A: That’s right. They say this kind of thing happens to help you dissipate your karma. I was so moved by the ceremony that I kept crying. It was a bit embarrassing, crying like a child. And afterward I decided to become a monk. When you first hear the dawn ceremony at Tongdosa Temple, it’s incredibly moving, almost mystical. While other temples perform the Ritual of Seven Prostrations, Tongdosa—in keeping with the founding principles of Vinaya Master Jajang—performs the Ritual of Eleven Prostrations. The ceremony is truly majestic

A: No. I didn’t know anything about Buddhism. When I was in school, I only knew of two temples: Haeinsa and Bulguksa. Then, by chance, a senior student at my school, who had recently spent some time at Tongdosa Temple, introduced me to this place, and that’s how I first came here.

A: In the past, if you did well in school, people would say, “Study for the bar exam!” It’s true. Like most people, I loved reading books from a young age. Because I loved reading, I studied a lot. Studying requires lots of reading. Even after I became a monk and later studied in the monastic college, I studied just as diligently as anyone else.

A: That is, as they say, “fake news.” (laughing) I was young when I began teaching. Back when my teacher was still alive, he would point out each and every student’s mistakes. For example, in the late 1970s, you were not supposed to miss morning and evening Buddhist ceremonies. One day, a student didn’t show up and was found sleeping in a small room. There was no American-made axe handle there (laughing), so I went in with a piece of firewood and struck the thick blanket he was under, causing his forehead to bleed. Still, he put on his monastic robe and came to my room to repent. It’s not like that these days. I would rather be beaten up myself. But back then, discipline was strict in mountain temples, and there were elders to enforce it.

A: As you age, you become more mellow. If you remain rigid even as you age, you’re living wrong. You don’t have to strive to become more compassionate, but it just happens naturally. As you age, just treat others more gently and with compassion, and smile. That’s my Dharma talk to everyone. An elderly person’s smile is a Dharma talk of a hundred ages. Just know that. Don’t live with a frown. A good face can be distorted by that.

A: Times have their own appropriate disciplines. There are times when things should be done a certain way. The times decide what is possible or impossible. It’s truly fascinating. Even individual capacities change. In the old days, there were strict rules and regulations in all the mountain temples, but these days, it’s no longer so. Those times are gone. That’s why they say one must try to see the causes and conditions of the times. … (laughing) … I led a really hard life at Tongdosa Temple in my youth. I don’t think anyone had a harder life than me.

Buddhism, enlightenment... In Seon (Chan/Zen), it’s about “seeing one’s true nature, seeing one’s mind ground.” To put it in Western terms, it’s about confirming one’s identity. Who am I? Confirming this is to see one’s true nature, or enlightenment. So, it’s a study of learning about myself, of knowing myself.

If we were to talk about all the scriptures, the Avatamsaka Sutra is the greatest. If I were to pick out one core phrase from the Avatamsaka Sutra, it would be “The mind creates our reality.” From Early Buddhism to Mahayana Buddhism, all Buddhism emphasizes the principle that mind creates our reality. The principle that mind creates our reality is about finding our origin. Everything arises from the mind, so joy, sorrow, and suffering are equal. In a broader sense, everything is created by the mind, so in reality, this thing is the same as that thing. We often struggle and agonize over our choices. Hamlet’s soliloquy, “To be, or not to be? That is the question.” However, one of Buddha’s ten major disciples, Sariputra, also known as the “master of wisdom,” expressed a completely opposite sentiment: “I wish neither to live nor to die.” If you don’t wish to live or die, you have nothing to desire. What could someone who doesn’t wish to live or die possibly desire? Therefore, Hamlet’s soliloquy, when compared to Sariputra’s, is absurd. It’s downright childish.

The Sutta Nipata is the oldest collection of sutras and contains only very simple phrases. It’s like the original recording of the Buddha’s first teachings, a sutra with his living voice. The Dhammapada is also available as an anthology of poetry. There are also many translated versions of the Agamas. Mahayana Buddhism also has the Mahayana Awakening of Faith. It’s an introductory text, which I also recommend reading.

Just one? (laughing) Commentary on the Diamond Sutra was originally published in 2010, but I revised it slightly later, adding a “story section” at the end to make Buddhism more accessible and less boring. I recommend reading that book. Then, this past spring I published Jian Seunim’s Lectures on the Srimaladevisimhanada-sutra. I wrote it with the intention of recommending it to all Buddhists. I recommend it to anyone who wants to understand Mahayana Buddhism more precisely.

Well, I’m the champion in that. I’ve been teaching monks the longest. I’ve lectured to monks for about 40 years—20 years at Tongdosa Temple, 10 years at Eunhaesa Temple, and 3 years at Jikjisa Temple. Regardless of my strengths and weaknesses in teaching, I believe I’ve been doing it longer than anyone else I know.

They don’t ask good questions. (laughing) They ask useless questions, like, “Why did you become a monk?”

Someone once came to me and asked, “How can I live comfortably in this world?” I said, “Okay, ‘how can I live comfortably?’ Don’t lose sight of that thought. ‘I must continue to live comfortably.’ If you keep that thought in mind, the time will come when you will feel comfortable.” That’s what I said. But he couldn’t understand. If you want something, want it with good intentions and observe closely, and eventually that time will come. It may sound completely absurd, but it makes sense. What you want will definitely come. In scriptures like the Diamond Sutra, there’s a phrase, “Surrender your mind.” It means to let go of the mind that gives rise to afflictions. I feel pain, anxiety, restlessness, and dissatisfaction. These feelings that arise in the mind must go. If you let go of the mind from which these feelings arise, you’ll feel at ease. But that isn’t easy. However, with practice, there comes a time when you can let that mind go, although it’s different for each person. The Avatamsaka Sutra says, “Use your mind well.” The Diamond Sutra says “Surrender your mind” although it’s the same mind. Buddhism is simple. Practice isn’t a big deal. If you “surrender your mind,” or “use your mind well,” that’s it. You are done. But it’s not easy, and that’s the problem. However, the Buddha still became the Buddha.

“If I abandon myself, I return to my true self.” This is a golden saying I coined. Abandoning myself means letting go of selfobsession. Obsession is a disease. Another way to say “abandoning myself” is “leaving myself.” When I leave myself, where do I go? Towards my true self...! Another saying is, “Wherever you go, it’s the same place you started from. Wherever you arrive, it’s the same place you started from.” The admonishment to let go of one’s attachments is found throughout the Mahayana sutras. Letting go of attachments is to let go of the self. Because we prioritize the “self” above all else, attachments keep arising. Letting go of the attachment to oneself is crucial. Only then can we genuinely begin spiritual practice.

There’s a forest all around here. And there are trees. I spend a lot of time walking. I look at the mountains, the trees, the clouds in the sky... Just looking at them brings me great joy. Rousseau said, “Return to nature.” As I ponder those words, I think, “I have returned to nature.” Scripture isn’t limited to books with words. The entirety of Mt. Yeongchuksan is a scripture. Every view from the mountain, every tree standing on every slope, is like a scripture, I think. That’s when my mind feels peaceful and light. And then, I feel like I have a good life.

Originally, the word “Sangha” meant a group of people who live together in harmony, sharing the same thoughts, pursuing essential matters, leaving aside non-essential matters. In Korea, when monks join the monastic community, they often go to a mountain temple. Their secular environment and lifestyle are transformed. The Korean Sangha is a tranquil place with a beautiful natural environment, clear water, and clean air. Furthermore, they have the habit of waking up early in the morning, eating a primarily vegetarian diet, and remaining celibate throughout their lives. Living in this environment is a spiritual treasure. In that sense, the Sangha holds immense value and significance. As the world becomes increasingly turbulent and chaotic, it’s truly meaningful to have a place where one can maintain a sense of peace and clarity—not just physically but also spiritually.