Art by Margaret Loftin Whiting
It was deep in the dark and quiet hours as the third watch of the night was approaching. The venerable monk Subhuti looked about the garden. All of the assemblage was asleep, except for the World Honored One who was in a deep state of communion, where he offered his teaching to the gods of the many worlds. Subhuti smiled and prepared for his own rest. Here in Anathapindink’s garden in Jeta Grove in the city of Shravasti, monks and nuns from all over India were gathered to hear the teachings of the Great Teacher, Shakyamuni. As usual, the rounds of questioning had continued well into the evening, as all of the 1250 gathered here thirsted for the knowledge of the Buddha’s Path. Now the fragrance of the garden’s flowers drifted across the unconscious host.
Subhuti’s head had no more than touched the ground, when he was startled upright by a tremendous clamor. Looking into the shadows at the entrance of the garden, he saw a strange figure staggering among the sleeping bodies. Whoever this clumsy being was, they knocked against body after sleeping body, alternately kicking the sleeper and stumbling forward toward the next unconscious form. Those being kicked jumped up frightened out of their comfortable sleep.
Subhuti too jumped up and ran towards the intruder, not knowing what intentions he or she might have. As he approached, he saw that the figure was thin and covered with mangy fur. It was not a human form at all, but that of a four-legged creature, although it wobbled back and forth in a strange mimicry of a human gait. “Who are you and why have you come here to this garden so late at night to disturb our rest?”
“Hey, brother what is up with you? I just walked a long way to be here.” Subhuti was now close enough to see that the creature standing grotesquely before him was a pathetically emaciated coyote.
“I am Subhuti, the senior monk here. Who are you Brother?”
“Sub-boo-tay, did you say that your name was Sub-boo-tay? Well, Brother Boo-tay I am Coyote, pleased to make your acquaintance. Say, what have you got going on here? Who are all these two-leggeds?”
“Brother Coyote, these are the monks and nuns who have come to spend the rainy season listening to the teachings of the World Honored One, Shakyamuni Buddha.”
“No way,” Coyote replied. “Shakyamuni, is he here?” If this Shakyamuni is World Honored, then these twoleggeds must be eating well, Coyote thought. He had quickly surmised that this was a good place to be. “Whoa, check out all those chicks with the robes and the shaved heads, very kinky. That must be why they call you Boo-tay.”
“Sub-hu-ti. My name is Subhuti and what do you want with the Buddha?” Coyote paused, he definitely wanted to stay here a while.
“Oh,” he stammered “I have come for the teaching.”
“Then you are a disciple who follows the teachings of the Buddha’s path?” Subhuti asked incredulously.
“Naturally, say what time is breakfast around this place?” Coyote quickly changed the subject.
“The meal time will come soon, but let us rest now Brother Coyote.” As Subhuti lay down, he thought that of all the strange things he had witnessed since leaving home and embracing the Buddha’s Way, this encounter was perhaps the strangest. As for Coyote, he drifted off slowly, contemplating the prospects for a substantial breakfast, as well as fantasizing about all the possibilities that a nubile disciple with a bald head could offer. In the third watch of the night Shakyamuni too rested, having satisfied the questions of all those from many worlds.
The Buddha arose, donning his simple patchwork robe and preparing to go into the city to beg for food. All around the garden his disciples did likewise. As they gathered, there was no obvious way to distinguish the World Honored One from his followers, for the Buddha truly lived his life like any simple monk or nun. The groups of disciples began to head out through the various garden gates, scattering in small groups throughout the city.
As they did, Shakyamuni turned to Subhuti. “O’ Venerable Subhuti, I heard a new arrival come into the garden during the night. Where is that newcomer this morning?”
Subhuti suddenly remembered Coyote and turned to see where he was, but Coyote was not in sight. “World Honored One, I will look about the garden for our visitor,” Subhuti went off to search.
In a corner, under a hedge Subhuti saw what he thought was a pile of robes. That was strange, since none of the monks or nuns would be so untidy as to leave their robes in a heap. However, as he came closer Subhuti saw the vague outline of a figure under the pile. “Brother Coyote, are you alright. The dawn has come and it is the time for us to go into the city and beg for our food.”
“Beg!” Coyote shot upright, rubbing his eyes. “I must have been dreaming Subhuti; I thought I heard you say that we were going to beg.”
“Yes, Brother Coyote, I did.”
“No, there must be some mistake. This four-legged doesn’t beg and besides I thought that you have the World Honored One, the Great Teacher Shakyamuni Buddha here. You have to be eating good. Come on Subbie, what gives? Don’t want to share your stash? Very cold dude, I thought you were spiritual?”
“Brother Coyote, there is no stash here. At the mealtime the Buddha and all of the disciples here in the garden go off into the city asking the residents for just enough food to sustain us. The people in the city don’t even know which of the monks is the Honored Teacher. We respect and love our teacher, but no one among us is better than another, all must beg to eat.”
Coyote saw his vision of the easy life dissipating. “Say Subhuti, what is with that ugly robe? You look bad Brother. Where is your pride?”
“We make these robes from the cloth that we salvage from the bodies of the dead. Each monk carefully washes what they can save and sews them into a patchwork. This is our way Brother Coyote, we do not attach to the things of this world and use only what little we need to live.”
“Nasty! Dead bodies you say,” Coyote grimaced, shaking his head in disgust.
At that moment Shakyamuni came over to where Subhuti and the newcomer were standing. “Subhuti, is this our new arrival?”
“Yes, World Honored One. This is our brother Coyote.”
Shakyamuni turned to Coyote and smiled. “Welcome Brother Coyote. Will you join me this morning on our walk through the city?” Coyote was unable to speak. Perhaps it was the Buddha’s smile that had penetrated to the very core of his being, making him momentarily mute. He quickly regained his composure, however. There had to be some scam here. If he hung out with Shakyamuni, he would figure it out.
The Buddha kneeled carefully, picking up his bowl. Subhuti handed a bowl to Coyote and the small entourage headed out of the shelter into the steady rain. As they walked, the Buddha explained to Coyote about the Precepts and how anyone following them was living the life of a Buddha. Each time they stopped at a house, Shakyamuni waited until everyone else had been served before stepping forward with his bowl. Each time he received an offering, he bowed deeply thanking the keeper of the kitchen. So it went, until each person had filled their bowl with fragrant rice, curried lentils and occasionally a precious chunk of meat. They returned to the garden, dripping wet and each sat in their place ready to eat. Their faces were radiant with gratitude for the sustenance they had received.
A stunned Coyote just sat contemplating his bowl, in spite of the fact that he was emaciated and ravenously hungry. He had not detected any scam at all. As he sat there in silence, one of the nuns came over and taking a piece of meat out of her bowl, placed it in Coyote’s. Several more of the assemblage did likewise until Coyote’s bowl was overflowing with juicy morsels of meat. Coyote was even more mystified. These twoleggeds were very strange indeed.
Just then Coyote heard some rustling beneath his seat. He looked down and saw a pair of field mice, a shrew and an assortment of creepy crawlies, (ants, cockroaches and their many-legged brethren). “What are you vermin doing there? Get on out of here and let me eat in peace,” Coyote snarled.
“Brother Coyote, we don’t wish to disturb you. This is how we exist among the assemblage here. We wait beneath the seats of the bodhisattva-mahasattvas for some crumbs to fall. Thus we too are sustained.” Coyote began shoveling the food into his mouth, being careful not to spill a drop. He had waited a long time for this meal and he wasn’t going to share it with this mélange of misfits.
As he ate he looked over at Shakyamuni. The Teacher was surrounded by more of the tiny creatures than anyone else. As he ate, the World Honored One preached the Dharma to the miniature assemblage. Also, it appeared that with each mouthful, more food dropped to the mouths below than actually made it into the Buddha’s body. Coyote wondered how this Great Teacher could be so sloppy and careless when he ate.
Subhuti had finished eating and went over to the fountain to wash out his bowl. As he did, Coyote leapt to his feet calling out Subhuti’s name. Always clumsy when he rose to his back legs and stood like a two-legged, Coyote lurched and began to fall. He caught himself just before he crashed to the ground, but his bowl of food was not so fortunate, splattering across the floor. “Shit,” Coyote cried out. “Look at my goddamn food now. I can’t eat that shit from the floor.” Of course, the mice, shrews and creepycrawlies had no such sensibility and proceeded to devour the mess. Coyote just stomped off, sputtering and swearing about the loss of the rest of his meal.
Shakyamuni called Subhuti to his side. “So Subhuti, what did you just see?”
“O Noble One, I witnessed the truth of your teaching that Buddha nature pervades everywhere.”
“Yes, Subhuti your sight is growing keen.”
