Mo Lin Temple



We walked along the silent path, the two of us, preserving the silence as a sacred thing.  As we traversed the steep hills on the trail completely enclosed by the foliage and blanketed with a thick fog, I couldn't help but be amazed at the serene quiet that swept over my mind as well.  What was this quiet, this eerie silence which left my limbs numb.  We were each alone, distinct individuals lost in thought or its absence.  Silence in the presence of someone else is endurable, almost therapeutic, but in the absence of others it can take a whole new twist.  As I left that sacred place, the place naturally insulated to the noises of life, I became afraid of it, afraid of the power it held towards a wayward soul attempting it in solitude.  I feared the return which I now knew to be inevitable, the return which my soul at the same time feared and necessitated.   

The serenity of the place was invigorating; the trip to it, symbolic.  A long journey from the banging and bustle of the city we had only just left.  The long bus ride, the meditative hum of an engine struggling to climb the step grades to the top of the mountain.  But it made it, as it had hundreds of times before, each a journey in itself; full of anticipation, fear of unattainment, and the final pride in the realization.  Each passenger on that bus had felt the journey, had made it their own, and would later forget their doubt during the progression.  At the end of the ride, as we each filed out of the bus, and our eyes adjusted to the diminished visibility, we began to make out the shapes of the structures sitting calmly here on the top of the surrounding world, only to be more awestruck by the quiet enveloping us.

The setting was foreign to me; a quiet Buddhist monastery with the most impressive statue of Buddha I had ever seen.  It stood over 20 meters high, alone, overlooking the creases and valleys of the world bellow.  To reach the Buddha you had to climb about 200 steps, it really was on the highest perch possible.  The hike up the stairs was most amazing that day, such thick fog leaving you with a surreal feeling.  You couldn't see more than the outline of the Buddha until you were just upon it, as if the fog alleviated your need to see any further, to know what lied ahead.  Once at the top, the peak of our destination, we could see the patches of fog and cloud coalescing and blending together, the motion of which I had not anticipated.  It was all moving so fast, and yet when you were immersed in it it felt like a motionless ether tickling your senses.  But at the top, from the vantage point of the Gods, we were let in on the secrets of the clouds.

Descending the stairs back down to the monastery was just as surreal as the trip up.  It lacked the central goal which we had on our earlier climb, but it must be more relevant to us drifting souls climbing to an uncertain future, where only the immediate path remains visible.  And so it was, until closer and closer we came to the bottom, where our next destination, the Mo Lin monastery became more and more visible.

I must point out here that I am not a religious man.  I don't hold beliefs in Gods and their stories.  But I do believe that there was a purity in me at the time.  A purity of thought, and serene demeanor caused by the quiet of the place, the extreme beauty of the physical environment, a total acceptance and submission to my surroundings.  Submission to a calm that can only occur at most a handful of times in one's life.  This was all perfectly clear to me at the time, I was consciously aware of the unseen power my mind and body had walked into on top of that mountain.  And as I strolled slowly hypnotized through the monastery, admiring the art of the place, the routine of those who held it sacred for different reasons than I, and the meticulous care and precision taken to preserve it, I felt a strong bond with them.  This power which surrounded me had created this place, had worshipped it, had kept it safe and soundless, and had done it through the minds and hearts of my fellow man.  Whether it was man who created this power or the power which had created man all seemed trivial, the end consequence was all that truly mattered.

And finally we walked upon that silent path, the two of us, preserving this sacred silence.  It was a moment or moments undefinable, time no longer seemed to carry the same weight.  Nor did the world, or worries, or trials and tribulations caused therein.  We, us two weary travelers, sharing a moment of solitude upon a path to an unknown destination.  Finding solace in serenity, beauty in the world, and an intense joy in silence.