Some of the best adventures are the impromptu ones, especially when they are to such fantastic places as this Shrine near a cemetery in Fengyuan. I've always been fascinated by cemeteries, like churches and Temples that are old there is so much history to them. You have generations of lives in a single place.
My friend and coworker brought us here (myself and my other friend and colleague Adam) because I told him about the blog. He described the ceremonies that happen here, it is here where there are Tomb Sweeping ceremonies and many of the celebrations tied to the dead and honoring the ancestors.
It is this connection to the past that I wish was more prevalent in the west. I don't think that European traditions are very good at remembering the past or paying tribute to the ancestors in such a way that we remember where we came from. For many of us in the USA are pasts are lost in the changing of last names, knowledge that wasn't recorded or things that were lost. It is traditions like Tomb Sweeping and honoring of the past ancestors that I would like to carry on to whatever family I have in the future.
This is a location that I plan on updating once I learn more about, since I can't find it anywhere online, even though you can see it from Fengyuan. It is high up on the mountain, though only reachable by a single road that as of a few months ago was blocked by a mudslide. I think that added to the adventure of being there. It was a mystical place and hidden treasure in an already quite amazing city. Our friend had showed around Fengyuan and I was very quick to fall in love with it.
While there we talked about Taiwan and how we were getting used to being here (and enjoying our time here while teaching) as well as talking about home, the natural world and our experiences. It was a powerful experience.
We also got to experience the silence. Night and the mind, one of the most peaceful places to be. A quiet, empty shrine with the stars in the sky and the lights in the cities below...these are the moments that add the magic and make life beautiful.
One of the first things I noticed about the Temples in Suzhou (and most
of the things in Suzhou) is that many of the sites that people can visit
are cheap or free. The North Temple Pagoda (Beisi Ta in Chinese) is one
of the places that nearly anyone regardless of income would be able to
visit, especially compared to the Temple prices in most of the big
cities like Nanjing, Shanghai and Hangzhou.
At the gate were
tourist busses (every major site has them) and people selling their
wares, as well as some old beggars at the gate. To get there Randy and I
had walked for nearly an hour from the Humble Administrator's Garden.
At the entrance of the Temple just past the gate is a giant fat
laughing Buddha sitting down behind a large stone altar. The Buddha is
made of stone and his face and form is such a joyful way to be greeted
in such a place as this.
The Temple itself isn't all that
large for being a tourist site, which really leaves so much of it's
charm and holiness of the place. In the center of the grounds rises the 9
story Pagoda (was once 11). In the middle of the Pagoda is Guan Yin
draped in a red cape. The darkness adds peacefulness to the place and
the narrow passageway to her is like a baby's entrance to and from the
womb. I did the three bows as the other folks who passed through were
doing and noticed an old couple whose seemed the most present in the act
of worship (compared to some of the younger folks and the few tour
groups).
After that we climbed to the second floor before
descending back down. It was good we didn't go farther up, the walls
have no railings on the way down making it rather dangerous (combined
with the small worn down steps). The Pagoda is ancient dating all the
way back to the 3rd Century, and being rebuilt once more in 1582.
After exciting the Pagoda we entered the Temple grounds where incense
was being burned by couples and individuals. It was here I bought some
incense and burned it for my friend Hien who had died last year. Since
her funeral I've been wanting to visit but have been unable to, so in
China I've wanted to honor her here.
The Three Great Golden
Buddhas rose up as I bowed three times towards them with the incense
that was afire and then placed it upon the sand where the others stood.
In China three is lucky number. Packs of incense are in three, every
Temple usually has three figures at the back.
When I left my heart was full of remembrance and time felt as if it had slowed down as I left the grounds with Randy.
Friends and community. Some of you have probably been wondering why I haven't been updating the blog at all. The reason I haven't is because I've been dealing with the death of a friend who was like a sister to me. It's strange really, while there at her memorial, funeral and burial I did feel that connection to her and something more...at times after that, I've wanted to visit churches and keep up the blog, but then I find I can't go.
Many times it's because I visit communities where I don't know anybody...I'm a stranger. I don't want to bring my vulnerability to strangers, to put it simply. Another reason is I think, is the issue of God and the afterlife for me. At the core, I think I am quite agnostic, I believe in living in the moment and now and in this life, not for a possible next, though I hope for God and an afterlife, and to see all friends, family and community again..I cannot know if God and the Afterlife exist with certainty.
I've never had a death hit me like it did that day at the memorial. It was week after she had died, and I arrived early and took the schedule for when she would be buried and when her funeral be, as well as the article in the UW Newspaper about her and sat on the couch to wait for more people to arrive. I looked at the schedule... the surrealness lessened and it really it him that she was gone. That was the first time I've cried in a long time.
The memorial was beautiful and powerful. A lot of my friends came, some who knew her, were related to her, or didn't know her at all...but came to support those who did.
It was being there with my girlfriend and friends that really helped the beginning of moving forward to acceptance and seeing her life in all her wholeness. She lived, and had a profound effect on all of us. The reading that was used to represent her life was the Beatitudes, for they represented who she was very well:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."
She truly did live all these things...
The sermon was very evangelical in that it was calling everyone there to Christ as well, which I've come to expect from any Trinitarian Church, so it didn't feel completely out of place.This was also her Church speaking, and her Catholic faith meant so much to her.
I talked to the Priest after, since he's a friend of mine and to my others friends who came that day. We reflected for a while and the conversations helped with accepting her death that day, as did the sermon.
After talking to friends and the month since that day, I'm still allowing time to heal.
The sadness has been like water against the land. Sometimes it simply laps the shores. Other times it's stronger and comes in more inland, and at one point I was even it by a tsunami of the grief.
It's been strange. I've found myself both wanting to be alone and wanting to be with people contradictory more so since her death. I've wanted to reach out to talk about it, but found myself closing up. I think I may be at the place now where I can talk about it, about dealing with the grief of her loss and the joy of her friendship and life.
She would want me to live, and us to live. It's something that in the grief I've sometimes forgotten.
