歲月 1
大家好！
讀者們很好奇，還沒有寫到我的父母。
前面文章說過，我外公家也是賓客往來頻繁的，外公家當時是有長工的，是比我們的家族更富有的。
印象中我的兩位大舅媽（大妗）除了能幹還賢淑是那個時代女人的典範，
那時候公務人員的薪水太少，
我大舅有人請他當高中校長，他覺得種香蕉比較有錢賺，所以沒有去當公務人員。二舅跟政治圈較有緣。
我媽有三個姐妹，但是他們在那種優厚的家族長大上有兩個能幹的哥、嫂頂著，基本上也算大小姐，外公外婆都是屬於沉默寡言的老人。
我媽嫁到我們的家族是沒有長工的，
而且我爸是排行老三，伯父們的小孩都長大，她是比較辛苦的。
我媽忙不過來的時候，阿公會炒飯給我們吃，所以小時候也常吃他做的炒飯。
我爸他們三個兄弟坦白講在我眼裡都是平庸的，
雖然他們沒有敗家，但我在阿公跟他兒子身上一直是適應不良的，
阿公以強人的姿態取代了一切的照顧是不是讓我的失落感更大？
我阿嬤的家族更大，小時候都跟著她穿梭在一堆家族間的宴會，那個時代的鄉下貴婦的生活也認識一些，至今她的家族成員還是活躍在枱面上。
阿嬤的神情也讓我對社會地位有了認識。
當然我媽的超薦事誼也早完成。
感謝佛法的千真萬確助我修行有成，
也以佛法的布施回饋一切。
半寄
The Passage of Time 1
Hello, everyone!
Readers have been curious as to why I
haven’t written about my parents yet.
As I mentioned before, my maternal
grandfather’s home was always filled with guests. Their family was wealthier
than ours and even had long-term hired workers. I remember my two eldest aunts
(my mother’s brothers’ wives) as hardworking and virtuous, true role models of
their time.
Back then, government salaries were too
low. My eldest uncle was offered a job as a high school principal, but he
thought growing bananas would be more profitable, so he declined. My second
uncle on the other hand, had stronger ties to the political world.
My mother had three sisters. Growing up in
such a privileged family with two capable older brothers and their wives taking
charge, she was, in a way, a pampered daughter. My maternal grandparents were
quiet and reserved.
When my mother married into our family,
there were no hired workers. My father was the third son, and since my uncles’
children were already grown, my mother had a harder time. When she was too
busy, my grandfather would cook fried rice for us, so we often ate his fried
rice as children.
To be honest, in my eyes, my dad and his
two brothers are all quite ordinary.
Although they didn’t ruin the family, I have
always been unaccommodated with both my grandfather and his sons. Did my grandfather’s dominance, which
replaced all forms of care, make my sense of loss even greater?
My grandmother came from an even larger
family. As a child, I often accompanied her to family banquets, where I learned
about the lifestyle of upper-class rural women of that era. Even today, her
family members are still socially active.
Whenever my grandmother rode a rickshaw, I
could see a sense of pride on her face, as if her husband had provided her with
a stable life and social status. That expression shaped my understanding of
social standing.
I became a Buddhist practitioner early in
life. My mother passed away nearly 20 years ago, and my father is still alive.
However, I have little connection with my paternal relatives, as I don’t get
along with my brothers. My mother’s memorial rites were completed long
ago.
I am deeply grateful for the truth of
Buddhism, which has guided my path, and I give back through sharing the Dharma.
Banji
歲月2
我受出家戒時，跟我同時受戒的出家眾，
邀我在受戒完陪她回家，
她「出家」後還沒有回過家。
她是台中人，我跟她去他們家，她們家也是望族，她媽媽看到她時，沒哭！
給她戴一頂帽子，帶去給爺爺看，很明顯的她媽媽非常尊重她的阿公，
她阿公已經高齡八十幾，瞧了一眼沒有看出端倪，
繼續埋頭吃他的飯、看報紙、喝一點小酒，
她們家ㄧ樣阿公是強人，
這一幕讓我對我的阿公給的生活落差釋懷！
離開她家後，她陪我去看一個在斗南殘障手工培訓所，
那邊有我在天主教教會認識的朋友，她在我出家不久堅持去看我，因而到我們的精舍住了一夜，
早上我去看她，因為她腳殘障不方便還在床上，我想扶她起來，竟然摸到整個枕頭都濕掉！（哭了一夜）
簡直把我嚇壞！一直到現在
回憶起來還是心驚，她大概也悲她的遭遇。
那一次我去斗南看過她以後，就都沒有再見！
都在我剛出家那幾天，出乎意料的，教堂的主持德國神父跟修女3人跑去精舍找我，近80歲的神父大概以為我會去當修女，表情明顯的失落，我不敢看他。他指指車子想挽回。
1980年16歲的我時常拿看不懂的《尼采》去問他，尼采沒討論出什麼來，倒是他總是想辦法讓我知道他們的出家生活，
修女們因為他的關係對我想問的問題也都很熱心的回應。
（應該是那時候我阿公往生，同年看起尼采）
之前，他們出去怖道也會特意到我家去看我，
神父一直期待我從天主教的私立高中畢業後當修女。
我對神父、修女根本沒有概念，腦袋裝的都是我想知道的事而已，壓根沒想過別人的生活與看法。
或者我在那樣的環境成長一直不知天高地厚。
沒想到有一次他邀請我去高雄的其他教區看天主教堂的活動，我才知道他的地位很高！
神父大概覺得我不在意他，（好像有些人對我都是這種印象，但我滿腦子都在想我想明白的事情。）
那時候我已經在看佛經，不敢跟他講。
而自始至終我都沒有成為天主教徒。
有些時候，我以為只是去那裡玩一玩，像我打網球一樣。
我父母對於我的出走，當然也是很傷心！這個就不講了！
再來跟我同受戒的這位出家眾，我們也沒有再見過面，各奔前程。
半寄
The Passage of Time 2
After I took my monastic vows, a fellow nun
who ordained at the same time invited me to visit her home with her after the
ceremony. She had not returned home since becoming a Buddhist nun.
She was from Taichung, and her family was
from a prestigious background. When we arrived, her mother placed a hat on her
head before taking her to see her grandfather. It was clear that her mother had
great respect for him.
Her grandfather was already in his
eighties. He glanced at her but didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.
Instead, he continued eating his meal, reading the newspaper, and sipping a
little wine. Just like in my own family, the grandfather in her home was also a
strong-willed figure. Seeing this scene helped me let go of the disappointment
I once felt about my own grandfather.
After leaving her home, she accompanied me
to visit a training and shelter center for people with disabilities in DouNan.
I had a friend there whom I had met through the Catholic Church. Not long after
I ordained, she had stayed overnight at our monastery.
The next morning, when I went to see her,
she was still in bed due to her physical disability. I wanted to help her up,
but when I touched her pillow, I realized it was completely soaked—she had
cried all night! It terrified me. Even now, when I think back, I still feel
uneasy. She must have been mourning her own fate.
That was the last time I saw her.
In the days just after I became a nun,
something unexpected happened—the German Parish priest and three nuns from the
church came to the monastery to see me. The priest, who was nearly 80 years
old, probably thought I was going to become a nun in their order. His
expression was visibly filled with disappointment, and I didn’t dare to look at
him.
Back in 1980, when I was 16, I often took
Nietzsche’s works—books I couldn’t understand—to him with questions. Our
discussion of Nietzsche didn’t help me figure out Nietzsche much, but he always
found ways to tell me about their monastic life.
Because of him, the nuns were also very
warm and eager to answer my questions.
(I probably started reading Nietzsche that
same year because my grandfather passed away.)
Before that, whenever they went out to
preach, they would sometimes stop by my house to visit me. The priest had
always hoped that after graduating from my Catholic high school, I would become
a nun.
At that time, I had no real understanding
of priests or nuns. My mind was only filled with things I wanted to figure
out—I never thought about other people’s expectations.
One day, he took me to another diocese in
Kaohsiung to observe Catholic activities. It was only then that I realized he
held a high position in the Church. He probably felt that I didn’t regard him
with the respect he expected. (Many people seem to have this impression of me,
but my mind was simply occupied with my own thoughts.)
By then, I had already started reading
Buddhist scriptures, but I didn’t dare tell him.
And from beginning to end, I never became a
Catholic.
These two painful experiences made me
afraid to get too close to people, for fear of hurting them. Sometimes, I
thought I was just going there for fun, like playing tennis for a while.
Of course, my parents were heartbroken as
well—but that’s another story.
As for the fellow nun who invited me to her
home, we never met again. We each went our own way.
Banji
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