Ajahn Brahm's Talk at the Singapore Buddhist Lodge

Yesterday, my friend Jamie and I went to listen to a talk by Ajahn Brahmavamso, which was held at the Singapore Buddhist Lodge. As you can see in the pictures, the turnout was huge. We had to sit on the carpeted floor for about one and a half hour.

Before the talk began, Angie Monksfield gave a short talk before Ajahn Brahm began, in which she criticized the monks of Wat Pa Pong who were against the bhikkuni ordination and said that not everyone who shaves their head and wore robes can be considered a "real monk". Earlier, I had given my take on this issue here. She went on to say that Ajahn Brahm was a "real monk" who didn't have credit cards or own big houses (a clear reference to Ming Yi).

The topic of the talk was about "Making Choices in Life". Ajahn Brahm identified four criteria to ascertain whether you are making the correct choices:

1) Are you making your decision out of selfish desire?
2) Are you making your decision out of anger?
3) Are you making your decision out of stupidity?
4) Are you making your decision out of fear?

Most of the talk consisted of stories, several of which I had heard before at a previous Ajahn Brahm talk some years ago. Here's a few notable ones:

1) Ajahn Brahm's teacher was Ajahn Chah. Once, Ajahn Chah asked Ajahn Brahm to get something from his room. This was a big deal because the rule was that no one is allowed to enter Ajahn Chah's private quarters. By that time, Ajahn Chah was already a very famous monk (who was even visited by the Queen of Thailand). Harbouring intense curiosity about what he would see in his room, Ajahn Brahm entered and was both shocked and relieved to find a spartan and nearly-empty room. For all his fame, Ajahn Chah remained a simple forest monk.

2) A man, trapped a mouse in a mousetrap and mean spiritedly tried to throw it into a bonfire. The mouse managed to escape the fire and ran into the man's house. The mouse's fur was singed and it ran across the curtain which caught fire and the man's house was destroyed. Moral of the story: Don't be evil. I did a Google check on this story. Apparently it has been debunked. But that doesn't make it less true in a philosophical sense.

3) Ajahn Brahm retold a famous anecdote regarding the Japanese Zen master Hakuin who was once falsely accused of impregnating a girl, to which his only response was "Is that so?" When the angry parents insisted that he took care of the child, his only response was again "Is that so?" And when the truth was finally cleared, the parents went to apologize to Hakuin who again responded with an "Is that so?" I'm not sure if this story is even practical. If I am falsely accused of a crime, should I just tell the police "Is that so?" and just see what happens? Furthermore, I couldn't help but wonder why Ajahn Brahm himself didn't follow Hakuin's example and just say: "Is that so?" to the criticism from the monks of Wat Pa Pong. In fact, he spent much time during the talk trying to justify the ordination.

4) Ajahn Brahm told a variation of this famous Zen story. Moral of the story: Enjoy life while you are alive.

5) And my personal favourite: A World War II story about a British Army Captain who ordered his men to sit down and have a cup of tea when they were heavily surrounded by Japanese troops.

I don't doubt that Ajahn Brahm is an erudite monk. But I felt that the talk was rather lacking in substance. While it was engaging and entertaining (Ajahn Brahm told lot of jokes and stories and the audience laughed a lot), there were a lot of platitudes ("Don't be selfish..true happiness comes from being selfless...Don't have ill-will, it's not good for you.") which were delivered without telling the audience how to reduce selfishness or ill-will. I feel a good dharma talk should at least provide the listener with some practical method of reducing selfishness or ill-will. But this kind of "pop Buddhism" is to be expected with a public talk and perhaps Ajahn Brahm's teachings for his disciples would be more substantial.

During the Q and A, many questions were written and passed onstage. They ranged from the intensely personal ("My husband is having an affair.." or "I can't get along with my mother-in-law") to the downright frivolous ("I want to watch a movie with my friends but have homework to do. Which should I choose?") I'm not trying to minimize the problems of other people, but is it realistic to expect that a monk can, in a few minutes of a public discourse, give a "quick-fix" solution to problems which are ongoing and complicated, with factors that Ajahn Brahm cannot know?

But at least the last question was interesting. Someone asked whether Buddhism was existential or deterministic. Ajahn Brahm said these were categories that arose from a theistic religion, which Buddhism was not. Buddhism is about teaching one to still the mind and avoid clinging to concepts.

The talk ended with a short Pali chant from Ajahn Brahm:

What I Wore To Prom Night

Last night was Prom Night for the Seniors. It was held at the Meritus Mandarin Hotel in Orchard and it was really a night for the kids. Many of them looked radically different with dyed hair, make-up, and formal wear. Prom Night is, for most people, the time to be glamorous and gorgeous, but I remember my own private rebellion during the Prom Night for Jurong Institute's class of '98. It was held at some hotel near Marina Square and the following is one of the few pictures that have survived of that night:

(From left-right: Chee Mun, Hongxian, Shirley, Bala, Matthew and myself)

I was probably the most under-dressed person of the night. This was deliberate. At that time I wanted to go against the grain of everyone who was looking to dress up as glamorously as possible. So I wore an old red shirt. The pants and shoes were what I always wore when I went out. Pinned on the shirt was a badge of Sathya Sai Baba (whom I worshiped at that time). Perhaps some of my peers thought I looked outrageous. Or foolish. Or both. I didn't care. I just wanted to make a statement.

Some might say that people who don't dress properly show a lack of respect to themselves. That may be true to some extent. On the other hand, I have always had a distaste for the glamorous and the opulent. I prefer simple, unpretentious and common things. So I think what I wore for the night was just an affirmation of myself.

But with age, I have also learned some measure of conformism. Youthful rebels have to grow up...

The Sunday Essay

(Source: Fare poster from SBS Transit's website)

You Never Say, I Never Pay

A few days ago, I was taking a bus from Bukit Batok to Orchard when I witnessed a rather interesting exchange between three youths who were probably aged 17 or 18 and an SBS inspector, which I shall paraphrase from memory. The inspector discovered that the one of the youths (who was not in school uniform, so presumably had no ezlink card) paid only a dollar for a trip to Holland Village. "You go everywhere pay one dollar is it?" The inspector asked. I think the youth must have said yes because I also heard the inspector say: "One dollar minimum fare, brother."

The youths protested that the bus authorities: "never say" what the price was. The inspector refuted that by saying that the new prices were already displayed last year. He presumably meant that they were displayed on the bus and bus interchange. "Where got. Show me!" One of the youths demanded. The inspector replied: "Take down already." The youths seized on this as the fault of the authorities.

The inspector then proceeded to say that he had to fine the youth twenty dollars for underpayment. After some argument, the youth reluctantly took out his IC and while the inspector was jotting down his details, the youth's phone rang and he took the opportunity to complain to his friend: "Take one %^*#@ bus cost twenty dollars." He clearly felt that this was a miscarriage of justice. But assuming that he had always paid a dollar for bus journeys, it does not take a mathematician to estimate that he would have owed the bus company more than $20.

After he had issued the obligatory paper work, the inspector gave the youth some advice. "Actually I'm not supposed to say this, but I'm doing this because you are not happy." He told the youth to call a number and tell them a "crap story" (his exact words), that this was the first time he was taking a bus and he did not know the regulations. If whoever was on the other end believed the story, the fine would be waived. If not, then too bad.

What struck me about the whole incident was that the youth who underpaid did not seem to think that he was in the wrong. Claiming that he did not know the price is a ridiculous excuse because if you are the passenger, isn’t it your responsibility to find out how much the cost of the service that you are using? If the youth did indeed call to waive the fine and I was the one picking up the number, I would say: “Since you claim that this is the first time you are taking a bus, shouldn’t you ask the price of the journey?” I was also surprised by the “advice” that the inspector gave to the youth. As an employee of the bus company, he should have known better than to tell a passenger to spin a "crap story" to waive a fine that should rightfully be paid. Perhaps he was feeling sympathy for the kid. If I was him, I wouldn’t.