By PEGGY WALLACE

I have a history of walking in others' footsteps, and it tends to be a very meaningful practice for me. It awakens a deeply felt connection to all living beings and brings compassion to life for me. Indeed, I’ve had some of my most meaningful experiences walking in the footsteps of others.

When I visited the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam, you could move aside the false bookcase and climb the very stairs that she took to her family’s hiding place. I stood in those rooms, breathed the air, felt the fear, joy, sadness and anxiety that colored Anne’s days. It was a very profound experience of connection and compassion for me. 

The beach at Normandy in northern France where the famous World War II invasion took place, remains as it was, with barbed wire on the cliffs and bomb craters scattered in the earth. Not many people visit there. So it has a haunted feel, a place where again I could feel the pain, fear, anxiety and sadness that arose there, connecting me once again with heartfelt compassion to a very human experience.  

So when I happened upon the Eleven Directions brochure in FCM’s Friendship Hall last year, the trip “In The Footsteps of The Buddha” jumped out at me, as did the heading “Journeys That Transform.” Was that even possible? Transformation on a tour trip to India? Only one way to find out. Go with four members of the Tampa FCM community (Misti Oxford-Pickeral, Libby Dunn, Tracy Fischer and myself) and Naples FCM member June Hemberger.  We joined other practitioners to set out for India a year later as a “traveling Sangha” of 20 pilgrims led by Dharma teacher Shantum Seth.

Most of the sites we visited were in the middle of bustling cities or towns. The congestion, noise and pollution surrounded us as we approached Deer Park in Sarnath, where the Buddha gave his first teachings. But as we entered the gates, all of that evaporated. A peaceful calm enveloped me with birds chirping, the sky looking bluer, my senses came alive. I stripped off my shoes, and strode barefoot on the same grounds as the Buddha, 2600 years ago. The power of walking in those footsteps was palpable.  

This felt deep connection with the Buddha happened again and again—at Jetavana Grove where (continued from Mindfulness Matters) the Buddha spent many rainy season retreats, at Lumbini where the Buddha was born, at Kushinagar where the Buddha died, atop Vulture Peak at sunset. In all these places and more I sensed the Buddha’s presence. I felt as though I had a deeper understanding of the teachings and was truly hearing the Dharma with new ears.  

Then came Bodh Gaya, the place of Siddhartha’s awakening, which felt like an entirely different universe. There’s nothing calm or quiet about Bodh Gaya, even as you approach the Bodhi tree. Bodh Gaya is crowded, the air filled with chanting, incense and an electrified presence. It was difficult even to take in the sheer number of marigolds, candles, robe-clad monks and barefoot pilgrims. Everyone there seemed to be looking for the same thing--the Buddha’s presence within themselves.

Our little Sangha slowly, mindfully made our way to the Bodhi tree outside the monumental Mahabodhi Temple, where we sat under the Bodhi tree as a Sangha meditating on Siddhartha’s awakening. As I sat there breathing, feeling the chanting move through me, meditating on the Buddha’s awakening, I felt as though something in me opened. Suddenly there was a pristine clarity in my thoughts, a knowing more tangible than ever before. “This is it,” I thought. “This is the life I want—to serve others to the greatest extent possible with this gift of a life I’ve been given.”

Tears flowed as any doubt about my path left me, and I felt clear, sure, determined. I started a mantra that day, asking myself, “Who am I helping?” whenever my thoughts strayed, or I found myself wandering into an unskillful mindset. Because if my goal is to be helpful to all living beings, there is no time to waste.

Did I have my own awakening sitting under the Bodhi tree? I’m not sure. But something inside me definitely transformed that day, and I haven’t been the same since. Perhaps, as Fred so often says, I finally have it “in my bones.” Whatever it is, the realization was worth the price of admission a million times over.

Peggy Wallace lives in Seminole Heights with her husband Daniel and two pet dogs. She’s been a member of FCM for nearly five years, serves as treasurer on the FCM Board of Directors, leads Community Care, mentors new members, offers selfless service in the kitchen, leads morning meditation, and is an aspirant in the Order of Interbeing.