Why I become a monk: Bhikkhuni Sudhamma
Why would anyone want to be a
bhikkhuni? Here is my story, as an American woman. I first
learned about the Buddha when I met Thai monks in California in
1993. I was an attorney (an NYU graduate), 29 years old, and
married to an attorney. At that time I had been suffering from
chronic fatigue, therefore I had quit my job. With a lot of free
time, I meditated many hours with Thai people and learned from the
monks. Then doctors diagnosed the cause of my fatigue: advanced
cancer! and I held onto Buddhism like a life-raft.
The cancer
was a form of leukemia in the lymph nodes, very difficult to
cure. After a year of suffering extreme medical treatments for
the cancer (including an autologous bone marrow transplant), I got
well. But because of the cancer, my husband had left me, my money
was gone, my career was over, and most of my non-Buddhist friends had
abandoned me. I lost everything. (My ex-husband even took
my beloved cats.) Cancer taught me anicca: impermanence.
Therefore I wanted nothing more to do with household life, for it is
ultimately meaningless. I wanted to follow the way of the Thai
monks who inspired me. When a Thai monk gently informed me that
no woman can become a monk, I was very shocked. I felt crushed,
and almost turned away from the Dhamma. Many American women do
quit studying Dhamma because they cannot accept the pain of sexism in
Buddhist religion. Instead I decided to trust the Buddha to help
me overcome the pain.
I
started a new career taking care of disabled people, while continuing
to meditate daily and to serve the monks whenever possible. For a
long time I wept every day, because I wished to live as a monk and
could not. Then, one day in 1997, I suddenly knew it was time to
go. I left my job and my home, to seek a Theravada centre where
an American woman could focus on Dhamma full-time. After
traveling and inquiring, eventually I found the place: a large Sri
Lankan monastery and retreat centre in the USA. There I kept 8
precepts for 16 months, before ordaining as a samaneri (female novice)
in 1999 at Vesak (Vessakha puja); with shaven head, I wrapped myself in
robes, like a monk. Four years later, I received higher
ordination in Sri Lanka – ordained by 12 Theravada bhikkhus and 10
Theravada bhikkhunis of Sri Lanka. They were not Mahayana.
I don’t know anything about Mahayana.
After
higher ordination, my life transformed. Now I live the holy life
(brahmacariya), training myself in accordance with the Bhikkhuni
Patimokkha. I live on alms, never handling money, and lay people
fully support me. (My good Christian neighbors often kindly put
food into my alms bowl.) I hope to become enlightened in
this lifetime. For me, the bhikkhuni path is easier and happier
than the lay-life.
While
learning from Thai monks 15 years ago, I had begun to speak and read
Thai language, and learned to chant like Thai people. Now I
cannot remember any of that. Thailand could not help me fulfill
my goal. Now I lead a small congregation of American and Sri
Lankan supporters, leading Sri Lankan style devotionals, and chanting
Pali with a Sri Lankan accent. Whenever people come, I feel happy
to teach the Suttas, teach meditation, give counseling, hold classes
for children, officiate at funerals, and more. University
professors of religion send their students to me, to learn about
Theravada Buddhism.
My
centre is located in the southeast region of the USA (between Atlanta
and Charlotte); there are no English-speaking monks trained in
Theravada Buddhism within 100 miles. Respected Sri Lankan
bhikkhus in various cities in the USA strongly encourage me by
telephone and email, and say we need MORE American-born bhikkhus and
bhikkhunis to teach Dhamma in this big country.
Sri
Lankan abbots in distant cities invite me to their temples to give
teachings, and to help their female supporters. The women come to
me and weep while telling me their suffering: a woman says that her
younger brother committed suicide… or her husband is having an affair…
or she had a miscarriage… or her daughter died… or her young son
converted to another religion… or she misses her aging mother in their
homeland far away… We talk alone. Sometimes we hold
hands. The women feel comforted. They share their secrets,
and say, “I cannot tell these things to the bhikkhus!” They also
say that no male monk teaches them like I do, for we are women and can
understand each other. While we talk, these women begin to smile
and laugh through their tears. Their healing begins.
Now my life is fulfilling and worthwhile. I would rather live a
very short life as a bhikkhuni than live a long life as a
laywoman. Homage to the Buddha! Homage to the compassionate
Sangha of Sri Lanka who made my goal possible!
Source:
http://carolinabuddhist.net/articles.html