You’re Shaving What?!
The morning after my return to Chonburi, I was as nervous as I possibly could have been. I woke up early in the morning and gathered what I thought I needed for hygiene while leaving all of my belongings on the floor of Honey’s flat. Before we gathered into the car to head into the wat, Nok, (my local Thai tea dealer below Honey’s apartment in my previous post) made a delicious bowl of Pad Kra Pao for honey and I with a nice fried egg on top and my Thai tea- the usual. I finished eating and everyone was ready to bring me to the temple to begin my honorable process. All of this excitement, yet I was definitely feeling some type of way.
The morning was of uncertainty. I was completely unsure at this point in the decision to become a monk. Even in my head I thought about turning back and not going through with it. As much as the uncertainty raced through my head, I couldn’t back down because of the amount of people that came out to support me, cooked an incredible amount of food, and all collectively made donations in nicely folded envelopes for the monks in order to go through with the ordination. Honey had contacted everyone she knew based off of Auntie’s kindness of having her family come out to support me. In total, we had 7 people in person, Abu in mind, and Honey’s parents all waiting in anticipation for how the ordination went, and to bring much honor to myself, Honey, and my newly add family with my Thai supporters that wanted to see me succeed. With their support, I knew that I wanted to make them as proud as I possibly could have. They spent time, money, and put effort into arranging so much for them to witness this ordination, yet in the back of the car headed to the temple, I had a feeling that weighed me down in my gut of nervousness and anxiety.
Perhaps, I thought, that I didn’t think the process through. Perhaps, I would be judged based off of my inability to speak Thai at all. Maybe I would be ostracized from the other monks because of some belief that I didn’t belong there. I was filled to the brim with doubts, but no matter what thought I had, I suppressed them inside of myself and like usual, flipped the switch inside of me to take this challenge and tackle it without fear. I couldn’t back down, I wouldn’t even if I could. To me, there was nothing to lose but time away from the freedom outside of the Wat, but in that moment, I went headfirst into a life changing experience that some could only dream of.
Honey sat next to me in the back of the car. I was looking out of the window as we meandered across the Thai backroads that led to the entrance of the wat that also neighbored a school for young students that would be the equivalent of a Catholic school but for Buddhists for us.
After 20 minutes, the car rolled into a stop and we unloaded out of it into a beautiful environment of ornately golden temples and visibly tarnished bronze bells laden across the walkways towards the entrance of the wat’s common areas. The trees would release their leaves in the slightest breeze and pollination would blow past us as we began to chat.
The people that came out to support me were people that I had never met before that day. I met uncle for the first time ever along with his family. I was shown incredible love from people that didn’t even know me! They put so much time and energy into some Farang that, through Honey, was convinced and told about my experiences here in Thailand and how bad I wanted to go through the ordination.
Honey would translate the conversations of 6 people through my new family, even though I didn’t know the weight of how much I would consider them so just yet. She did an incredible job of utilizing her skills of language translations to allow me to communicate with people so fascinated in my life and my decision to do something perceptually crazy thing for a Farang to do. Once the monks arrived, the reality was set in its place, and there was absolutely no going back now. They called Honey and I into the head monk’s office for her to translate, for me to sign paperwork, make my agreements of the guidelines of becoming a monk, and the most important part personally, receiving my new name as a monk.
The name “Ophaso (Oh-Pa-So),” derives from Sanskrit, an ancient Indian language that in its origin, is a name from a few words combined together, and then through the Thai translation, is given its new form in Thai script. O-pha-so, a name which was chosen for me, means “The Enlightened One” or “Seeker of Knowledge”. Honestly I thought the label was quite fitting, and I embraced my change to appreciating the new label as the robes signified a rebirth from who I previously was, into honoring the thousands of years of tradition and honor as an ordained Buddhist monk.
After the paperwork was completed, I was guided outside. In front of everyone who came out to support me, there I was, in a chair outdoors and a monk with shears in hand prepared to remove my hair. There was a sense of nervousness, but I had my head shaven already while in basic training, and my monk barber was more careful in treatment than I ever had received at Fort Jackson. Piece by piece, my locks of hair fell upon my body and the concrete. My thick hair had wrapped up around itself as the shears grazed my scalp. I felt the weight of my head becoming lighter, and the breeze from being outdoors whoosh past my ears in a sense of floating freedom. At this point, the hair wasn’t my main concern, but I was sad to see my mustache go. By this time, my mustache was bushy and burly. It had been an enjoyable 2 months growing it out, but in one instant, the work scattered to hundreds of hair shavings around me, and I had come to terms with accepting my decisions, and there were no more concerns. The moment I shed my hair, the last bit of fear or anxiety left me, and I felt that the commitment to this decision came in great stride, and I felt proud in that moment. My head, eyebrows, and mustache were shaven, and I was prepared for my next step in donning the robes.
The Ordination
After the vanity of hair was removed from my body, I was laden in white, signifying purity and preparation to undergo the ceremony by fire, claiming orange robes to represent the forging of the spirit through rejection of desires and heightened spiritual inclination.
Everyone supported my efforts, and I stood before those that took time out of their days to prepare and witness this great transformation of an individual outside of Thai culture undergo the unthinkable with full, unrelenting love.
Here are some photos from before the ceremony:
After the pictures were taken and everyone said their best wishes, they led me up the steps of the temple, and inside awaited 14 monks in preparation for their new Farang monk to be apart of their humble temple for the period of one week. I’m sure many of them thought I would leave before the week was up since the lifestyle was so incredibly different, but I went through the motions of repeating mantras in Sanskrit, taking my oath as a monk to give up the things in my life that hold me from becoming closer to enlightenment, take a vow of chastity, and to only eat one meal a day.
Within that time, I repeated the Sanskrit mantras from the Abbort, or head monk of the temple. They led me to the side of the ordination hall and I rid myself of my white clothing and one by one, the pieces of fiery orange robes were added to my body. It was a solemn moment of respect and love. The monks came up and touched me on my shoulders and guided me through the mantras in repetition.
I bowed my head thrice in succession to the head Abbort, and the ceremony concluded with an introduction to my mentor, Prat’ Mot. (Prat’ is the Thai way of saying “Monk”, or other names could be Loom-Pii, or “heavenly reverend.”
At this point, everyone gathered around to partake in pictures. In those robes, they viewed me in a new light. I was not Taylor, I was Ophaso, an ordained Buddhist monk living in the vows of monkhood and gifting honor to those that had supported me, as I would honor them through prayer and self-sacrifice.
My First Day Experiences
After the ceremony concluded, Honey and I walked with Prat’ Mot to his quaint abode near the rear of the temple. I had said my goodbyes to everyone that came out to support me and they told me how proud they am of me. I legitimately had a family, and it was my first day ever meeting them, but their unending love was incomparable to anything I have ever received before from strangers that wanted so much of a success in my journey. I truly felt the love of these Thai people that I now hold close in my heart for their efforts and time.
After setting down my items given to me as a monk, my extra robes, a tea set, a food storage container, a thin bamboo sleeping mat, a small pillow, flowers, and perhaps my most important possession- my alms bowl, I now settled into the small bungalow with Prat’ Mot. Honey and I spoke for a time before we said our goodbyes from a distance, as monks are incapable of being physically touched in anyway by a woman. Prat’ Mot and I started talking to each other, and we learned about the reasons why we each pursued monkhood.
Prat’ Mot is married, and he used to be a successful businessman, but COVID ruined his business and his depressions grappled with him to provide for himself and his wife. She wanted to stop in to provide a means to keep herself and their sons provided for, and Prat’ Mot had a spiritual calling and a desire to remove himself from the materialism of the world. He wanted to forgo his stress and live for the Buddha, escaping the stressors of the world. (If only America had that opportunity as easily as Thailand has.)
Most monks are ex-military in Thailand, as it is mandatory to perform a 2-year service obligation within the country. A lot of men also want to honor their families by becoming monks and utilizing that opportunity to transition into a more relaxing state of mind. For those that don’t serve in the military, unless there is some substantial circumstance, they are also obligated to become a monk for a period of up to 6 months. These men around me weren’t old men, albeit there was a fair share of them. Mostly, these were young men in their 20’s and 30’s fulfilling their obligations and family wishes to honor the family tradition.
Prat’ Mot, however, was in his 40’s, and his transition to monkhood was lively and of peace. He enjoyed his day to day of providing support for those looking for passage rites in funerals, prayer, and the forms of donation and prayer in the morning called the Bintabaht. The Bintabaht is a morning tradition where people come out to the streets in droves to make offerings to the monks by placing food, money, drinks, medicine, or other items to be made in exchange for prayer. Typically these offerings are in remembrance of past family members or for better luck to come their way. By donating to the monks, the karma will be returned. Prayer in Sanskrit is said in a song-like pattern and is almost hypnotic to listen to. I suppose that whether you speak Sanskrit or not, the mantras bare their weight.
Our communication was limited to Google Translate, and we would converse for hours over the phone. Sometimes, it was quite exhausting as I wish I was capable of having a basic conversation with him in Thai, and his bare knowledge of English also made it complicated to request basic things from me or inform me of events. Through prayer, meditation, the temple cleaning, funerals, and temple tasks, I would repeat what the monks spoke, and I was official within the collaborative efforts to accomplish the duties of my monkhood.
It was only my first day, but I was already feeling like I belonged at this temple. I was accepted and shown so much love from those that didn’t know me from a hole in the ground. None of it mattered, though, as I was shown the the true ways of the livelihood of a monk, as a monk.
As the first day winded down, I hadn’t eaten since 11 hours before in the morning of my ordination. I was allowed to drink water, but anything physical was off limits to eat or it would be a breakage of vows. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as hungry as I had expected. I believe my mind knew that I couldn’t consume food, and so I closed my mind off from the desires of eating.
I showered that night, and I prepared to rest, donning new robes and was ready to begin the weeklong journey as my ordained self in the path of monkhood, meditation, delayed fasting, and prayer. Before I slept, Prat’ Mot and I sat in front of the Buddha statue, we bowed before and after the 15 minute long mantra three times. The entire time I worried about my belief that I was turning my back on Jesus, and while I repeated these mantras, I prayed in the back of my mind about doing this in the name of knowledge and wisdom to understand those that could be misrepresented by not placing yourself in their position. Many Christian’s wouldn’t even become monks of their own religion, so to take on this challenge of becoming a monk in a religion other than my own beliefs shows my dedication to understanding those around me.
I felt a calming sensation, a sense that Jesus knew where my heart lied, and I was soothing my experience in the fact that I knew where I stood in relation to the challenge I decided voluntarily to pursue. I would struggle still, though, for a few nights until something amazing happened which Ill touch on in my next chronicle
For this first night though, I experienced a revelation that when I awoke, I believe made me a different person.
The Revelation Through Struggle
That first night was incredibly difficult. For me, I was laying on a lacquered hardwood floor with only an extremely thin bamboo roll-out mat to prevent my robes that I slept in from getting dirty upon the ground. I had a small pillow to protect my head, but the struggle was that the mat did not provide much for protection against the immensely uncomfortable hardwood floor grinding against my bones and pressing the joints of my hips and shoulders to lay awkwardly. Any position I laid in forced my body to conform to an unwavering hard ground with limited padding with that bamboo mat.
I struggled to sleep, but throughout the night I was receiving revelations of others. The Buddha says that all struggle comes from desire, and at that moment, I desired a bed more than all. As I attempted to sleep, though, my eyes would close and I would drift in my discomfort into a light sleep. Images would flash into my head of those that have never experienced comfort in their lives, or had it taken from them and forced to live worse than I am. I saw flashes of homeless people sleeping on park benches, concrete, and bus stations. I felt the bitter cold of winter, and the scorching heat of unrelenting summers. I saw images of those that have never had the pleasure of knowing their own bed. I saw poor kids in Africa and Latin America, kids that will bathe only to return to a dirt floor with minimum resources to feel as though their own home could provide a sense of relaxation. In those moments, my body was in excruciating pain. I felt through these images the feeling behind them, and the weight of how it took tolls on those that truly understood struggle.
As I was getting flashed these experiences for hours, waking up and drifting back to sleep until wee early in the morning, suddenly, my body stopped feeling anything. The pain the hardwood and the discomfort of not having the comforts I was so used to dissipated, and I, for the first time in th night, felt comfort. I felt when I woke up in the morning a truly close connection of divinity, and that I had experienced the first lesson of my monkhood- understanding suffering, just as the Buddha intended. This was a powerful moment of awakening for me, and I came out of that first night loving more for the lack of what I had, than the abundance of the things I didn’t.
I could tell already that I was on a path of enlightened change, and that if I took anything away from my monkhood, it would be to appreciate what I have at all times.
The Morning of Enlightenment
As I woke up, I donned my Bintabaht robes, and as I walked barefoot down the roads with the Abbort of the temple, I bared in my hands my Alms Bowl or begging-bowl as I looked at these Thai people, making their offerings and not being surprised about a Farang in robes. They didn’t look at me twice, they didn’t ask questions, they didn’t ponder about my right to be there. I was a monk. Ordained and ceremoniously accepted, the people of Thailand that I met bowed their heads, dropped to their knees, made their offerings and I prayed for them. It didn’t matter to them who was under the robes. The robes were a sign of divinity in the blessings of the people.
After the night of my aching body, I was experiencing the feeling that though my physical body hurt, I could feel the spiritual body in them hurt. Some cried while they made offerings, some stayed on the ground praying long after we had left to find more donations. These people put their heart into the support of the monks that they looked to us as a saving grace in their long and hard struggles from an unmerciful and mortal life. I was proud to be in this position. I was proud to offer a sense of love and compassion to these people. Secretly, though, while the Abbort and I prayed in Sanskrit, in my head I also prayed to Jesus about the ease of their hearts and souls. I knew it wasn’t my place to be an evangelical, I was only here to learn; but I knew that in my heart, I couldn’t fulfill my role as a Christian without properly giving the dues to God when I see struggling people by offering my own prayer.
Perhaps there is more overlap in religion that a lot of us understand. I know in my heart the true Way, but at the same time, I can’t deny the spiritualism and incredible effect of the beliefs in Buddhism. As I spoke in Sanskrit, there was a truth in the mantras. There was a feeling of connectivity that brought deep respect to me as a Christian in the knowledge that Buddhism is a way of life, not a religion. These people may not know Jesus, and I know not their fate, but these people are legitimate in their path of religion, more so than most Christians I know, even myself. I garnered a deep respect for the lessons I began to learn, and through all of the aching of my body and drastic change in lifestyle, I felt I was on the right path of what I needed to grow as an individual.
Follow for the next chronicle covering the remainder of days as a monk and what I have learned.
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