Chapter 44: Presence, Conscious Awareness, and Sexual Energy

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For the past few months you may be aware that every Wednesday I’ve been serializing a chapter from THE BOOK, then offering a “Sunday short post” (sometimes on a Saturday).

Please find below the next chapter in the story of the Thai Forest Buddhist monastery taking root across the road from our home, from PART THREE of THE BOOK.

I have changed our monk friend’s name to protect his privacy.

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Chapter 44: Presence, Conscious Awareness, and Sexual Energy

The Thai Forest Buddhist monks across the road here in Temple, New Hampshire, each live in a small, one-room “kuti” (pronounced koo-tee.) As of 2023, seventeen kutis are dotted throughout the woods on their approximately 250 acres of land. Most kutis are built of wood, are well insulated for New England winters, and some have an outside walking-meditation path. None of the kutis have kitchens or bathrooms; the monks eat in the main house where the Sala is, and they use the bathrooms in various other houses on their property.

Source: https://forestmonastery.org/projects

But back in May 2017, before all the kutis had yet been built, PJ had a different idea.

“Yeah, Ahjan Jayanto gave me the green light to build a yurt,” he said. We sat outside on our deck drinking lattes and enjoying the warmer temperatures. As usual, PJ sat relaxed in his chair, with his shaven head and eyebrows, and his saffron colored robe wrapped around him.

“Oh wow, a yurt would be fun! Whereabouts exactly are you thinking?” I asked.

“Up the hill behind Jessen Road on the northwest corner of the property. About a twenty-minute walk up hill from the Sala,” he said.

“So you’ll have some daily exercise built into your commute,” I said with a grin. They all gather in the Sala for their 5 a.m. and 7 p.m. Pujas (meditation practice) and an early breakfast, then after their work period, supporters bring in food for their 11 a.m. meal.

“Yep. A daily walk through the woods in all weather,” he said smiling. “But I still have to get all the material up there.”

“We could help,” Jamie offered.

After we finished our lattes, the three of us piled into Jamie’s Rhino — a hunter green, four-wheel-drive, all-terrain vehicle the size of a golf cart, with a generous cargo bed in the back. Jamie drove, I sat next to him, and PJ stood in the back holding onto the metal frame. We drove up the road, passed the houses on the monastery’s land, and within a few minutes, we arrived at a clearing that served as a landing pad for the other kutis being built in the woods. Several blue tarpaulins had been pulled back to reveal wood planks, cement blocks, chain saws, a trailer, and a second-hand wood-burning stove for PJ’s yurt. 

After discussing which items needed to go up to the site of the yurt, we realized we’d need to make several trips. First, we loaded up the back of the Rhino with shorter planks of wood. To maximize how much we could take up in one run, PJ hitched the monastery’s trailer to the back of the Rhino. To make it possible to load in longer wood planks, we could remove either the front or the back section of the trailer. Jamie began to take off the back section.

“Wait a second,” I said. “Shouldn’t we take off the front section instead, so the planks won’t slip out the back of the trailer as we drive up the hill?” 

“No, this will work,” he said. 

From my perspective, Jamie did not want to be corrected, nor told by me what to do. Both Jamie and I, at times, can slip into this unconscious reactive habit of resisting whatever the other one says. This can result in bickering — an unconscious negative bonding patterns that is sometimes a casualty of long-term partnerships. Like Eckhart Tolle says, “Families are crucibles for unconscious behavior.” The more history I have with another person, the more unconscious patterns often arise. Ironically, this same pattern of resistance, was how I reacted with my mother when she first suggested I meet Jamie.

PJ paused for a moment. “You know… she has a point,” he said to Jamie.

I couldn’t help but notice how Jamie was able to hear from PJ what he could not hear from me. In that moment I realized that Jamie’s resistance had nothing to do with me personally. It was as though he was rooted in a pattern of unconscious resistance. 

At least when Jamie gained insight into his own resistance, he dropped it. After PJ pointed it out, he saw it made sense to take the front-section off the trailer instead. So he did. 

PJ grinned and said, “Every couple needs a monk.” 

Jamie and I both laughed.

But there is a blessing in spending time with a Buddhist monk — or any human being — whose main objective is to invite presence and conscious awareness into each moment.

In PJ’s more conscious moments, spending time with him invites in a spaciousness, which also invites in more fun and joy. I appreciate the way that PJ’s presence can bring Jamie and me out of our unconscious reactions to each other sometimes.

Later, in conversation on the phone with my friend Melissa in New York City, I told her the story of what happened and how PJ had said, “Every couple needs a monk.”

She laughed and responded, “And every monk needs a couple.” 

I couldn’t help but smile. Yes, there’s truth in that too.

~

But I do appreciate the intention that all of the monks embody, which is to stay in the present moment and be responsible for their own mind — not to blame others for whatever thoughts or feelings arise.

They recognize they cannot control anyone else, they can only control their own response. They make a choice to observe their own mind, rather than identifying with the thoughts that pass through.

“You are the sky, everything else is just the weather.”
— Pema Chodron, an American Tibetan-Buddhist nun. 

PJ is sixteen years younger than Jamie and fourteen years younger than me, and while I enjoyed teasing him that he’s a Millennial monkey, the truth of my experience is that his state of consciousness — and his sense of humor — were transformational at that time in my life. When a person does as much inner work as the monks are willing and want to do, their presence can become a gift. A gift for which I am grateful. I observed in PJ a strong awareness of his own ego, not typical for a 36-year-old man.

Since getting to know PJ and some of the other monks, I became curious about the relationship between a monk’s state of consciousness — including awareness of their own ego — and the extent to which a monk practices renunciation.

Personally, I’m not interested in making the choice to renounce all that they renounce: not being able to make their own food, not eating after 1:00 p.m., no money, no sex, no driving, no entertainment, no digging in the earth to garden (so as not to kill any bugs or earthworms) and the list goes on. However, I am impressed by their presence and their state of consciousness, and if — or how — it may be connected with their choice of renunciation.

Perhaps my own bias is that I have long been suspicious of any faith tradition that insists on celibacy for its priests, monks, nuns, etc. My skepticism comes from the fact that as human beings, our bodies have natural sexual impulses. As the poet Mary Oliver describes in Wild Geese:

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

I’ve observed that if a man denies his sexuality; if he’s unconscious of his sexual feelings; or if he feels shame or guilt as he’s been conditioned that his very normal, natural sexual impulses are “sinful,” then his sexuality may come out sideways — perhaps an example of this is when Catholic priests molest small children. 

When Jamie and I saw the Broadway show, The Book of Mormon, I so appreciated one very funny scene in particular: when they make fun of the way that feelings can be repressed in the song, Turn it Off.

When you start to get confused
Because of thoughts in your head
Don't feel those feelings
Hold them in instead!
Turn it off, like a light switch,
Just go click. It's a cool little Mormon trick.
We do it all the time

When you're feeling certain feelings
That just don't feel right
Treat those pesky feelings like a reading light
And turn 'em off.
Like a light switch, just go "bap"
Really, whats so hard about that?
Turn it off.

From my perspective, this is genius humor. It shines a light on the very human phenomenon of arising sexual feelings, and makes us laugh at the immediate reaction to repress those feelings — just “turn it off.” And there is forgiveness in laughter. This kind of humor helps us to recognize our very human foibles and laugh about them.

Perhaps a more healthy response to any feeling, is to simply observe the feeling: this is anger, this is horniness, this is longing, and to be aware that every single feeling in the human experience arises and passes away. And we get to simply observe the feeling as it arises and then passes away. Not to identify with the feeling or cling to it.

And yes, this is another example of a spiritual principle that’s simple to learn, understand, and practice, but one that seems to take a lifetime (or perhaps many lifetimes) to master.

As the Buddhist monks across the road here are celibate, I cannot help but be curious about their training. Perhaps their ideal is that they are able to feel a sexual feeling, simply observe the feeling, fully experience the feeling, and choose not to act on it, rather than repress it. I have to admit I have not broached this subject with the monks — I’m too chicken. 

But it does make me think about how valuable this kind of training would be for any human being: the practice of being conscious of, and simply observing, whatever feeling may arise and pass away. Making a conscious choice to truly feel the feeling — not being worried about sin or guilt — and through studying world religions, I was fascinated to learn the original meaning of the word “sin” in Aramaic is “to miss the mark.”

In making a conscious choice about whether or not to act on the feeling — and that includes all of our feelings — those we may label positive, and those we may label negative: anger, hate, lust, greed, shame, fear, guilt, grief, etc. Whatever label we apply of positive or negative, all feelings are simply a natural, normal, part of the human experience. Some feelings may be pleasant, some unpleasant, some neutral. But in all cases, I practice remembering that all feelings arise, and they pass away. “This too shall pass.”

Simply from growing up in the West, I have been culturally conditioned to deny or feel shame about any emotion that may be labeled negative; rather than to simply feel the feeling for the 90-seconds it lasts, and allow it to pass. This is what anger feels like. This is what hate feels like. This is what grief feels like. This 90-second duration of a feeling is written about extensively by the neuroanatomist, Jill Bolte Taylor in her book, My Stroke of Insight. And that 90-second duration includes all feelings.

In essence, this is a very simple practice, but say, for example, with anger: of course the challenge is to not be reactive. It seems to take many, many, many hours of practice to be able to remember, in the heat of the moment, to feel the feeling and mindfully respond, rather than unconsciously react.

But further to the subject of celibate monks and the arising of sexual feelings, I was fascinated to hear Pema Chodron discuss the difference between renunciation and repression in her audio book, Bodhisattva Mind: Teachings to Cultivate Courage and Awareness in the Midst of Suffering. 

Not only am I calmed and soothed simply by the sound and tenor of Pema Chodron’s voice, but the topics she discusses are so relevant to my experience with our neighbors.

First she reads aloud:

“VERSE 21: If this is how I act and live, then even in the midst of evil folk, or even with fair women, all is well. My diligent observance of the vows will not decline.”

Then she goes on to discuss this verse,

“Now you have to realize that Shanti Deva’s audience was an audience of celibate monks. And in general, for them, there was a lot of prejudice against women. The women represented horniness, basically. And they were afraid if they got too horny they wouldn’t be able to control it and they’d break their vows. So he’s basically saying here, “Hey guys, you might think the problem is fair women, but really the problem is your mind. And if you work with your mind, you could hang out with playboy bunnies and there wouldn’t be any problem. You might actually enjoy the juice that would arise in your being, but you wouldn’t be swept away. It wouldn’t have to lead, in this case, to the breakage of your celibacy vows.”

Because if you think of it as a room full of people who are committed to being monks and keeping their vows, he’s addressing a problem which, because he addresses it frequently in the text, was clearly a big problem for them, which was their horniness. 

And then on top of that, their prejudice.

But it doesn’t have to be horniness. We always want to blame our uncomfortable states of mind on somebody else. 

And basically he’s saying, you can’t say, “They are bad people, or evil folk, or it’s the women’s fault or the men’s fault.”

You have to take responsibility for your own mind. 

Which is profound and helpful advice.”

This idea of being responsible for my own mind, not blaming someone else for how I’m feeling has been one of the most significant Buddhist principles I’ve learned — and also one of the most challenging to practice. But it does help me to take responsibility for my own thoughts and feelings and not blame the “other.”

This doesn’t mean that I don’t have impact on another person. There is of course cause and effect, and we all impact each other. So it doesn’t take away from being aware of how we may impact another person, but it does emphasize:

I am responsible for how I feel.

Perhaps Pema Chodron is leading the way for all spiritual traditions to be more open about how to work with our very human, normal, natural, sexual feelings.

Perhaps she’s showing people how to have clear, open, and honest conversations without shame, guilt, or repression. About how it’s possible to feel all of our feelings, including sexual feelings, and honor the feelings, and make a conscious and aware choice about whether or not to act on them. 

Hallelujah! It’s about time!

Click to read chapter 46 (the next chapter in this narrative thread)