Durian, The King of Fruits
<p>When I was a teenager, weekends and holidays were dedicated to prayer and visiting the temple to do volunteer work. Our neighborhood temple sat atop the hills of East San Jose with panoramic views of Silicon Valley. The complex was once a school, and its playground was the most serene place for reflection. I used to sit on the swings looking out into the valley wondering what my future would hold, thinking about all the people who lived their lives the way they wanted, unlike me. My life always seemed on hold. I often asked myself, “When will my life start? When will I not have to do my parents’ bidding? When can I be me?” It wasn’t until very recently that I felt free to be myself, and this blog is my way of finding the voice I’ve long suppressed.</p>
<p>It was at this Chinese Buddhist temple,<a href="http://www.drbagsm.org/en/" rel="noopener ugc nofollow" target="_blank"> Gold Sage Monastery</a>, where I ran in its breezy halls, translated lectures about sutras, knelt and bowed to monotonous chants, taught tai chi, and made lifelong friends.</p>
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