Ever since I was 2 months old, Mommy has brought me to Avatamsaka Vihara, the Buddhist temple Mommy attends in Potomac, Maryland. (www.drba.org) It is a branch of Dharma Realm Buddhist Association, where A-ma (Mommy’s mommy) has devoted her life. Taking me to the temple was something Mommy told herself she would do for me since I was conceived because Buddhism is very important to Mommy. Mommy became a Buddhist starting in medical school and believes it has made her a better person, but she wishes she had known Buddhism sooner. This is why she wants me to have early exposure so that I could be a better person from birth.
I don’t really know what I am supposed to do at the temple at such an early age, but all I know is that as soon as I get up on Sunday mornings, Mommy wisks me off to the temple. Mommy says she wants me to get used to going to the temple every Sunday and she wants me to hear the chants. In reality, I had been going since I have inside Mommy’s uterus, so I was already pretty used to all the sounds of the chants. Still, I usually fall asleep on the way to the temple and sleep for another hour at the temple while listening to all the chanting. Mommy gets to chant for that hour, but it’s usually short-lived because I will start wiggling in my car seat, forcing Mommy to have to attend to me before I start crying. Lunch time is particularly hard on Mommy since I am usually very irritable by then. She has to put me in the Baby Bjorn while she gets her lunch and then eat while keeping me in the Baby Bjorn. There are usually very nice people at the temple who offer to carry me during lunch so that Mommy can eat more efficiently, but Mommy has figured out how to not rely on others in case she’s not so lucky every week. Once a month, I also get a bonus and get to see YiMa there when she volunteers.
Besides going to the temple every Sunday, Mommy also turns on the recording of “The Great Compassion Mantra” in my crib so that I can listen to it subconsciously while I sleep every night. Hopefully I will be able to recite it at an early age without many obstacles.
“What does Daddy do every Sunday morning then?” you ask. Well, since Daddy isn’t Buddhist (at least not yet) and doesn’t go with us to the temple, he gets 5 extra hours of uninterrupted time to himself. Lucky Daddy? Some might say so, but Mommy still hopes I’d prefer to go the temple with her.