The path of a Cuban Bikkhuni

An interview with Ven. Ayya Marajina. February 25, 2026.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uYRSu3gPxT8

Introduction and First Steps in Buddhism

Lama Fede: I think we're ready for the interview, right? Perfect. Okay, shall we begin? Excellent. Well, Venerable, thank you so much for accepting this interview, thank you so much for coming. I wanted to ask you, Venerable, the first thing we have to ask is if you could tell us a little about your life, especially for those who weren't born into a Buddhist family, how did you come to Buddhism, generally speaking?

Come. Ayya Marajina: That would take days.

Lama Fede: The short version, perhaps.

Come. Ayya Marajina: The short version. I'm of Cuban parents, I was born in the United States, but when I was 40 days old, my parents, missing Cuba, returned. By boat, because at that time, the United States and Cuba weren't speaking to each other, they wanted to kill each other. And when we arrived in Cuba, my dad realized that after communism came in, things weren't the same anymore, and they immediately applied to the U.S. State Department for permission to return. So we came back in '69. Something curious is that I was 5 years old and my language was already formed, so switching to English left me with a kind of imbalance in my language. I'm thinking in one language, but speaking in another, writing a lot with the syntax of one, but not the other. And I don't know if that has affected my way of thinking, but growing up with a Cuban family, because my whole family is Cuban, not just my father, but everyone, cousins, everyone, we were from Cuba. And living in a completely different culture, there was also an imbalance, something wasn't balanced, and that's how I grew up. I never thought I belonged to either one or the other; I felt like I belonged to both, but to neither. And I think that helped open my mind a little, and see that there was no identification; I didn't identify with either culture.

I think that had something to do with it, but what really did was the death of an aunt. And the death of her husband, who was my uncle, also my favorite, from cancer, one after the other, and then my godmother, one of the three, and that kind of finished off the family. And at that time I was living alone on a farm, and I had discovered Buddhism, but I only started meditating at the beginning. I lived alone with my cows, goats, and dogs, and when they started dying, I felt so isolated, not because I lived alone—because that's my preferred way of life—but because the people I loved were leaving me. And I already had a painting, I still have a painting, even with my grandparents, my mother's family, relatives, friends, and then little by little, over the years, they passed away. We started with about 30 people in that group, and now there are about 6 of us left. And at that moment there were also about 6 of us left, and at that same moment I saw that a Bhikkhunis shrine opened in California, and I got the crazy idea to leave everything, and go to the other side of the United States, and I was in the east, the shrine in California was in the west, and I never looked back.

Lama Fede: Something like that, not the same as you obviously, but I've had a family—we were 40 or 50 when I was a child, and when I was a teenager—and now there are only two of us left from my mother's side of the family, one of us is left alone, and that has something to do with the calling to Buddhism, this idea of impermanence and death, which you talk about so much. And how was your first contact, and how did you decide to begin your ordained training as a Bhikkhuni?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: At that time, living alone in the countryside, on a beautiful farm, with my animals, I can't tell you exactly when I encountered Buddhism, but I remember the website, Access to Insight , which still exists, although they're no longer maintaining it, and I started reading. Because what had happened was, I was raised Catholic. When I was 7 years old, I was sitting at Mass, and my brother was serving as an altar boy. I told my dad, because my brother was in third grade, and in third grade they started choosing who would serve Mass, I told my dad, "Next year I want to serve Mass," and he told me, "You can't, it's complicated, you can't, because you're a girl." And that's when any illusion I had of an all-powerful God fell away. I couldn't understand how that could be, just because I was a girl. So it was Catholicism; I went through many stages. At that time on the farm, I was reading Krishnamurti, but I didn't really understand him. I almost understood him, but not completely, and even today I still don't. Then, I stumbled across this website, and it was a line in the book, *The Noble Eightfold Path* by Bhikkhu Bodhi, that says, "this is the middle way, which leads to wisdom, knowledge," that sparked a realization. All the lights went on, every single one, and they never went out again. From then on, I was kind of searching for a path, without even realizing it, and when I found it, the search was over; now it was just a matter of walking.

Literature, Oral Transmission, and Technology

Lama Fede: Now, fundamentalism in the West is frowned upon; a fundamentalist is seen as a terrorist. But a fundamentalist is someone who finds the foundation, who finds the path, so that's excellent. And it's interesting that in the West, many of us come to the path primarily through literature, whether it's online literature, like Access to Insight —unfortunately, it's not used more because that site is beautiful—or literature, like, I don't know, many people here have come to it through Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. As the author of a book on Buddhism yourself, how do you see the role of literature in spreading the teachings? Is it important, or would it be more interesting to return to a more oral tradition? What's your take on it?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: Well, it would be beneficial to have some of the oral tradition, because many of us have very distracted minds; we can't maintain our attention on an object, for example, the object of meditation. We sit down and we're already somewhere else. In the oral tradition, things were repeated, and there were groups of monks who maintained sections of the Nikayas. They specialized in certain sections and had mastery over them. But writing can also be better preserved, and as writers, we can resolve points, clarify points, through editing, and the drafts go through again and again. When I finish a certain essay, I already have it in my memory because I've reviewed it so many times that I already have it; the rhythm of the words, the expressions, everything is already engraved. And I think that nowadays it would be very good to maintain both.

Lama Fede: It's like a path that combines the oral tradition with writing and new technologies, because now there's also the added complexity of TikTok and YouTube, and all that stuff which is a challenge, at least.

Come. Ayya Marajina: May I ask you? Attention is running out, but I want to mention that we do have an oral tradition, through chants; the purpose of the chants is to be able to memorize.

Lama Fede: I believe it was Richard Gombrich who said that the sutras have this repetitive structure in many cases because they are primarily meant to be maintained orally. And I wanted to ask you, Venerable, for example, how do you see it? I've seen you, I've seen videos of you teaching, I tried to read and listen as much as I could before interviewing you, and I've seen videos of you teaching, videos that have also been uploaded to Tiratana, here in Argentina. How do you see the challenges, as you say, the issue of attention, which is so vital for us Buddhists, in relation to Samatha? How do you see the challenges of this new technology?

Come. Ayya Marajina: It has its good and bad points. Good, because sitting in the Dhammasala of my hermitage in Florida, I can reach the homes of anyone in Latin America who wants to and can listen. And also see their faces, know how attentive they are, if they are falling asleep, then I change my tone, I make a joke. And that's why I've had to learn the technology, because it has been difficult to learn. But it gives me that communication that there's no way to have if you're traveling.

Lama Fede: And it is, as you rightly say, necessary now, but what are the challenges you see when you broadcast like this?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Well, I live in the countryside and the connection isn't very good. That's one of them. Another, I don't really see that many challenges because many people in Latin America, as you know, don't have a Theravada temple they can attend. And when I'm not online, like when I'm traveling—I've been traveling these last few months—my students ask me to please connect with them. It's so beautiful that I can reach these people who have suffered so much. There's so much suffering, they're searching. And this is a technology that unites us, even if it's just through video. Right now, perhaps it gives me an idea of some challenges. Although I don't know it very well and it's a problem for me to connect and all that. But I see that it's very beneficial.

Lama Fede: In general, I speak with many Buddhist teachers from different schools. There's always a question about the quality of the connection, which has to do with—and it's not so much for me, it works for me—but with feedback. As you say, when we're all meditating together in one place, you look around, see people like that, and make a joke, lighten the mood, or you see that they're moving around a lot, so maybe you need to take a short break. That happens online sometimes, and I think sometimes it's also a fear on the part of the person teaching; you don't know if the other person is paying attention, asleep, or has wandered off. But it generally works for me, I mean. That's why I tend to ask about the experience. I'm glad it works for you too.

Come. Ayya Marajina: If someone else is handling the video, the stream, then they just show my face on the screen, and I ask them to please show everyone, because that way I can see them and communicate better. He can be looking at my face. Yes, one says, "I'm well-groomed," but in her case, since she's a nun, well, you don't have to worry about that.

Lama Fede: In my case I say, "Oh, is my hair done? Do I look okay?", but that's the maximum. Excellent.

Cultural Adaptation, Syncretism and Practices

Lama Fede: Afterwards, I wanted to ask you, well, I read your very interesting book, as I was saying, and I was interested in the way you frame things, from the book itself, from the title, right? "Pa'lante, pa'llá." I don't know if my pronunciation, my accent, is too Buenos Aires, excuse me. But I liked how you focus or use the discourse, on the one hand, which is a traditionally Pali discourse, the categories I think you're using, but with a Caribbean approach, right? What was this experience of localizing the Dharma like without losing its spirit?

Come. Ayya Marajina: I think it was very easy for me. And I should explain that I spent a lot of time alone. I don't have the influence of a strong culture like Thai culture, where everything is Tibetan. Everything is steeped in culture first. I didn't have that, for better or for worse. I think both. And it was very easy for me to have that knowledge, once I had it, and translate it into Cuban culture. It was like a bridge, really, for my own heart. It was a bridge that emerged. And I myself was surprised at how well it works in the Cuban context. And I also just spent a retreat in Brazil without speaking Portuguese. And there was also a very, very strong connection, because I am Hispanic, through my parents, and that makes it very, very easy to translate what is already internal, an internal wisdom, outward. And without taking the culture into account, I'm not trying to be Hispanic. That's what I already am. I'm not trying to capture something I don't know. I already know it. That's very natural. I think that when something is so natural, it explains itself. And these silly things come out, but so do things like "onward, that way." My second book is "Turn Off and Let's Go ." All these sayings from my childhood are coming out in the Dharma. And I find it wonderful.

Lama Fede: Yes, I think it's wonderful. It's the way the Dharma has to take shape. I think it has to be translated into culture. It's true what you say about Tibetan Buddhism in general—and well, I've never been to Thailand, I'm going in a week—but it's very culturally influenced. One challenge we face, at least for us Western Vajrayanists, is understanding what culture is and understanding what Dharma is. And in this process, for example, one thing I was thinking about is how the topic of Asubha, for instance, would have been, right? Teaching contemplation of corpses. I don't know if you teach it, but, for example, in the Visuddhimagga, to take one example, how does one arrive at those practices?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: It's a very intense practice. And I reserve it for people who are very attached to those things. And there are never any married people who have a partner. But I don't teach it commonly. I specialize more in the Brahma-viharas, because it has an immediate benefit for the person, and a much more pleasant path. But not in Asubha, rather Maranasati. Reflection on death is also very powerful. And it's something that is useful to us in any context. More so than Asubha. When the Buddha taught Asubha, there was the tragedy of many monks committing suicide. And if the Buddha wasn't clear, he wasn't omniscient; he could see the mind of the person directly, and how it was going to develop. But reading the future, in my tradition, that's not taught. So, if he had that tragedy after such a short teaching, I believe he taught it twice, and both students lost it.

Lama Fede: It can happen, yes, there are issues that I think are difficult to translate, right? For example, here, one of the challenges in teaching the practice in contexts like Argentina is that in Tibet or India—I've been, for example, to places where this is taught a lot in the context of Vajrayana in Varanasi—you go there and you have corpses right next to you, burning on the ghats every day. In Argentina it's more difficult. Here there's a complex legal process involved in going to practice at the crematoriums. We go to Chacarita, for example, but it's led to something I never imagined as a Buddhist when I started practicing: having to send legal documents for the practice, which isn't unusual at all. So there are things that are quite difficult to teach. What things do you see as easy to teach in a Hispanic culture?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: Metta, Mudita, these are the main teachings and the Satipatthana, which go together, really, because as in Cuba, they are going through so many difficulties, teaching forgiveness through Metta helps a lot, it calms the heart, gives patience, and then they immediately reap the benefit, their family, who are in the same difficult situations, with mosquito viruses, with food shortages, with the lack of electricity, taking a break from the stress, and they can do it anywhere, you don't need legal forms to enter the crematorium, I haven't lost any students teaching the divine abodes, and what they tell me is that it helps, and it helps immediately in the sense of the feeling of tranquility, that it helps everyone because that energy, you know? The skin is permeable, this energy doesn't stay in any one place, it's natural that it wants to go out.

Lama Fede: Yes, and as you say, I always say that to save beings from suffering, which is part of Mahayana, one can at least try not to generate more suffering. If one simply stops increasing suffering, it's a small percentage, but it's something, isn't it? It helps, it helps little by little. And then you teach, you were also telling me about the Mahasatipatthana Sutta, and because of the retreat you're going to take, you teach, I imagine, the path of Samatha as well, right? And all the applications of the four bases of consciousness, right? The four foci. How do you find the practice of meditation in your teachings? Do you find that people are receptive and progressing in it? Do you find challenges in teaching meditation? The different types of Bhavana, right?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Obviously. Many times I find students who have already read many books, listened to many teachers, changed from one tradition to another, and they want an answer. Now, now, give me the key, give me the magic word, and that's it. And it's practice. That's why it's called practice. And then I start again with them, so they have confidence that I'm helping them, but it has to be based on morality, it has to be based on practice, and that discipline they acquire in practice. If they persevere, then they can progress. Also by practicing generosity. Even though in Cuba they only have money and clothes and things like that to give, they can give their time, they can help their neighbor. There are many ways to practice generosity that diminish the obstacles you have in meditation. The Buddha taught—the first two things the Buddha taught a general audience were virtue and generosity. And that's to have a bit of a base of merit so that when you have your meditation on the right track, the obstacles you're going to encounter, you can work with them instead of abandoning the practice. It's a challenge. You know, like Avalokiteshvara, who sometimes has four arms and other times a thousand, and I only have two, it's harder to help many people. I also have to discipline myself to only give time to those who are giving me that time in their practice. Because there are many people who want to talk, they want a mother figure, and they're not ready, and they don't want to practice generosity, and they don't pay attention to virtue. They want that key word and that's it. So I can't help everyone who comes to me. And over time, I've had to accept that. That I can't help everyone. That's a very big challenge.

Lama Fede: Exactly. Here we say we have to move forward, but I think it's basically the same thing. And this is something that happens a lot, the idea of searching within religion. Before we begin, I'd like to ask you a little about your ordination on the Venerable Tathaloka, but first I wanted to ask you two or three questions about the book. One was, I found it interesting, and I'd like to see if I understood correctly, at one point you speak, for example, of Jesus as a Maitreya, right? In that sense. In Mahayana, that's like a bodhisattva of training. Do you mean, are you implying that? Are you implying that there's an example of a sacrificial figure? Or are you implying that you consider him to be the Heaven of Tushita, or Maitreya?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Well, I call him The Christ, which is a title, just as The Buddha is a name. And there are many working Buddhists who believe that he is in Tushita Heaven, waiting for the right conditions to descend, and as a bodhisattva in his final life, which will be when he teaches the teachings of Maitreya Buddha, who will be the last Buddha in this world system. I believe he would already be the fifth.

Lama Fede: Yes, and Shakyamuni is the fourth in Theravada. Kanakamuni is the third, and yes, he would be the fifth.

Ven. Ayya Marajina: In our tradition, the bodhisattva practices the ten perfections, and giving one's life is the last, which is what Christ did. The next perfection is well-being, also known as benevolence, goodwill, Maitri in Sanskrit, Metta in Pali. I teach it this way, and it helps to unite people who have great devotion to Christ. Although there are only two teachings of Christ in the Bible, in the New Testament, his teachings were erased, immediately erased, and now we have other teachings from other people, of course, his disciples. This creates a unity, especially in Latin America, where the Catholic Christian Church has such prominence, such strength, such power over people, that we are not so different. The few remaining teachings of Christ are very similar to the teachings of the Buddha, up to the point of liberation, nirvana, which was not yet a teaching of Christ. It has helped me a lot to reach people in Cuba who, by the way, are not very sure about their faith. I tell them they don't have to convert to Buddhism, they just need to maintain the medical precepts, and that leads you to a point where your mind opens up. It's not something you have to want; you practice and you arrive. Very easy. But talking about Christ helps me reach people who need something from their faith, something reflected in Buddhism.

Lama Fede: What do you do about the concept of Atman? It's a complex topic, one that's very prominent in Christian teaching, isn't it? So, when someone comes to it from that perspective, what do they do with the concept of Atman itself?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: That wouldn't be one of the initial teachings, because even Buddhists don't understand Anatta. They can't study for ten years, meditate for ten years in all the courses of Goenka and Mahasi, and still not understand. But when the time comes that they do understand, then it's easier to teach Anatta. I start with Dukkha; it's much easier to understand. You see it all around, even Anicca, which can also be seen. Anatta isn't something to begin with.

Lama Fede: He's leaving it as a surprise for later, so to speak.

Come. Ayya Marajina: And I don't have to surprise anyone, when I'm ready, the Atman will fall in a moment.

Lama Fede: What about, for example, the religions of the island? The Regla de Ocha, Palo, there's a possibility, there are people who are in those religions, do they also approach Buddhism? Or is it a question, or perhaps, I didn't find it in the book, I looked for it, but I mean, is there an approach to the Orishas, to Elegguá and all the other Cuban deities?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: On one hand, since I was a child I've worn a medal of Our Lady of Charity of El Cobre, who in the Yoruba religion is Oshun, and transferring Our Lady of Charity of El Cobre, Oshun, to Buddhism would be Avalokiteshvara. And I think, who can say that Our Lady of Charity of El Cobre, or Saint Lazarus, or Saint Barbara, aren't bodhisattvas? Who can say they aren't? I accept that they might be, and the only thing is, in the Yoruba religion there are many animal sacrifices, too many, which isn't a good energy. It's a rather ugly and dense ignorance. So, I don't approach the Yorubas in this way, but they have a lot of knowledge of natural medicines, of plants. Which is very good to have, which has been lost in other parts of the world. So, in that way, I can approach the Yorubas, the Santeros. But I've seen that when churches come together for a community purpose in Cuba, they invite everyone, even the Yoruba people. And I, I can't do that, because that issue of sacrificing beings is the primary purpose. Even Christ said so. I'm sacrificing so that no one else has to.

So, that's where I have a line I won't cross. I don't see how I could cross it. We, my students who have taken the other precepts, don't dress in white, for that very reason, because the Yoruba people dress in white. But we're always looking for common ground, trying to find what's common, because Yoruba culture is everywhere, all over Cuba. Everything is saturated with that syncretism with the Catholic Church. But no, I haven't invited anyone to our ceremonies in that way.

Lama Fede: That's not how I interpret it, but it's how I've seen it in discussions, because there's also a group—I think it's BAC Cuba—which is an evangelical group that's against the Yoruba religion. Their interpretation is that if the sacrifice is going to be eaten, it's an animal that would die anyway; it wouldn't be as serious as if it were an animal sacrificed solely for a ritual, in that sense. But it is an animal sacrifice, which, depending on how one chooses to interpret it, is something negative or not. In Mahayana, it's the same; in many cases, it's not necessary to be vegetarian. Well, in Theravada, in many cases, it's also not necessary to be vegetarian. But in other schools, it is, and in that case, it's very difficult to understand. So, there are possibilities for approaching certain syncretisms, understanding that the precepts would be like the framework that maintains whether something is acceptable or not. Did I understand correctly?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: More or less. The precept is not to kill any being, including oneself. It's not against eating meat, although we monastics have certain forbidden meats, and we can't even suspect, see, or hear that an animal has been sacrificed for us. This precept applies even to mosquitoes, even to cockroaches, and especially to other animals. Something I was going to mention this afternoon in class is that we share about 37 mental states with animals, both human and animal. We're not so different. And so, killing causes pain, takes life, causes agony. How can that result in anything beneficial? It's a contradiction. It doesn't work.

Lama Fede: Thank you very much. It's true, it's a topic we discuss a lot in our group. And that's why we're also so strict, so to speak. But I think it's the right path, isn't it? It's about maintaining a certain line. And what you were just saying about them taking the children, right? Because it's like the place where they leave the children, in many cases. It's terrible. It happens a lot in Tibet because, well, the exile community doesn't have, often the Dharma is the only way of life. And that's terrible because they have people who might not want that, in that sense. Thinking about it from another perspective, you're a nun, aren't you?

If I remember correctly, she's a nun in female form who was ordained under Ayya Tathaloka, right? Ayya Tathaloka. What are the challenges she faces? Which seem to me to be twofold at times, right? In this Buddhist context of being a female monk and also Western, right? To teach and especially to navigate these institutions that are still the reference point when one speaks of Buddhism. 90% of the people I talk to about Buddhism tell me it's like the Dalai Lama, right? That I adore the Dalai Lama, that's the reference point, right? How does one manage to navigate this as a female monk and as a Westerner?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Now that's a challenge.

Because ethnic communities are the ones who support the monasteries in the United States. It's the Thais, the Vietnamese who support them, who give the money for the monasteries. For the monastic communities. And so one has to depend on that, and that's why the culture is brought in, that's why the culture enters. Because these people are Buddhists from birth, within a certain Buddhist context. And that's what they expect. And so in the United States, American Buddhism hasn't been able to develop. It's always Thai, or Vietnamese, or Laotian. But in the same way, for my preceptor Ayya Tathaloka, it's more difficult because she has not only a monastery, but also a hermitage.

They're two large places that require a lot of maintenance, a lot of money to run the day-to-day operations. And so they always have to be in front of people and don't have time to practice. I was lucky in that respect because I live in the countryside. And there's no ethnic community around. And my family had bought the land; my mother lives in a separate little house there.

I live with a Puerto Rican woman, Dayika. She's the lady who provides for me, my food, and pays all the bills. So I didn't have to worry about money, about being in the public eye, about trying to raise funds. Now I have Cuba in my heart, and I need to raise funds for it. But it all comes naturally. If you don't have that pressure of constantly teaching and you have the luxury—because it is a luxury to practice—then all of that comes, all the upkeep, the support, it all comes little by little, gradually, because people see. You're not in front of the cameras, but they see your behavior, they see your knowledge, your way of trying to help and support the people who come to you. I've been lucky enough to go through hell to get where I am, but I haven't had to sacrifice my practice to maintain my shrine, and my family maintains it.

And now I also have more people supporting me, who have given me a very nice Dhammasala. And I have my first little hut, Kuti, now. We are growing, I am growing in that way, but it came through solitary practice, not from the beginning, as happens to many female monks, always being in the spotlight so that you are not forgotten, so that you can receive your four requirements, as is happening all over the world.

Lama Fede: I've spoken quite a bit with other nuns lately, and they all tell me the same thing: it's difficult because there isn't the same concept of merit as in Thai, Khmer, and Cambodian cultures, where the monk is supported. Here, it's more transactional, so to speak. So everyone is very worried; they have to work a lot to be able to dedicate themselves to meditation, to have time to meditate, and it's difficult, very difficult. To the point that I met a monk at the Sakya who was a taxi driver. I liked him, but of course, with all the time you spend working, you can't practice; it's difficult, it's a difficult situation.

Ven. Ayya Marajina: The Buddha created this way of dedicating one's life, and in those times one would attain Arahant, the fourth level of holiness, before beginning to teach. And we have to start teaching almost immediately, even the Samaneras I have in Cuba, the novices, people already want them to be sharing teachings with them, and I forbid it because what are they going to teach them? Obviously, they are learning.

Lama Fede: No, but this brings me to an interesting question, since one of the major problems in all Mahayana traditions has generally been certification, right? In this case, being an Arahant, right? What is it like in your general tradition? How many living Arahants, for example, are teaching today?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Well, they don't say they are Arahants. According to my teacher, there are very few of them. And they remain isolated. There are many Sotapannas, which is the first level of holiness. Even laypeople. You can reach that level even while having a family, and keeping only five precepts. Then, a few less Sakadagami, which is the second level of holiness, and even fewer Anagami, the third level. But they exist. It's just that when you reach those stages, that sense of identity—we're not talking about Arahants, we're talking about Sakadagami and Anagami—the sense of identity diminishes to the point that all they're doing is wanting to help. Wanting to help and not worrying so much about how they are, how they're going to be. Because the Dhamma is Opanayiko. One quality of the Dhamma is that it carries you, the Dhamma carries. And you're carrying your identity like a sack of stones on your back, on your shoulder, walking around. So, you're too heavy, the Dhamma can't pick you up. When you start to let go of that stone, stone by stone perhaps, one by one at first, then the Dhamma kind of opens a window for you. And it begins to show that that quality still exists. Opanayiko starts to carry you. And then, at those stages, there's less to do, people come to you. You try to help, but without a sense of having to help. You're not going out looking for them; they recognize you and come to you. That helps you respond to...

Lama Fede: Yes, it helps. What it makes me think is, I understand then why there are so many novices who can teach them, because if there are few Arahants, or Anagami, let's say, there are very few of them, and on top of that they keep themselves distant, or isolated, it makes sense that then people desperate for the Dhamma, searching for the Dhamma, look for someone, even if it's not the ideal one, right?

Come. Ayya Marajina: Yes. To reach Sotapanna, you need someone. You need a teacher to help you, especially with meditation. But just as the Dhamma leads you, the Dhamma leads you to the teacher. And there are teachers, and monks in various forms of meditation. We're good here. But it's not because you just start driving, drop everything, and go searching. In the search, many people are torn apart. It has to be morality, discipline, practice, and then the paths open. You can't skip that part of the practice because it's the practice that opens the path. And even a Sotapanna can help a great deal because they have already seen, had the vision of Nibbana, had that experience. And the most important thing at the beginning is for the person to let go of the belief of being a separate person, a separate individual. The Sotapanna has already reached that stage where they have released identity, doubt, and the belief in any ceremony that can save them. That's what you need if you can find a Sotapanna.

So a Sotapanna can lead you to Sotapanna. And the Dhamma leads you, finds you a Dhamma. The Sakadagami can lead you to Sakadagami. And so, it's a process. What we can't do, which we do very often today, is to have a collection of Dhamma, a collection of knowledge. And then, it becomes almost impossible to teach that person, because they already know everything. They know more than the Buddha. And it's the person who is, sincerely, confessing that they can learn. Like a full glass, you can't add more water to a glass that's already full. But an empty glass can hold water.

Lama Fede: We call ourselves the Dhamma Pokémon. It's the people who need to know. You've seen that Pokémon has to grab everyone. That's how it is. You have to know all of the Dhamma. A question about this leads me to think about this, perhaps. You consider that Sotapannas can be laypeople, but then Sakadagami and Anagami should be ordained, they should be Bhikkhunis, shouldn't they?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: The only example we have in the Suttas, in the discourses, is that Arahants, if they are not ordained immediately, die. That happened to Bahiya. It happened to another with a cow. Then we have the example of Bhaddakaccana, who was a nun—how do you say it?—a Jain nun? And she, listening to the Buddha, awakened. She is like the equivalent of Bahiya. She awakened immediately. Bhaddakaccana also awakened immediately, and then the Buddha said to her, "Ehi, Bhikkhuni, come." And that was her ordination. She was a case of an Arahant being ordained, and she taught for many years, I think more than 50 years, as an Arahant. But what I say in principle, especially if a person has problems such as personality issues, personality disorders, is to reach Sotapanna first before being ordained. But I know Sakadagamis who are still laypeople, very content. Why wouldn't they be content with one more life? Just to come down here one more time? You need to get yourself sorted out. Even I think Anagami, who has neither likes nor dislikes, might need to take better care of himself. But a Sakadagami can run a business. I understand.

Mental Health and Metta

Lama Fede: And this brings me to another question. You were very open in your teachings, in your writings. How have you found in the Dharma a way to move beyond this perception, often found in the West, that it is an illness and that illness is treated in that way, to find in the Dharma something more structured or something more than just help?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: I was diagnosed as a teenager. I've had this disorder my whole life. I tried many medications, and for every one thing that improved, 20 things worsened. I stopped all the medications and wasn't even thinking about it because with bipolar disorder, you can go years very well, very stable. I didn't even remember that my skin was heavy, that I was cured. When I found Buddhism and started meditating, then after my ordination, I had a very big trauma in a monastery, and that disorder returned very, very strongly. But I already had the experience of meditation, although it dragged me through hell because it lasted quite a while. I realized at one point that my mind was going from one side to the other, from one side to the other, from one side to the other.

I would have three days where I was full of energy, making plans, looking at business, doing everything. Then on the fourth day, I didn't want to do any of it anymore. I was already depressed, I had no energy, and so on. It was a great blessing to have what they call flying meditation. It's very quick. I don't spend many days, a week or two, in one state, and then I slowly move to the other; for me, it was back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and I realized what was happening and I remembered something my teacher had told me that made me very angry at the time. What I still find today is that people don't like being given the object of meditation because they think it's something for beginners, something to start with, an easy meditation, which isn't true. It's not an easy meditation; to do it correctly requires a lot of courage, a lot of attention, a lot of forgiveness, and I started practicing Metta.

And one of the first things I learned from that meditation was that my mom and I were always like this, always. She had an old TV that kept breaking down; the channel would cut out two or three times a week. I haven't watched TV in decades, long before I started organizing, and I'd get angry every time it broke down and she'd call me to fix it. One of those times, when my mom called, I realized I was already angry. It wasn't about her calling or the TV or anything; it was that I was already carrying that anger within me. And right then and there, I decided I was going to change, that I wasn't going to get angry anymore, that I was going to go happily and fix the TV. And that's what happened. I realized that you can change your perception, and that's all there is to it. That's how you get there.

Then her grandchildren bought her a new television, and that phase of her life changed. But I started meditating with my mother, and our relationship changed completely, day and night. It's never gone back. She felt it too; she could perceive that change immediately. That's why I teach Metta and not Samantha, because they each have their place, but Metta has the immediate benefit and changes everything. It drastically changes your perception in a way that transforms your entire life.

And bipolar disorder changed me. I still have it and I can feel the changes, but now I'm aware of them. I can take a day off, or have some tea or coffee, or anything, to be aware of what's happening and try to change it. But I see that in the Anagami stage, those poles end. This hatred and desire are more or less the two extremes; they no longer exist. But there is a cure. Before, I thought there couldn't be a cure, but now I can see that the cure is training the mind and never letting yourself be carried away by those malevolent energies because they are destructive energies that will destroy you, your family, and half the world if you let them.

Lama Fede: We call them "maras," they're one's own "maras," but what a great experience because it allows you to know it not only theoretically—nobody says it's good to have bipolar disorder—but having gone through the experience lets you know it works, it clears up any doubts. And when you talk about this, have you found students who have had similar experiences?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: Yes, I've found many, and if they maintain the practice, they benefit; the problem is that they don't have the practice through those currents, which isn't easy, it's not easy. So, earning merit—and earning merit can simply mean not shouting when you want to shout—that in itself is merit; you're already changing your perception, you're already changing the conceptualization you think you have, and that's how you begin to feel better, and that helps the practice because you have to feel good in the practice. If it's a struggle, of course you're not going to continue. And the struggle is... and the disorders it brings, but it's good to know.

Lama Fede: I think it's different to compare yourself knowing there's an option, knowing that it exists is already a lot; always having hope is good, and I'm wrapping up now, more or less, I think I've explained everything. I'd like to ask you, Venerable, obviously we're going to have the talk and we'll go and see, and I wanted to tell you that a couple of our group members might want to ask you a question, Venerable. If you had to conceptualize the three or four pillars of your teaching, it's clear to me that Metta is one pillar, it's clear to me that practice is another pillar, it seems to me, but what would you say are the three or four keys to what you teach?

Ven. Ayya Marajina: The first is ethics, that's essential. There are many Mindfulness programs today, Mindfulness everywhere, apps that teach Mindfulness, classes you can attend for twelve weeks and get your Mindfulness teacher certification to teach Mindfulness without teaching morality. Mindfulness is the seventh step of the Noble Path and it's based on morality, which is the first division of the Noble Path: right speech, right action, and right livelihood. Without that, you can't leap into Mindfulness, it won't happen. Perhaps music, a person's voice, or something else will calm you, but you'll stay there, and without the precepts, it simply won't work. Morality is the foundation; the discipline to maintain morality is also essential, the divine abodes, and then there's Satipatthana, which I don't translate as mindfulness because we share attention even with animals. For me, it's present awareness, being present, remembering that you are present. These would be the four pillars: morality, discipline, Satipatthana, and the Brahma-viharas.

Lama Fede: Thank you very much, Venerable, for your attention.