By Hailey Heinz

At around 1:25 p.m. last Friday, a procession made its way across the Northeastern campus. Led by two Tibetan Buddhist monks in traditional robes, who were ringing bells and chanting, a group of about 20 students made their way from Ell Hall to a pond in the Fens.

This procession was the culmination of Sand Mandala week. Two Tibetan Buddhist monks, Geshe Gendun and Lama Dondup, came to Northeastern at the request of the Center for Spiritual Life and spent four days creating a Sand Mandala, a circular design made of colored sand.

On Friday, they ritualistically dismantled it and poured the sand into a pond in the Fens, symbolizing the impermanence of all things.

Sand Mandalas are an ancient tradition in Tibetan Buddhism. While they vary greatly in size and design, they are all circular with a square inside. Different Mandalas represent different concepts, and the one prepared for Northeastern was a Mandala for compassion.

Shelli Jankowski-Smith, Northeastern’s director of spiritual life, met Gendun when she was the director of spiritual life at Boston University. Gendun did a Sand Mandala there and Jankowski-Smith became acquainted with him and kept in touch.

“It was just such an incredible experience. I’ve been really hoping he could do one here,” Jankowski-Smith said.

There were plenty of opportunities for students to see the Mandala and interact with the monks throughout the week. Monday through Thursday mornings, students were invited to join the monks for their morning prayers.

On Tuesday morning about eight students and staff gathered in the Sacred Space, where all the events of Sand Mandala week were held.

While some participants came out of curiosity, Van Liwang, an academic coordinator in the College of Business, is a practicing Buddhist. She came several mornings to pray, and although she isn’t a Tibetan Buddhist, she said she wanted to take advantage of the monks’ presence on campus.

“There aren’t very many opportunities for Buddhist prayer,” she said.

After morning prayers, the monks began to work on the Mandala, and continued to work from 10:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Thursday.

Students were invited to visit during this time, watching the monks work, and sometimes talking to Gendun. Gendun was the more talkative of the monks, and often mingled with students while Dondup worked on the Mandala.

Jankowski-Smith said Gendun’s training is more theological, and his focus is on interacting with the public and spreading understanding of Buddhism. Dondup’s education, on the other hand, was more experiential. Dondup was trained as a Mandala Master.

Some teachers took advantage of Sand Mandala week and brought students to watch the monks work.

Lindsay Leard, a lecturer in the Visual Arts Department, brought her art history class to visit the monks. She said she wanted the students “to see an ancient art form and understand it in context, which we rarely get the opportunity to do.”

Karen Sullivan, a middler art and English major and a student in Leard’s class, said she was impressed by what she saw.

“I think it’s pretty amazing that the sand can create such intricate details,” she said.

The technique for creating the Mandala involves pouring sand into a long, thin, metal funnel called a chak puck, which is held horizontally over the Mandala. The chak puck has grooves on it, and when a stick is rubbed across these grooves, a few grains of sand fall from the end.

Through this painstaking process, the monks created an intricate design that was several feet in diameter.

Sand Mandala week also included several evening activities, such as a showing of “Kundun,” a film on His Holiness the Dalai Lama, a lecture and discussion by Assistant Professor of History of Art Philip Walsh and two teaching and discussion sessions with Gendun.

The Thursday night session packed the Sacred Space, despite cold and rainy weather. Gendun told the group about the rigors of monastic life, then led the group in meditation.

“If you fall asleep, the punishment is you have to stand up and meditate,” he said, then laughed, rocking back and forth on his cushion. “We have to laugh as much as we can,” he said. “Life is a joyful thing.”

Gendun focused the discussion on the basic ideas behind Buddhism, and often applied it to everyday life.

“Everybody needs a break,” he said. “We are always listening to music, chewing gum, running everywhere.”

He described meditation as a time for slowing down the hectic pace.

“It is a time to not chew the chewing gum,” Gendun said.

The morning after this discussion, it was time to dismantle the Mandala. Candles were lit around it, and the monks performed ritual chants. Sand was pinched out of specific parts of the Mandala, and then ceremonial lines were drawn through the sand. The image became increasingly blurred, until the monks swept the masterpiece into the middle of the table, leaving only the pencil-drawn outline of the design and a pile of colorful sand.

The sand was gathered into a vase, and the procession to the Fens began. After the sand was released into the water, the group returned to the Sacred Space for some final chanting rituals.

Daniela Sloan, a middler international affairs major, said she thought she would be sad to see something so beautiful destroyed, but in the end it seemed right.

“It makes a lot of sense that it just gets swept up,” she said.

The dismantling of the Mandala reflects the impermanence of life, as well as the necessity of detaching from material things.

“It’s something you invest all this energy into, which you can’t, by nature, attach to,” said Walsh, who is a practicing Tibetan Buddhist.

Gendun said everything must change and eventually disappear, and the dismantling of the Mandala represents that idea.

“Every moment you are aging. We are all aging,” he said. “We would like to stay young and beautiful, but nothing is permanent.”