FUNCTIONING CHAOS – NON-FUNCTIONING ORDER

by Rev. Mas Kodani - Los Angeles Senshin Buddhist Temple

On our recent trip to India, 18 Senshin members and friends encountered a sudden Monsoon downpour
in the city of Madurai in south India. As our bus entered the city from an excursion outside we encountered a
huge flow of traffic in 6 to 8 inches of water in a city with no sewage system. We were inching along through
the city at about 5 miles per hour along with hundreds of people walking in water up to their calves, water
buffalo, cows, goats, cars, tricycle put-puts, bicycles, taxis, tricycle rickshaws, dogs, and a few chickens. But
this was not what was remarkable. What was remarkable was that all this traffic was moving along a narrow
street without touching each other, but flowing along nevertheless. The horns were beeping, not so much in
anger, as in warning others of one’s approach. There was no thought of road rage, anger, confrontation. The
rain was welcome after a long drought – and this was just a slight inconvenience, one to be shared and even
enjoyed.
I thought about how this would be received in the U.S. Most probably with indignation, road rage,
confrontation, irritation, and frustration. India, a nation with one billion people, 14 major languages, 5 major
religions, and extreme wealth and poverty is a remarkable functioning democracy. It has a lively and freewheeling
press, expanding high-tech economy, a multi-lingual educational system, etc. etc. It is also a country
racked by religious and caste strife, suppression of women, etc. But the land of the Buddha is a wonder to
behold. Differences and contradictions abound, variety is the norm. And in this incredible mix and chaos,
society flows on its merry way – with a kindness and flourish that is disarming. I suspect that it is because of
the overwhelming daily contact one has with people and other animals in India. Life is not imagined, it is
encountered, moment after moment.
In Los Angeles, I get into my insular car and drive to work, actually meeting and talking to 2 or 3 people
a day. I get back into my moving cubicle, get home, watch TV, go to bed and repeat the cycle again. Were it
not for a life at the temple – my human contact, not to mention other animals, would be sparse indeed. My life
is more in my head than anywhere else – it is not practical, not real, it has no odor, no real taste. Everything is
bland, antiseptic, efficient, glitzy, polished, refined, and boring. Dedication, sacrifice, perseverance, stick-to-itness,
really isn’t as important as being able to bend, being as kind and gentle as possible to every living,
enjoying the company of others (including humans) and just standing there (instead of always doing
something). What is true and real is beautiful. And nothing is what is required to get at it. And wanting it
spoils everything. And not wanting it is still wanting it. What can we then say except Namoamidabutsu?
Namoamidabutsu,
Rev. Mas