of a bell.  I arose out of the meditation and followed the teacher into the kitchen.  It was like I was under her leadership and authority but it was not about control.  She invited me to share a simple lunch she had prepared.  The whole experience seemed to blend naturally from one event into another.  There was no noticeable effort, strain or persistence in the teacher's manners and movement.  The food looked strange but tasted delicious.  I had never seen anyone eat with such mindfulness in my life.  We tried to talk but we ended up just laughing at each attempt to communicate.  Despite the barrier of different languages, I knew, without any doubt that I was in the presence of an enlightened person. 

 

Finally, it came time for me to leave the little templeto go back to the world.  I was filled with a sadness and reluctance.  I did not want this unique and rare experience to end.  I said goodbye and walked out the side door into a little parking lot.  The old man was still cutting grass and he stopped to bow to me.

 

As I walked to the car one of the strangest events to ever happen in my life took place.  I could smell perfume in the air.  The sweet, light scent was everywhere, drifting in the air.  At first I thought the aroma was coming from a tree so I walked over to the tree.  But it was not coming from the tree.  It was a pervasive, beautiful odor that filled my nostrils wherever I walked.  Then, as I was walking around looking for the source of this perfume smell---I had the clearest, brightest thought.  The thought was so sudden that it was like a voice speaking in my head.  The voice said, Gary, there are no defilements”     

 

O.K.  At this point you must understand that the word defilement” was not in my vocabulary at the time.  Of course, I knew what the word “defilement” meant but it was a word I would never think to use in everyday conversation or writing.  I had absolutely no previous knowledge of Buddhist dharma words or concepts.  Up to that point in my life I had never read a sutra or any kind of Buddhist literature or teaching.   

 

There are no defilements,  the words kept ringing in my ears as I drove back to the motel.  What did it mean?  What had happened to me back there?  Who were those people?  What did that little Vietnamese woman have that I didn't have? 

 

Over the course of the next few days and weeks, I was unable to forget the experience.  I kept coaching the baseball team.  We won the Southwest Regionals and went on to the Babe Ruth World Series in North Carolina.  After we lost two games in the World Series we returned home to New Orleans.  I wrote a letter to the temple address, asking a series of questions and asking if I could return. 

 

Through a translator, the teacher responded.  After several letters of correspondence, I bought a plane ticket to Arkansas.  There, I joined in with several other Vietnamese Buddhist families and took refuge in the Three Jewels, vowing to observe the Five Pure Precepts and, after bowing humbly, requested the instruction, advice and guidance of the nun as my teacher. ***