Trainee Ceremony: Finding Wholeness
by Chin Jue (Wade Chang)
Nov 29, 2025 | Gold Coast Dharma Realm, Australia | 10th day of the 10th lunar month
Being able to take this step into the Trainee Ceremony at Gold Coast Dharma Realm (GCDR) [recording of ceremony] meant a great deal to me. This is where I began learning about Buddhism three years ago. It is where I met wise advisors who changed how I see the world, where I developed friendships deeper than I knew possible, and where my family expanded in ways I never expected. I have spent many hours volunteering here, attended more Dharma assemblies than I can count, and even lived in the monastery itself. GCDR is not just a place; it has become part of who I am. Looking back, I can trace the transformation from someone seeking peace in the outdoors to someone learning that the deepest wilderness to explore is within.
I invited my Tongan and Samoan family and my outdoor friends. These are people who have been pillars in my Australian life and who have supported me in all the ways that matter. The thought of them gathering in one space, Buddhist monastics, Pacific Islanders, Christians, outdoor adventurers, felt like a dream coming true. It was about bringing good-hearted people together and watching different worlds recognize the kindness they all share.
Leading up to the ceremony, I did not have much time to think about it. Probably for the best. Left to my own devices, I would have spiraled into false thinking and manufactured worries out of thin air. The monastery was buzzing with preparations for upcoming events and activities, which kept my hands busy and my mind occupied.
When the monastics asked how I wanted to receive my family and friends, that was when it hit me. The moment was approaching. My mind went cloudy and my thoughts scattered. Instead of trying to untangle everything, I simply let the monks decide. Honestly, it was a blessing. They have done this before and know how to welcome and care for people’s loved ones. Why was I trying to control everything? I had to laugh at myself. Years of practice and I was still clinging to the illusion that I needed to orchestrate everything.
Trainee Ceremony
Walking from the residences to the Buddha Hall, we had one last practice for the ceremony. When I accidentally said, “Yes, I will uphold the precepts for the duration of the Trainee Ceremony” instead of “the Trainee Program,” we all burst into laughter. Perfect timing. The tension broke, endorphins kicked in, and suddenly my body remembered how to breathe. Maybe that is what practice really is, learning to laugh at yourself when you stumble.
I have walked to the Buddha Hall many times, but that day felt different. My body felt light. My thoughts were clear. I felt grounded, composed, joyful even. I was grateful for everyone’s support, but I also felt a bit nervous that everyone was giong to be there. Each step felt deliberate, as if I were crossing an invisible threshold with every footfall.
When I arrived, I sat next to James, my Tongan brother. He has been with me since I first left Taiwan for New Zealand and has been part of my entire journey away from home. That is nearly thirty years of friendship and brotherhood. I could feel sadness radiating from him. I had not had time to fully explain what this Trainee Program meant, and I think part of him worried he was losing a brother. The weight of that unspoken fear hung between us.
Then he said quietly, “I love you, brother. You’ve been such a big part of my life.” Then he added what we always say to each other, “I got your back bro.”
The words came straight from his heart, heavy with emotion. It hit me square in the chest and suddenly we were both in tears. Thirty years of brotherhood condensed into that moment. Rugby matches, broken-English lessons, family dinners, the way he welcomed a scared fifteen-year-old Taiwanese kid into his world. I wanted to tell him he was not losing me, that I was simply expanding the circle, but there was no time. People were arriving, and soon it was time to go inside.
The ceremony began with reciting Nā mó běn shī Shì jiā móu ní fó (南無本師釋迦牟尼佛, Homage to our Fundamental Teacher, Shakyamuni Buddha) and bowing for half an hour. After a few lines, I looked around and saw my family and friends being guided to their seats. I felt an overwhelming need to welcome them personally. Many were Christians who have never been in a Buddhist monastery before.
When they had all entered, I stopped bowing, walked over, and hugged each one to welcome and appreciate them. That is not something we usually do in the monastery, but I wanted them to feel at home the way they have always made me feel at home. In that moment, I was not trying to be a “good Buddhist” or follow protocol. I was simply Wade, loving the people who first taught me what unconditional love feels like.
Later, some told me it was a touching moment. Some even cried. I think they saw something in that gesture, that I was not becoming someone else. I was becoming more myself. During the recitation and bowing, I periodically turned toward them. Eye contact. A silent thank you for being there.
The energy shifted when the four Dharma Masters entered: Reverend Heng Sure, DM Jin Yong, DM Jin Chuan, and DM Jin Wei. A beautiful solemnity filled the space. The air itself seemed denser and more sacred.
I walked to the center of the hall. I felt calm, solid, grounded. Facing the Dharma Masters, I was relaxed yet focused. Standing in front of everyone I cared about, Buddhist and Christian, Tongan and Taiwanese, monastic and lay, and declaring my intention felt deeply meaningful. This was an important step, and they were all there to witness and support it.
After the Dharma Masters shared their words, I walked out behind them as Chin Jue, beginning a new chapter of my life going to a new continent
Instructions from the Dharma Masters
Trek up Nirvana Mountain
Rev. Heng Sure shared:
“Today, Wade is starting a trek up the top of Nirvana Mountain. To reach that ‘matchless view,’ one must prepare. This Trainee Program is about getting those sturdy boots, learning how far you can walk before you must rest, and how much rest you need to keep going. It is about carrying a bigger pack so you can share your resources with others and bring more people along the way.
To everyone who has questions about what this young man is doing, this event is significant for Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, and America. It is significant for the entire world. Even if, at some point, he decides he needs different training, his willingness to do what is difficult is the best news we can have in a dark time. The view from the top is matchless, and he is making the preparations to get there.”
My reflection: The mountain metaphor landed deeply for me. I have spent years bushwalking and learning my limits, sometimes getting lost, sometimes pushing too hard, sometimes learning when to rest. But this felt different. It was not about reaching a summit. It was about learning to walk a path where the walking itself is the practice.
What struck me most was the permission in his words: “even if, at some point, he decides he needs different training.” This was not a lifetime commitment. It was an invitation to explore. The idea of carrying a bigger pack not for myself but to share resources with others reframed everything. I was not retreating from the world; I was training to return with more to offer.
Hearing my journey described as significant for Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, and America, even the entire world, felt both grand and somehow true. I have spent fifteen years in each of the first three countries, each shaping who I am in ways I am still discovering. America will add another layer. But the significance is not about me. It is about choosing something difficult, something that does not align with the world’s usual logic of accumulation and achievement. That choice itself opens possibilities for myself and others.
Stepping Off the Planet
Rev. Heng Sure continued:
"I told my mom that while I was giving up her dreams for me, I was joining a lineage that has remained unchanged for millennia. She worried about who would care for me if I changed my mind after giving up my money. I compounded her fear by remaining silent for six years. But twenty years later, when I spoke to her, she noticed a change. She said, 'Your voice is so energised and upbeat.'
She told me her friends—who once said her son had 'stepped off the planet'—were now asking for my opinion on their problems. She realised that as a monk, I wouldn't face addiction, bankruptcy, divorce, or the same risks of mental breakdown. She finally told me, 'Having a monk in the family is a good deal.' Reality taught her the value of this path."
My reflection: I thought about my own mother in Taiwan. Would she someday feel the same? Or would I always seem like I had “stepped off the planet”?
Dharma Affinities
DM Jin Yong said:
“This ceremony is significant because it is the first of its kind in Australia and has drawn such a large assembly. This tells me that Wade has great affinities with people. You have immense support behind you, Wade. Keep going.”
My reflection: That felt humbling and slightly terrifying. I do not feel like someone with great affinities. I just try to show up and be kind. Maybe that is what it means to cultivate affinities: showing up repeatedly until connection becomes natural.
Redefining Monasticism
DM Jin Chuan said:
“We sometimes hear the term ‘renouncing the world.’ We wanted to change this phrase ‘leaving home’ to ‘returning home.’”
My reflection: That hit me hard. Returning home. That is exactly what it felt like.
A Taste of Monastic Life
DM Jin Wei shared:
“This formula [of the Eight Precepts] was created by the teacher Shakyamuni Buddha to let his disciples taste the monastic life. How does it feel? How does it fit me?”
My reflection: A taste. Not a lifetime contract but an exploration. Permission to see whether this lifestyle aligns with my deeper aspirations.
Circle with Family and Friends
After the ceremony, my Tongan and outdoor adopted family gathered with DM Jin Chuan and DM Jin Wei in a sharing circle. Everyone offered well-wishes as I prepared to join the Dharma Realm Buddhist Association’s Sangha-Laity Training Program in the United States. Unexpectedly, this moment wove together the threads of my life into one multicultural fabric.
The circle revealed a global mandala of connection. People were present from America, Central Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Taiwan, and Scotland. All my families from down under together for the first time.
I shared my journey. Born in Taiwan, moving to New Zealand at fifteen with broken English and even more broken confidence. Finding my first friend in James through rugby practice and being welcomed into his family. Later in Australia, the Kupu family showed me: “you do not need a lot of money or things in life, but you can always have love.” In hindsight, they were teaching me Buddhism before I knew what Buddhism was.
The monks explained the Trainee Program as a six- to twelve-month exploration. A training of the heart. Training in service, community, stability. Much like outdoor training. Patience, discipline, gradual progress. At Redwood Vihara, nature itself will be part of the practice.
Watching my outdoor friends nod, I realized this explanation resonated with them.
I shared:
“What I’ve learned about Buddhism is that it’s not just a religion, but an education. An education of the heart, harmony, and being a good person. This is similar to what God was teaching at church.”
My Christian family nodded. Their voices reminded of the love and compassion they embodied they showed me embodied Bodhisattva compassion long before I knew the Dharma.
A Continuous Circle of Support
The circle ended with the metaphor of Redwood Vihara’s fairy rings, where new trees grow from ancient roots, all interconnected. A beautiful symbol for lineage, community, and expanded family.
I was reassured that this “love of thousands,” generations of care behind each of us, continues to support me. I am not walking alone. I have been blessed with teachers and friends who have my back no matter what.
As a farewell, my Tongan and Somoan family sang together, “Rejoice in the Lord Always.”
Sitting there, surrounded by faces I have known for decades and others for only a few years, something became clear. I have spent my whole life searching for home. Taiwan to New Zealand to Australia. Sport, Christianity, outdoor spirituality, Buddhism. One family to another.
But maybe home was never a place or a practice. Maybe home is simply this. Feeling safe. Being seen. Being loved. Being supported by people who want you to become who you truly are.
As Chin Jue, I am not leaving Wade behind. I am letting Wade be whole.
