Seeing Anew

Someone who knows what she’s talking about happened to cross my path, and together we visited a gorgeous old wooden temple near my place on the outskirts of Chiang Mai. It was empty. Yellow petals had fallen from a large flowering tree and covered the parking lot like snow.

My friend pointed out the unusual layout of the wat, and indeed once she said it, the arrangement of the various buildings did strike me as a little different. I might not have noticed otherwise. It struck me that I had a chance to move beyond my usual seen-one-seen-’em-all approach to temple touring.

I determined to be extra observant, in hopes that just maybe I would learn to tell my viharn from my ubosot. We started inside the main structure, pausing to admire carving meant to mimic the shape of the Buddha’s eyebrows (who knew?). I stared at the sloping ceilings as if I’d never been inside a wat before. Do the multiple tiers always telescope that way? I wasn’t sure.

There was still nobody else around. My friend seemed to be x-raying the eaves and gables, concentrating on how well the 20-year-old restoration was holding up. I tried to soften my eyes and pretend I was looking at a song or tasting a massage. Slowly the red lacquered columns holding up the roof began to glow brighter than I thought the limited interior light would allow.

Back outside, we circled a handsome open-sided preaching hall laid out in the shape of a cross. She explained that a sala is normally rectangular. Somehow I knew that before she said it. Perhaps adopting a new worldview isn’t so hard after all.