I Birth a Buddha

I turned 33 yesterday! As a stark reminder of my age, I woke up with an intense new back pain. So it goes.

There’s a Buddhist garden less than a mile away from this farm. It’s a huge space, still under construction, and it centers around a statue of Yum Chenmo (which I learned represents the Great Mother of Transcendent Wisdom). The space is called the Garden of 1,000 Buddhas, and when it’s done it will be decorated with 1,000 Buddha statues, each 2 feet tall. The big news is that the Dalai Llama agreed to visit and consecrate the site after its completion sometime next year. With the promise of his holiness’ presence, construction efforts have been on the upswing, and that includes a pressing need to finish the statues. To stay connected with the community, the monks living at the garden have asked for volunteers to assist in the Buddha-making process.

Yum Chenmo

I was raised Lutheran and still identify as such, but I have a big respect for Buddhism and very much enjoy reading works by the Dalai Llama and other Buddhists teachers (if you’re feeling stressed and have never read the books of Pema Chödrön then I highly recommend it—she’s saved me from going to the nuthouse more than once). With the garden so close, even visible from our orchard, it seemed like a wasted opportunity not to make a statue. After a few quick phone calls, I learned that the only volunteer day that fit my schedule happened to land on my birthday. What better day to birth a Buddha?

Anna, my old Montana friend, was very sweet and took time out of her busy schedule to join me. We picked a few apples to donate to the monks, then drove down the road and entered the infamous Buddha barn.

A super friendly guy named David was our host. He worked during the day as a sales manager for a medical supply company, but lived on the garden premises as a full time volunteer and experienced Buddha-maker. After making his acquaintance, he showed us around.

We saw the concrete casting room, the molds, a table where statues are sanded and patched for finishing touches, and then the storeroom, which I prefer to think of as the waiting room. This is a large space in the barn where completed Buddhas wait for their time to shine. So far, they have about 625 ready to go. I can't say I totally understand the Dalai Llama's consecration ritual, but if he's planning on bringing these things to life then you'd better hope they're on your side.

After the tour, we jumped right into it. Anna and I were each given dust masks and went to work mixing cement. David looked over our shoulders to make sure we did it properly, then showed us how to brush lubricant onto the mold to keep concrete from sticking to it. When that was done, we clamped the two mold haves together as tightly as possible and started piling it full of the fine concrete as David used a vibratron—his name for the vibrating rod—to smooth out air bubbles.

The process was very simple, with the one stipulation being that we had to do it all with positive energy. Anna and I each worked on a mold, and when they were filled we prepared for the finishing touch of inserting the sog shing. This, we learned, is a hand-wrapped package containing precious relics, printed mantras and prayers, incense, flower petals, and fragrant herbs believed to empower the statue with positive energy that will bless anyone who connects with it—and, I suspect, will play a key factor if these things do come to life (remember that in case you find yourself struggling to kill them because it could be the source of their power).

Anna and I each had the privilege of inserting a sog shing into the backbones of our statues before the cement set, and we were instructed to do it only when our minds were clear. When David found out it was my birthday, he told me to channel lots of positive birthday energy into my sog shing insertion. Of course, it was hard not to be positive making a Buddha on my birthday with one of my best friends.

The statues required about 20 hours to set. Anna wasn’t able to return the next day, but I swung by to see the big unveiling. Everyone on the garden was busy getting ready for their annual peace festival, scheduled for three days later, but David pulled himself away to show me my finished product. With a little grunt work, I helped him pull the mold apart to reveal a beautiful little Buddha. He propped it up on the detailing table to knock off the extra cement from the cracks between the molds, then spun it around in the light and told me all that good birthday energy paid off.

Sadly, I won’t be able to identify my Buddha in the garden. I jokingly asked David if I could tell mine apart from the birthday energy it emitted, but he pointed out that egolessness was a key factor behind Buddhist teachings and that the statues were meant to be indistinguishable from each other. I did sneak a little ego flair at the peace festival the following Saturday because they left my birthday Buddha on display for visitors touring the statue-making barn. After that, it joined its fellow Buddha-buddies in the waiting room. Nonetheless, I'm confident that my special birthday energy will compel my statue to protect me when its cohorts rise up to wipe out the human race.

My beautiful birthday Buddha!

Not quite how I thought I'd spend my birthday, and radically different from what I did last year (if you were there then you no doubt know what I mean), but far from disappointing. Today made me wonder where I'll be or what I'll be doing this time next year. I keep reminding myself to follow Pema Chödrön's advice of embracing groundlessness and letting go of expectations. I think it would be very difficult to live as a WWOOFer otherwise.

So far, 33 is kicking ass.

Join them now, before it's too late!