Deer Park Monastery, Escondido, CA
I finally made it back. I was supposed to be back on Wednesday, April 6, in accordance with a nice, tight, clean schedule, whereby I was to leave New Jersey in the morning, land in San Diego around noon, take an express bus to Escondido in the afternoon, take a local bus halfway to the monastery, walk the rest of the way, arriving by evening and having the door to my room left unlocked since they would know exactly when I was returning. I would have a week and a half to settle into the monastic practice before the monks returned from Vietnam.

Instead, I chose a circuitous route back to the monastery that involved flying into a completely different city, over 500 miles of driving, constant family presence, constant two year old baby tending, living for free out of a Days Inn that was owned by a friend of the family, and some groundbreaking intimate space with my dear cousin who, as I’ve mentioned, I’ve known for 25 years and is probably the most important person in my life and is now important to my practice path as well. She’s been helping me through this decision to be on the monastic path, as well as exploring a series of repressed memories from the 90’s. No joke – cleanly excised from my memory, confounding and frustrating. And my steps on the monastic path have become varying degrees of uncertain.

I flew into San Francisco on Thursday, April 7, about 10 hours before my uncle, step-aunt, cousin and her two year old arrived from Taiwan. From there we rented a minivan and met up with my cousin’s brother-in-law and her two little brothers (my uncle’s youngest sons), one who lives in San Jose, the other who flew up from San Diego. The two brothers are about 10 years younger than my cousin, and after their mother died, my cousin played a large part in raising them through their adolescence, much more than my uncle did, because he just didn’t know how to do it. Actually, she played a large part in raising them even before their mother died because she was a local politician by then and didn’t spend much time raising them herself. Consequently, their loyalty and love is much more to my cousin than to their father, but everyone gets along pretty well.

We stayed one night with my cousin’s brother-in-law in Oakland, had lunch in San Francisco the next day with another branch of family who were in town because their daughter was getting married, and then drove down the coast, stopping in San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, and then finally reaching San Diego. My uncle has an old, old friend from Taiwan who owns a Days Inn, and they were more than kind and gracious and generous enough to put us up for however long we wanted to stay. No joke, they are a couple who I now refer to as Uncle George and Auntie Connie, and they were so wonderful and positive and went way above and beyond being hosts. By the end of the week that we stayed there, I told Uncle George that if they were my parents, I would consider their words and advice regarding the monastic path. I think they must have been really great parents to their two kids, and if I was their son, I’d be taking their happiness into consideration with any decision I made.

After arriving in San Diego, the plan was just to stay for a few days before they took me to the monastery and they would all leave for their respective destinations. Somehow, their stay kept getting extended, and I kept pushing back my return date to the monastery. First my cousin who lives in San Jose extended his stay for an extra day before flying out. My uncle and step-aunt flew out according to plan to go to New Jersey for the New Jersey portion of that other cousin’s wedding. But my cousin kept extending her stay, and I kept pushing back my return, until finally we ended up hanging out until the last possible day that I had to leave. Instead of having a week and a half to settle into the monastic practice, my cousins returned me to the monastery pretty much at the same time the monks returned from Vietnam. My cousin left the next day to return to the Bay Area to spend a few days before flying back to Taiwan.

So I’m adjusting along with the monks to being back here. I haven’t seen most of them as they’re recovering from jetlag, and I’m recovering from a head cold and lack of sleep over the past week (with a two year old crier of a baby, no one gets much sleep). It’s different. I’m different. If I just wanted to stay on the monastic path, I shouldn’t have left in January. I’ve tried sitting meditation several times on my own since I’ve been back, but it’s hard when you’re getting over a cold. I fade in and out of reality and I get bombarded with images of the past few months. I’m also wondering what will be the end result of my stay at the monastery, whether I will actually go forward and be ordained as a monk. That’s the plan, that’s the intention, but I also have nagging doubts now, and all I can do is continue to look deeply into myself and find out what my heart is telling me and what my path should be. The journey I’m taking as a monastic aspirant will already be one of transformation, but the question is whether the transformation ends up with me ordaining or leaving and continuing my path elsewhere.