Rugged Interdependency - Amaravati Buddhist Monastery

Golden Highways Revisited: 1998setting in and so I baulked at the all-night sitting and retreated to my room, overlookingthe Zen garden at the monks’ vihāra.Alone at last.June 24 thThe day broke warm and bright. After the gruel time Luang Por and I went for awalk to Frithsden beeches and admired the Temple from the path above the oldrailway line: to the west stands the bastion of Mammon – Ashridge ManagementCollege, to the east the portals of secular power – Gaddesden Place (formerly thelocal squire’s residence now the home of a computer magnate) and in the center,to the north, the golden spire of Amaravati, rising from the swell of oak-green anddark red tile of the Temple roof.We strolled along the lush lanes, thickly overgrown with the year’s unnaturalfecundity – more rain and warmth than ever – so that the grasses and corn arethick and green beyond imagining. The dog roses tumbled in fragrant cascadesfrom the hedgerows, lone poppies burst forth in the field margins determined notto let the pre-herbicidal days be forgotten, local gardens erupted in ferocious anddivine vigor (as at Amaravati), their flower beds barely seeming able to containtheir multicolored cargoes within their borders. Earth in glory and the English Waymanifesting its full potential.Following a dense-headed afternoon rest I went to chat with Ajahn Sundarā fora while – she was just back from two-and-a-half years in Thailand and other Asianparts so it was good, as an old friend from the early days at Chithurst, to catch upon her story. Following this we both went to the ongoing study group, led by SisterKovidā, investigating this time the subject of Refuge. The ten or so folks (includingGeorge Sharp, former chairman of the English Sangha Trust, the group whoinvited Ajahn Sumedho to England, and who is now a resident at Amaravati) werea little nervous with the two of us “spiritual giants” present but things got moreeaseful after a while – it was no surprise, given our general talkativeness, that thesession continued until 7:15 and narrowly escaped eclipsing the evening pūjā. Thesitting was bright and serene, although somewhat thinly populated.June 25 thAnd the morning sitting … well, the only bhikkhus there were Luang Por and I…all things change.I had a chat with the new Sister Santacittā (formerly Sylvia) as well as SistersKovidā and Mettā at the gruel time (I went for the tea only) which metamorphosedinto being surrounded by a crowd of adoring women from Amaravati:Hope, Esther, an Australian from Bodhinyana, a dreadlocked one whose name Idid not catch, plus several others. It became an in-depth Dhamma discussion onnon-abiding and related approaches, lively and rich, and was only drawn to a closeby the need for them all to go to the community work meeting at 8:30.Crowds of visitors of various kinds had arrived by the mealtime including,quite unexpectedly, Maer Bau and her son Jinjok – the air force officer who had98