Temporary Ordination
Original source: satipanya.org.uk
In this deeply personal essay, Noirin Sheahan shares her experience of taking temporary ordination as a Buddhist nun with Ayya Ariyañani at Passadhi retreat. What begins as a dutiful commitment to deepen her connection with the Dhamma becomes a profound journey of self-discovery and acceptance.
The essay candidly explores the unexpected challenges of temporary ordination - not the shaved head or robes, but the difficulty of accepting her new Dhamma name 'Puññanadi' (Rejoicing in Merit). Sheahan's initial resistance to the name becomes a mirror for her habitual patterns of rejecting unwelcome aspects of life, including the reality of aging, sickness, and death. Through mindful observation, she transforms this aversion into a tool for greater self-acceptance and courage in facing difficult truths.
The retreat experience, combining silent meditation with discussions about monastic life in Burma and elsewhere, provides space for the deep implications of ordination to unfold. Sheahan reflects on how temporary ordination offers a powerful opportunity for symbolic rebirth - a chance to make more skilful choices supported by wisdom and community. The essay concludes with her contemplation of whether this temporary experience might lead to a more permanent commitment to monastic life, leaving readers with the question of how deeply we are willing to transform ourselves in service of the Dhamma.
Temporary Ordination
When the opportunity came to take temporary ordination with Ayya Ariyañani at the retreat in
Passadhi earlier this year I took it almost unquestioningly. Not that I was overjoyed, or even terribly
enthusiastic. To some extent it was the urge to do my duty, to pay respect to the people and to the
tradition that makes sense of life for me. Underneath this weight of obligation trickled the trust that
something good always comes of taking every opportunity to deepen my commitment to the
Dhamma.
My mind didn’t dwell long on the challenge before me, but some instinct drew me to a wig shop so
that I could conceal my bald head after the retreat! Once I had the wig in place I found the courage to
tell my mum of my plans. To my surprise she took it fairly easily – I had been anticipating massive
grief because my mum and her generation were, like me, brought up as Roman Catholics. Although
this issue is still unresolved for me, it was very encouraging that my first disclosure was gently
received.
All in all, then, I approached the retreat with a fairly light heart. Having my head shaved didn’t
disturb me much - apart from the bitter cold of the first night bald as a baby! I found the peachy-pink
robes quite attractive and easy to wear. To my utter surprise it was my new name which upset me.
When I heard Ayya Ariyañani say the name ‘Puññanadi’ the sound sank into my psyche and echoed
back ‘Poo’ and ‘Puny’ and ‘Punitive’! I vaguely heard the translation as ‘Rejoicing in Merit’ but my
heart was too busy with misery and anger to be consoled.
The following meditation was a turmoil of rejection – how could I own such a horrid name? What on
earth had I taken on here? Who would want to know someone called Puññanadi? But mindfulness did
its quiet work and even before the meditation had finished my thoughts were converging towards
acceptance of this stranger, Puññanadi, who had just come to live within me, and a determination to
do my best to befriend her.
The battle re-ignited time and again over the next few days, until it came to me that, if I could have
the courage to tell people that my name was Puññanadi, then I could also tell them all kinds of other
unwelcome news – including news of old age, sickness and impending death. I reflected that
concealing bad news was an automatic habit of mine and often very unhelpful. This aversion towards
my new name would give me exactly the opportunities I needed to undermine this habit. The name,
Puññanadi, now seemed like a net I could cast around me to catch all unwanted thoughts rejected out
into the world around me. Once caught I could draw them into my heart and learn to live with them. I
felt stronger and happier now that I had this new tool to help me live my life, and so myself and
Puññanadi began to make our peace.
The retreat allowed for silent meditation and also for discussions and DVDs illustrating the life of
nuns in Burma and elsewhere. This mixture allowed us to take in the meaning and implications of
ordination and let it sink deep. On reflection, the retreat provided a powerful opportunity to make a
symbolic new start in life – this time with the wisdom and support to make more skilful choices.
My thanks to Ayya Ariyañani, to Ayya Aggañani (Marjo Oosterhoff) for organising the retreat and all
my ‘sisters’ in temporary ordination.
Now the question is, could I do take on the robes again – this time without a time-limit?
CanPuññanadi take long-term residence in this body, this life?