Blessings, Rin Gong!
I’ve been reflecting on a series of events that unfolded yesterday at Serenity Tibet in Boulder, Colorado. I’m proud of Master Teacher Suren Shrestha for his grace and generosity in this exchange. I’m not sure how often master teachers receive vocalized validation for their actions so credit where credit is due.
Amongst the plethora of singing bowls and other Himalayan instruments around the warehouse in Boulder, are a handful of sacred sound instruments that don’t elicit the same amount of attention or esteem as the Himalayan singing bowls and gongs. A prime example of that is the Japanese “rin gong.” Unlike a bronze Himalayan singing bowl, these instruments are more known for their independent invitations of sound (as opposed to "singing") for ceremony and meditation. They’re commonly found in temples and are typically accompanied by large wooden temple blocks carved like coy fish or dragons. We only have a few of rin gongs on hand in our warehouse, and I’ve always kept my eye on the 16” because its presence is both obvious and accompanied by deeply serene energy. They are forgotten beauties. When I play it, I immediately get a sense of cherry blossom and aloeswood aromatics. It’s easy to visualize mountain mist and calm coy ponds.
Note to self: take photos of yourself with the large, unusual instruments because someday you might have a cool story related to that instrument but then you have to rely on an old photo of a different rin gong taken in a faraway land a lifetime ago. In this case: a large temple rin gong sits at the base of the Jade Buddha in Anshan, China (Dec. 24, 2011).
Here’s how this situation yesterday played out:
A client came to the warehouse on recommendation of a mutual friend to search for a singing bowl that would help contribute and elevate the energy of an Aspen vacation home that was recovering from some energetic trauma on the property. The new owners of the home hired this individual to work his interior design magic and also cleanse and prepare the home, energetically. There was enough residual negative energy to cause the house to have an "uneasy vibe” and it sat on the market for a long time before the new owners committed to revitalizing the space.
This particular designer (American) has a background as an ordained monk in the Himalayas so he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with some of the ceremonial uses of sacred sound but needed some guidance on narrowing down a bowl for the home. What caught his eye immediately was a medium-sized rin gong, which in our warehouse is akin to finding a little black needle in a massive gold haystack.
I immediately introduced him to the large rin gong we have, knowing his intention was not only to have a utilitarian bowl to help hold and cleanse the space but to also have a zen-design aesthetic. That’s rin gong in spades.
So we pull the bowl down from its perch and I walk him through a bit about the instrument, its history and uses. We send a video to his clients. Bam! (or rather, “Gonggg!”)…they’re hooked. Of course they are. It’s a phenomenal and unique bowl.
The day goes by, and invoicing paperwork, etc., goes through its normal process. By the time the client is back to purchase, our master teacher, Surenji, is out of class and checking up on the daily goings-on at the warehouse. As soon as he sees the large rin gong out, he regretfully informs us that the singing bowl is not for sale. It’s a special piece, the artist isn’t producing them anymore, and he was resistant to selling it. However, Surenji decided, “I’ll reach out to the artist. If we can convince him to make one more bowl for us, I’ll be willing to let this singing bowl go to its new home in Aspen.”
Here’s where the aforementioned grace and mindfulness comes into action. From a meditation standpoint, we train and watch for attachment. Attachment leads to suffering. This is a cornerstone of Buddhist sutras. Now, it’d be one thing if we used this singing bowl everyday in our own ceremony at Atma Buti® or if someone made an offer because they were producing a Jet Li film and they needed an authentic instrument to destroy in an epic fight scene. However, this specific situation–positive transformation–is what these instruments are made for! They put harmony into the air. They are teachers and guardians. They help us connect with both the present and the infinite. And Surenji has countless anecdotes about instruments finding their way to a new home or owner in an organic way, because “they were meant to” or it was “divine’s will.” I could see this dilemma on his face and was happy to gift him the requested space to meditate on what he wanted to do.
In the end, Surenji realized that this situation was unique and through this instrument there was an opportunity to bring peace of mind and harmony to a tormented home. At the end of the day, that’s where the instrument would be best put to use: not as a coveted showpiece on a dusty warehouse shelf out of sight, but in a meditation-inspired, indoor zen garden, helping a family feel at home in both the house and in their mindfulness practice. By letting go of attachment to the rin gong, we honor not only the verbal accord with the client but also the intention of the artist and of the role of these instruments in our lives.
I’m extremely proud of him and grateful to see his wisdom in action. He saw his attachment and he skillfully responded with grace and compassion. Instruments will come and go, just like people or teachers or resources, and so on. No need to force. No need to fight. Relax and let divine flow. I believe this bowl recognized an opportunity to do good. It saw where it would best serve its purpose and it made itself known. It volunteered "as tribute." It put itself out there to do its best in a tough situation. Mindful action as taught by a beautiful singing bowl. I hope we all recognize and capitalize on those opportunities to share our power for positive transformation in our own lives.