Rugged Interdependency - Amaravati Buddhist Monastery

The day flowed along as easily as the sun passing across the clear blue sky,illuminating the golden grasses and bottle-green oaks around us. This day was theculmination of many years of effort and incalculable meetings. Jack’s dream of aWest Coast center to partner IMS had now inarguably come to fruition.Wes Nisker and his partner Terry Vandiver sat and had their lunch with meand then all reconvened in the bright octagonal hall. All corners, every pathway,was filled with good-humored chatter and greeting of old friends – the air brimmedand bubbled with gladness and goodwill. During the afternoon we had a coupleof guided mettā meditations (from Sylvia Borstein at the beginning and Mary Orrat the end), a talk from Jack (repeatedly addressed as “Our Fearless Leader”) andan open sharing from the floor time, for the assembled folks to speak of memoriesand their stories of Spirit Rock’s foundation. All this was pretty lively – and it hadbeen helped along in its energy by a couple of songs, in the early afternoon, fromJames and Wes and Terry.As the sun dipped towards the western ridges we made our ways to the cars.Behind us, on white ribbons, our prayers and heartfelt wishes fluttered from thepillars around the courtyard in glistening dozens. Our jaws were tired from thesmiling hours but the effort had been worth it – a great day to launch the ship forthe next millennium. AND nota bene, in the face of all the colorful rituals, hardlya mention of vipassanā and its concomitants… an ironic fact indeed after theemphasis that Spirit Rock had made in its early days of consciously dispensingwith the ritual element of spiritual practice in Asia. Even having co-opted a clip ofpeople bowing and chanting from the BBC film The Mindful Way, of Ajahn Chah’sMonastery, to show in their promotional film (this was back in 1990) what SpiritRock was NOT going to be about. Everything changes.July 5 thOnce again Edward and I piled into his car after breakfast and headed to SpiritRock – this time for my participation in a family day. A slightly more colorful andless controlled, but equally well-organized collage of songs and sittings, ritualsand prayers and (for one group at least) even a hike through the hills. On thislatter we were treated to the amazing scene of the one boy who had brought alongsome water, offering only to sell it to the others on the walk, then, the deal havingbeen struck for 12 cents, he took the money and didn’t give any water to anyone,simply raised his price to 25 cents, then to a dollar. The disgust was complete buthe – what a life he’s heading for – seemed oblivious to the stupidity and ugliness ofhis actions. Eight years old and already lost in deceit and greed. It was also interestingthat none of the adults were going to force him into parting with the water– he had to work it out for himself.Once again the day wound down around the late afternoon and the gentlyglowing crowds wended their way home. I took myself up to one of the cornerrooms in one of the new accommodation buildings – Mettā – and ensconced myselffor the evening. Even though the good Seth Castleman, head of the family programand dear friend, came with a tray of tea I could feel the batteries fading fast again –107