Mother Mudra, pen and ink on graph paper, doodle
© 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.
“Would you like to see a special temple?” our guide asks as she holds out her hand to help us off the canoe. “Tourists never go there, but I know where it is.”
“Yes, yes,” we nod.
Two brothers from the boat crew and one of their girlfriends have the day off, so they join the Japanese couple and me, plus our guide, on a sight-seeing tour.
It’s still early. We walk single-file on a narrow path past houses where children loll in front of TV sets and women shell nuts. The brriing-brriing of an old-fashioned bell causes us to step off the path in unison to let a bicyclist pass.
Soon we turn on to a dirt road. The ground is moist from last night’s rain. We come upon a bevy of small roosters strutting herky-jerky in individual cages. “Fighting cocks,” our guide says, and we stare somberly as we continue on. Nervous prisoners awaiting execution.
Suddenly there it is before us, a shimmering white pagoda with blue-tipped wings, ready for take-off. We slip through the gate and everything changes, like walking through a mirror into paradise. Our feet float on spongy grass-moss and our hands graze two golden dragons.
A teeny tiny frog catches my eye. I stoop to catch it. The rest of the group peers in to my cupped hands to see what I have, but as soon as I flatten my palm the baby frog leaps toward the sea of green.
Thirty-nine days have come and gone since that morning in Cai Be, Vietnam. I’ve tried to find out what temple it was—a name or lineage—to put into context what I experienced there. But every town in Vietnam, it seems, is filled with temples. Finally and with some relief, I give up my search and fall back on the only context I can lend, which is the moment itself.
Our group moves together like a small cloud, individual ions held in a single energy field. We seven are the only people on the temple grounds this Sunday morning. Our guide ceases being a guide—this isn’t a formal stop on the tour—and together we step gingerly from one area to another. We are like children who aren’t sure we’re supposed to be there.
We take turns rubbing the Smiling Buddha’s belly for luck, slip off our shoes and climb the steps to the interior courtyard. Once inside the great temple’s main chamber, we splinter off to explore. I’m drawn to a table with framed photos of men, women, and children. Next to each photo is a hand-written card, and next to the table is a large cabinet, its shelves filled with goods and more cards.
“Those are gifts.” Our guide has come up behind me as I peer at the blue-and-white china and tarnished silver in the cabinet. “The card says these valuables were passed down through the family since the 14th Century, and now the family gives the items to the temple in return for their daughter’s health.”
I turn back to the porcelain, suddenly troubled by the notion that as more tourists come to Vietnam, vandals might some day steal these gifts and sell them for profit. I am sad, and I shuffle, burdened by the thought, to another table, this one covered with hundreds of glass tumblers holding candle wicks in shiny yellow oil. The candles are lit—prayers reflecting like sunlight on a river.
Now it is October in the Rio Grande Valley, a beautiful fall day. My country is in turmoil—our economy imploding and our society exploding, with rage, over the national elections. I am literally and figuratively oceans away from that soft temple, its Smiling Buddha and croaking frogs, the river of light and strength of detachment to material things. I feel far, far away from a belief in miracles and peace.
There is a goddess in the Buddhist temple of Cai Be. I don’t know her name, but she wears a wry smile and dons earlobes to her shoulders, reminding us that the Buddha was once a prince whose ears became stretched from the heavy jewels he wore. Even when he gave up a life of luxury, his ears remained long.
Like an apparition, this goddess appears during my final stroll through the temple’s courtyard then again in the flower garden. She holds her right hand next to her heart, palm out, fourth finger touching thumb. She offers the Vitarka Mudra, a Buddhist hand gesture that symbolizes Teaching or Instruction.
At the core of Buddhist Teaching are the Four Noble Truths: 1) life means suffering, 2) the origin of suffering is attachment, 3) the cessation of suffering is attainable, 4) there is a path to the cessation of suffering, which is middle-way between the extremes of self-indulgence and self-mortification.
I think of the parents who carried their precious family treasures to the temple. I can understand that kind of act. People who love others, truly love, will give up anything if it means their loved ones will survive. There are people all across this world and in my country and my life who know that kind of love. They are greater than all the bad, and though I lose this truth when I most need it, it lives even when I forget or stop believing.
The goddess of Cai Be resides in my heart now. She stands before a vast, desolate land whose river runs red and mountains are bare. She wears the colors of new life, green and yellow, but also the color of death, because they are of the same cycle. Above her the sky fills with the promise of renewal. She welcomes all who come to listen and learn. She is a teacher, and she is peace.
Today I can see her.
Buddha Mother, statue in a Buddhist temple in Cai Be,
Vietnam, photo © 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.
ybonesy, what a beautiful post. Your drawing has the same kind of meditative quality that a mandala has. There is a calm, quiet strength in the writing, a layer of calm over all the swirling anxiety happening these last few weeks. It has been such a tumultuous year.
I love the detail of reading about your journey to the Temple. Finding the frog, letting it go. The fear that comes up around possible theft of the temple gifts. That there are so many temples, you had to let go of finding the name and post the piece in the moment.
That experience seems to have changed you. And you carry it inside. What a gift. This is one of my favorite drawings yet. Do you think you’ll go back to any of the temples when you return to Vietnam in November?
One of the hardest of the Noble Truths for me is the second – letting go of the things I’m attached to. It can be a real struggle. But if I keep the other three in mind, it helps me keep coming back to center. It’s clear we can’t stop the suffering. Only the way we choose to navigate.
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And thanks to you, today I can see her too. Such a wonderful post, the writing is exceptional, as is the thought that guides it.
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Thank you for this post. You have inspired me to hope for a visit to such a temple myself. Your writing conveys serenity and flow, like cool running water, allowing me to share the power of your experience.
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Hey, QM and Jo, thanks for the comments.
QM, I’d love to go back to this area in November, but I will probably instead go to an area I haven’t been yet. Vietnam is so beautiful, and there is so much yet to see.
One of the hardest of the Noble Truths for me is the second – letting go of the things I’m attached to.
Same here. I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately, wondering why I struggle with it so much. And it’s not just material attachments; in some ways those are easier to let go of for me. It’s more about attachments to ideas and beliefs.
I heard recently an interview with someone who wrote a book about “fundamentalists,” which he defined as anyone who is closed to other ideas. In some respects, he was saying that people who have passion about their beliefs can be and are fundamentalists, because they are not willing to listen to others.
I have been wondering a lot lately if my own passion has made me a fundamentalist, and I’ve questioned my own willingness to let go of my attachments. I’ve also been thinking about how even my own culture—fiery and passionate—conflicts with the culture of Buddhism.
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Beautiful post, YB. It brought me a sense of peace, something I needed today. Thank you.
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ybonesy, that chapel you mention reminds me of Chimayo. I’ve visited there a couple of times — a place of miracles.
That’s really interesting about clinging to our own way of looking at things as being “fundamentalist.” I can totally see it, too. That is what makes a fundamentalist — someone who can’t let in or listen to the ideas of others. Not that they have to agree with them — but just being willing to listen.
The fire you speak of, the one inside you, it’s a beautiful thing about you, ybonesy. I don’t think the Middle Way is about taking that fire away — just about learning to hold it along side the openmindedness and peacefulness that comes from being able to listen to others with different beliefs. It doesn’t mean we all have to agree. And the fire can still burn strongly, maybe in other venues, as we hope others will take the time to listen to our point of view, too.
Another thing I’ve been thinking about is about the idea of granting people rights, such as human rights, voting rights, rights to marriage, etc. — we don’t have to agree with the notion to know that it’s the right thing to do.
Sometimes the right thing to do — like changing discriminatory laws — doesn’t jibe with our personal beliefs. But we still all deserve equal rights. The Middle Way might be to vote for the human right, even though we might be conflicted or we don’t agree with it — because it’s the right thing to do. I guess that’s the High Road.
There is so much to think about in this essay. I’m sure I’ll be back again.
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Thanks, ritergal. Nice to see you stop by.
I’m so glad to hear that you’ve inspired to visit such a temple. I wonder if there might be a Buddhist temple close by, as some bigger cities have them.
My mother-in-law and I went to a chapel, not consecrated by the Catholic church yet Catholic in all other respects, in August, I think. I’d been earlier in the summer with my daughters. It’s hidden down an alley and in a gorgeous little plaza in Old Town, Albuquerque. It has a similar serene and life-giving quality, and like the temple in Cai Be, it is filled with candles and notes asking for help and in some cases miracles.
I’d like to write about that experience some day too.
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“…it lives even when I forget.”
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“letting go of the things I’m attached to”…
I used to be that way, hanging on to things, collecting things I truly thought would be important to me “forever”. But now, as I close in on becoming the oldest generation in my family, I find I only want to roam the world. I want to see it with all it’s flaws and it’s unmatched beauty and hang on to the memories of those adventures in my mind.
I’m not sure how it is for others, but for me, when I looked around and found my grandparents and then ultimately my parents gone, something changed in me. Life is short. There is no “forever”. No matter what negative forces are out there trying to bring you down, there’s no better time to make it count than now.
Buddha Mother’s get’s it. Just look at her serene smile. 😉
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Hey, Heather, I still have my parents, but seeing them age before my eyes—it really does make me realize that life is short. And my daughters, too. I was just their same age, and now look at me. They’ll be here soon, and I’ll be in my parents’ place.
You strike me as someone who truly siezes the moment—speaking of, how’s your Day of the Dead Halloween palace coming along? 8)
Yes, Buddha Mother has the most incredible smile. Her eyes are crystal clear and look right at you, too.
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Thanks for stopping in, leslie and Robin.
QM, the Santuario de Chimayo is, indeed, a miraculous place, all those crutches and leg braces hanging the walls from people leaving them behind. Did I ever tell you that my mom sprinkled dirt from the magical never-vanishing hole of holy dirt onto my bed and my brother’s bed when we were at our most rebellious? We were teenagers, and Mom would sprinkle the dirt, which she brought home in a little plastic box, in our sheets. She’s so funny—even as she claimed she didn’t believe in God, there she was with her holy dirt. 8)
Thanks for the words about fire versus detachment. That makes good sense, and I think I need to come to that kind of peace about two seemingly opposite ways of being living side-by-side.
I agree with you about the notion of “rights.” They are absolute truths, right no matter what we believe.
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ybonesy, I don’t think you did ever tell me about your mother sprinkling Chimayo dirt on your beds. Yet another amazing story about your mother. There she was holding both a claim to non-belief about God, along with a strong enough belief to sprinkle Holy dirt. It’s kind of that same thing about holding both things again. Cool. 8)
I remember the crutches and the never-vanishing hole. That place is something. I brought home a medal and a bottle of Holy water from Chimayo that I keep on my altar. I’ve only used it a couple of times. Cleansing away some negative things, kind of like burning sage.
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yeah, yb…it’s really weird when you look around and realize your suddenly at the top of the family tree! My mother is still alive, but with stage 5 alzhemiers, so not much left to say.
Your perspective will change and you will sense time wasted. You will not hold onto things.
yb, Thanks for asking. Day of the Dead looks great! I love to see the kids coming up the stairs to the gallery to see what’s up. A 5 year old power ranger was posing with my skull bride last night. He was dead serious and he cracked me up. I’m slowing adding photos to my blog to share it, revealing the scene slowly, since it’s smaller than the usual craziness. I have a big sign on my house diverting people because I could see the panic. I would never want to disappoint the kids (or the seniors for that matter) 😉
Interesting thing about your Buddha. One of the artist’s is Japanese and her Halloween art is of a portion of a Buddha’s face. She’s having re-occurring nightmares and sees this same image. It’s a purple face, only a portion, 3 irises (they actually look like those little umbrellas in drinks), tears streaming and deep grooves above the nose. It’s magnificent in person and gets a great deal of comments. She even added seeds like peppercorns so it’s dimensional. After she dropped it off and I walked her to her car, I told her she would not see this nightmare again. She questioned me why? I told her he had been released to me and I would take good care of him. She smiled brilliantly. 😉
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yb, could you delete the first “slowly adding photos”. I got it on there twice (copy and paste). I don’t want anyone to think I drink wildly 😉 and then get rid of this evidence so I appear less dorky than I am 😉
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I too have been “chosen” by certain icons. This one is gorgeous. The power seems to move through her, even in a photograph. Thank you for sharing the account and the image, I connected with both deeply.
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I love the quiet of this, and the art.
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This post is beautiful! The “doodle” you have drawn of Mother Mudra is amazing- I LOVE the vivid colors! And the story of your journeys— and the picture of the goddess is just exquisite… !
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Heather, fixed that little typo yesterday, but didn’t have a chance to tell you how much I laughed when I read your note—didn’t want anyone to think I drink wildly. 8)
Hey, I did check out your special Day of the Dead/Halloween-inspired art picks, and I noticed the one with the close-up of a part of a face. I hadn’t realized that was Buddha. Really nice piece. All of them are excellent. Are they all local? (I’ll have to go back and see what you said to the questions I left on your blog.)
QM, where do you keep your altar? Sounds like some great mementos from el Santuario to hold there with the other items. (Any feathers, by chance?)
Thanks rick and sib. Thanks for stopping in.
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hey yb, yes, all local. Los Angeles (Buddha), Long Beach and behind the Orange curtain.
glad always to supply some laughter…just don’t look to me for help with split seams. I sewed my guide sheet to the back of my dress in Home Ec. ;)H
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What beautiful writing. You spoil us here, yb. I love the stunning colors in your drawing of the Buddha too.
Especially poignant were the references to all the strife we’ve been witnessing in the US. Your descriptions of the temple sounded so peaceful and tender. Thanks for bringing me to that special place.
PS
I’m moving my blog to a new location. Here’s the URL:
http://www.balancedontheedge.org/
Hope to see you there!
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Thanks, Christine. I got some new marker colors, so I was able to play around more than usual with my colors. I almost had too much choice this time. 8)
We’ll change our blogroll to reflect your new URL. I love the name of the blog. We’ll definitely be coming by.
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Heather, I got kicked out of my Home Economics, so, join the crowd. 8) 8)
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ybonesy, I keep a small altar on top of a bedroom dresser (#18). I used to have a much larger one on top of a long hand-built stereo stand (that we now use in the studio). But we live in a very small house now and things are scaled down.
So only a few altar things out including a Buddha made out of some kind of black volcanic stone. I’ve never seen one like it anywhere else. And I have a white Kuan-Yin (Guanyin) that Mom bought for me one year when I was home.
Hey, I was kind of wondering if the goddess in your piece was Kuan-Yin? She tends to display attributes from both genders.
The feathers? Well, now that I live with 3 cats, I’m afraid the feathers don’t cut it at home! Pants, Chaco, and Kiev think of feathers as wild play toys. So the feathers are mostly in boxes. I do plan to put a few out in the studio though. I just ran into them the other day.
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This was a beautiful post YB! I hope to visit such a place someday.
I loved your photos and your art too.
Thank you for sharing your world.
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Thank *you* suz. I’ve been loving your moon paintings these past few days.
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hi. i missed my glimpses into your rich world. an insightful post from you as usual. i’ve found myself growing closer to many of the buddhist principles. it’s changed my life for the better in so many ways.
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Thanks, lissa. There are so many practices from different spiritual traditions that can help change our lives, and Buddhism offers many.
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[…] visit ybonesy at her blog, red ravine, and accompany her on her journey. the image for this blog is also her art work. comfort zone […]
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[…] The Goddess Inside My Heart […]
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Hey just wanted to leave you a post.
I had a vision in a dream last night about this mudra (I never heard/saw it – LEAP OF FAITH) – This mudra healed and lifted heaviness from my heart.
Yours was the site that came up THANK YOU SO MUCH – Your picture and words gave me the words/wisdom for my experience.
I am a healer in Illinois – I have a Near death experience as a premie – 9 yrs old – 15 yrs and divorce when my children were 3-6yrs and again recently (near death again and again) YOUR WORDS and GODDESS MOTHER is a great comfort when life is transforming from the end of a cyle into the beginning of a new one.
YOUR SIMPLE ACT of posting this HAS BEEN A GREAT COMFORT TO ME. We sometimes lose sight of how we can all change life (lift each other’s spirits from death to rebirth) just as Goddess Mother does
She is in you and in me.
WITH GRATITUDE and HONOR to YOU
Namaste,
Margie
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Thank you, Margie. Deep bow.
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[…] on me that Tony is an artist living as a businessman. No wonder his tours are so beautiful and magical. […]
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Hi ybonesy,
Many comments to this Mother Mudra post, I am losing touch a bit with my response after reading it. Mainly, I wanted to say thanks for sharing a good clarity in mind through your writing. Your descriptions paint the place and circumstances well – but combined with the sharing of how it juxtaposes with the rest of your life so great to read. The sign of teaching is a good sign for this post!
treestreet aka cc!!
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Hi CC, good to hear from you on the blog. I’m glad this post touched you. Your comment caused me to re-read it. One of those special times that I am grateful for having experienced, and also grateful for documenting while it was relatively fresh in my mind. Now when I read it, it’s like being there again. I can see it so clearly.
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[…] being from Can Tho, Anh didn’t know the off-the-beaten-path spots where you could find a temple that wasn’t officially on the tour. Nor did she have the same sense of adventure that prompted our last tour guide to stop in at a Cao […]
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