There is a phrase I’ve heard once or twice so far as I come close to my ordination, and it’s the title of this article. It’s a phrase that fills me with slight dread, but one that I will have get used to hearing as once I ordain because soon “my life depends on others”, as the sutta in the previous article tells me to keep in mind.

Once I ordain, the four requisites of food, clothing, shelter, and medicine, are items I no longer will have the ability to provide for myself. This was a wonderful invention of the Buddha who created the fourfold assembly of male and female monastics and lay persons. This four-fold symbiosis meant that monastics could not do what was so often seen near 1500 years later in medieval Europe, where monasteries were fortresses that had their own lands, their own indentured servants, and ruled over the populace rather than depending on them and being beholden to them as Buddhist monastics are.

As a monastic living at Bhavana I will need shelter to live. Bhavana itself is that shelter, if it closed down because people did not feel it worthy to donate to and keep it going, then I would be without shelter. If there was no one anywhere to provide me shelter, I could no longer be a monastic. The same goes with food,clothing and medicine, which come either directly from people helping the monastic out or out of general funds donated to Bhavana for these purposes. Then of course there is clothing. The basic monastic clothing is a very simple three robe and a shirt affair, although it gets more complicated when it comes to winter clothing and the like.

The great thing about the Buddhist setup is that because I am beholden to the lay community, if I am a bad monk or don’t fulfill my end of the bargain, they can(and should) stop supporting me. A Buddhist monk is not supposed to be above reproach and untouchable. A Buddhist monk is not supposed to be able to hide behind a large institution that will hide what they’ve done wrong and shelter them, giving them a lifetime tenure of safety regardless of how they act. Of course there are places in the Buddhist world where this is EXACTLY what happens, because life is not perfect, but it wasn’t originally setup this way.

The Great Maha Kassapa, my favorite disciple of the Buddha, said that “he ate the countries alms food a debtor” until he became awakened. I am given these four requisites by lay persons, and this is a debt to be repaid. How does a monastic repay their debt? By striving in the practice, and teaching what they’ve learned. By being an example of the Buddha’s path for others to follow, which of course does not mean being perfect, but honestly striving with confidence, humility, and endurance. This is what I plan to do to the best of my ability.

So with that explained, back to my own experience and the reason for this post. Keep in mind that this post isn’t some kind of veiled attempt to “get” anything or claim that I am in need of anything. This is also not meant to dissuade those who want to help make sure I have everything I need. In this post I want to continue my plan of documenting experiences on the path, showing insight into the mind-states and thoughts that arise on the path of renunciation.

So what happens when I hear “what do you need?”? As stated above a slight feeling of dread arises as this is quite a complicated question and I am often unsure as to the proper answer. There are also feelings of joy in witnessing someone wanting to perform an act of good will and generosity. This is a brand new experience I often times don’t know WHAT I need, so I’ve spoken with the other monastics here about how they handle the situation.

When I hear “what do you need” a balancing act comes up in the mind between asking for what I truly need, and what I don’t REALLY need but want. Between trying to ensure I do have everything I need, but not appearing to ask for too much or be a burden on those kind and generous enough to ask. In the end I’ve given people a few choices between helping me acquire clothing for winter, and the monastics in general needing more cloth for robes and the like, as most premade robes are not made for westerners and don’t fit well. I will be making my own robe as a monastic in the near future, something I am greatly looking forward to as a connection with the Bhikkhus of old who did such.

Another aspect of the mind in the process of renunciation, is the great American concept of self-reliance, which is a great skill for anyone to have, including monastics who often have to make do with what little they have. This however can also lead to thoughts such as “oh I’m going to need shirts, oh and a winter hat, and this or that; but what if no one asks and its winter and I’m cold! I know I can spend money now so I can make a “gift to myself” and buy these things with my own money!”.

I have always been self-reliant, never needing much help from others, and unskillfully not taking it when I DID need the help. This is something however that I’ve worked on greatly for the past half-decade and that I continue to work on as I move towards becoming a monastic. Totally letting go and REALLY allowing your life to be in someone else’s hands is quite a scary concept, but one truly essential to the life of a renunciant.

Of course then once I purchased the items I feel guilty because my own fear has led to me denying someone else the benefit of practicing generosity with me. Monastics are said to be a “field of merit”. Meaning that lay persons can practice generosity and freely giving by helping out the monks, which in turn also leads to the lay person sowing the fruits of being able to “let go” more and more themselves. Fear however has led to me robbing others of that opportunity, but since this fear is rooted in one of the most basic survival instincts, it is deep and pervasive in the human psyche. For this reason I am kind, forgiving and not too hard with myself.

I’ve heard it said that the more you give up, the more you get, and I see the wisdom in that statement as I ever so slowly move towards its acceptance, it will take some time.