Vientiane Visa Run

The days seem to be sliding one into the next and time is going by surprisingly quickly lately. When I was here last year, it often seemed like days were weeks, weeks were years and the ten weeks of my stay could almost have been a lifetime. It’s been nearly nine weeks since I arrived this time, and it feels like less than that. Certainly not like a lifetime. Time is really a strange thing, and much more subjective than we generally give it credit for. I think we each have our own personal little time system and the universe runs on different clocks for each of us. Why not? It’s an infinite universe after all, so I figure it has room to give everybody their own time experience and still manage to fit it all together somehow… J

There has not been a great deal of adventure or news to write about lately, and I’ve found myself being somewhat disinclined to write much anyway – hence the dearth of postings of late. However, I just returned on Thursday from a trip to Laos to extend my visa and thought that the trip was worthy of a few words at least.

Visas are a big thing for travellers over here and the “visa run” is a something that everyone staying here for more than a couple of months has to get used to. In order to get an extension you have to leave the country, pay for a new visa and then come back again. This means going across the nearest border, hanging out for a couple of days, spending time waiting in lines at the consulate, and things like that. There’s also a whole service business built up around it, I discovered.

In my usual way of not doing a lot of planning beforehand, I looked up (or actually Che Ning looked up for me) some traveler’s posts about visa runs and got the basic outline, as explained above. Thus armed with a minimal idea of where I was going and what I was doing, I caught a lift most of the way to Nhong Kai (Thai city on the Thai side of the Maekong river) and took a bus the rest of the way. I stayed the night in Nhong Kai and had quite a pleasant time walking along the river at dusk and hanging out in a restaurant catering to westerners, eating French fries and listening to “soft rock oldy” sorts of music. 

Nhong Kai side of the river, looking at Laos

A very slow triple wide boat, labouring up the river

I decided I wouldn’t get in too much of a hurry, so I had a relaxing morning and a leisurely breakfast of toast and eggs (what a treat!) and then found a tuk tuk to take me to the border. Tuk tuk drivers pretty much always take you where they think you ought to go, rather than where you actually requested, and my driver stopped off at a visa service place that helps people with their visa runs. I got fixed up with some passport pictures, an application for a Laos visa (which I’m not sure I actually needed) a lift to the border, someone to walk through with me and make sure everything went the way it was supposed to, and a minivan ride to the Thai consulate. All for about 3000 baht, or about $120.  So the trip across the border was pretty simple. I think it would have been fairly simple even without the help (and less expensive), but I wouldn’t have had a picture and it would have been a lot slower. As it was, I breezed through and was at the Thai consulate in no time.

On stepping out of the minivan I was immediately accosted by several people wishing to help me with the Visa application. I went with one of them and for another 3000 baht had an application put together in a jiffy. I was a bit uncertain when he said he’d take my passport and I could come back for it in two days. He was just this guy with a tent and a photocopier on the sidewalk after all. But he gave me his phone number and seemed sincere, so I decided why not. If I lose my passport then it will just be a bit longer adventure, with a few extra twists thrown in.

A tuk tuk driver deposited me at a nearby hotel, which I didn’t like very much as there wasn’t much of interest nearby and it didn’t seem overly clean. I stayed anyway though, as there wasn’t anything else immediately apparent. It was hot and so I spent the afternoon in my room watching TV (kind of a habit in motel rooms I’m afraid), but went for a long walk in the evening.  The next day I went down to the touristy area of Vientiane, which probably covers 10 or 15 square blocks near a wide walking area along the river. The hotel that I decided on here was pretty basic, but much cleaner, and there were many more things to see and do within easy walking distance.

It’s a busy tourist time and there were lots of Europeans around – German and French mostly it seemed, with a few Australians and various others thrown in. I met one Canadian woman from Sqaumish who was there with her husband. He was working on an environmental review project having to do with some thoughts of putting hydro electric dams on the Maekong apparently.

I didn’t talk to many people actually. I found it so easy to meet people when I was travelling in my early twenties, but it seems harder now. There are lots of “older” guys wandering around Thailand and Laos, often with a younger Thai or Laos woman with them, and so I feel kind of like I’m lumped into that general demographic. I don’t really fit in with the youth hostel crowd anymore, and I’m not quite in the “rich and retired” group either, so I didn’t quite know how to fit in. The lady from Squamish had some good advice though – she said you just have to say something immediately when you go into a room, or when you see someone. If you say something right away you can often get a conversation going. If not, it’s like a wall goes up and it’s a lot harder. She’s right actually…

I didn’t really mind the quiet though. I did a lot of walking around looking at shops and restaurants and temples, watching people, walking along the river, watching the sunset, walking through the very large number of booths set up in the evenings on the river walk to sell clothes and paintings, watches and toys and doodads of all sorts, and just practicing enjoying my own company. It seemed to go OK and I got along with myself reasonably well most of the time.  J

Part of the river park and walk area, Laos side

Riverside park area

I also treated myself to a few really good meals. I splurged and went to exclusive, expensive, touristy restaurants – something which I don’t normally do. Splurging in Laos means spending $10.00 for a meal instead of $1 or $2, but it all adds up you know. Anyway, my two favorites were the Balsamic chicken at “Sticky Fingers” – served artistically with mashed potatotoes, vegetables, marinated eggplant and capers and very very good, and a “Salade peasan” with a foundation of soft buttercrunch type lettuce, two softly poached eggs, shredded red cabbage, soft sundried tomatoes, bacon pieces, marinated mushrooms and a dressing that tied it all together. Really tasty!  J

I went for a long walk along in the sand on the river flood plain the morning of the day I was to pick up my passport and found a place where I could get to the water and stick a foot in it. (I seem to have been rewarded for this with a slightly infected toe however – or maybe it was from something else. It’s presently bandaged with antiseptic ointment and getting better I think). Then it was back to the consulate to find William (my passport guy) waiting with the visa all done and a driver to take me back to the border. So, off I went, zoomed through the border, picked up some coffee at the duty free for some people at the temple and was just about to get on the bus to go across the bridge back to the Thai side of the river when someone called out “Todd??”. It turns out some people from the temple had gone over to shop at the duty free store, so I got a ride back to the temple with them. It all went pretty smoothly. Not planning, when done trustingly and flexibly, can work out pretty well!

Sandy cut-bank - Laos side

Small boat, and looking across at Thailand

That’s about it for now. I’ve been doing some minor leaf raking and helping Che Ning work on an English FAQ for the temple website (haven’t gotten very far yet) and enjoying the cooler temperatures. The afternoons are still a bit uncomfortable, but much more bearable and the mornings and evenings are wonderful. December is a great time to be in Thailand actually!

For learning lately, I think a movie I watched the other day kind of sums it up nicely. The movie was “Bolt” – the Walt Disney cartoon about a dog who plays a TV superhero dog and thinks he has all these super powers. He ends up getting lost and finds out he doesn’t actually have the super powers he thought he did, and has to find his way across the country back home again with a reluctant cat. Along the way he discovers it’s kind of fun just being a dog and learns how to do “dog stuff”, like sticking his head out of a car window with his tongue hanging out, chasing sticks, burying bones and things like that. It was kind of a fun message in the ongoing repeated message to myself that it’s really OK to just be who and what I am, how I am. Also, the message – from a couple of rather different sources – that “enlightenment” just is, and it is already. As David Hawkins says, “All you have to do to be enlightened is to stop being unenlightened”.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcOW6-dHPtc takes you to the short David Hawkins video from which this quote cameth. This one about "surrender" is kind of interesting too: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjyVBG3WvdE )  Or, as a person here at the temple said, enlightenment comes before the “path”. First, know you’re already there. Then live as if you were.

Sounds pretty good I guess…

I probably won’t get another post out before Christmas, but I believe I will be spending Christmas camping at the top of Phu Kra deung, a nearby mountain and wildlife reserve area – so I’ll probably have something to tell about when I get back.

Until then, have a wonderful holiday season. Wishing you lightness and ease and being OK with whatever is with you…

Have a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Todd

Make me one with everything...

I had intended to get this posted on Monday, but I’ve been sick for a few days and so haven’t gotten it done. It’s the first time I’ve been stay-in-bed sick in all of my time in Thailand so far, so I guess that’s not too bad. I’m glad to be feeling better though, as it was one of those flues that seems to affect pretty much every part of the body. I spent a bit of time amusing myself at one point with describing my various complaints like Snow White’s dwarves – I had Achy, Dizzy, Crampy, Grumpy, Sweaty, and occasionally Chilly, Shakey and Runny (I won’t go into which end Runny was concerned with). Add to that a few inflamed mosquito bites (Itchy) and a rather discourteous return of a few ants (Crawley) and I had the full complement of 7, plus 3 extra dwarves, all in the same bed. Not a very happy prospect, I can tell you!  Thankfully, things do change and pretty much the entire troupe has now “Hi Ho, Hi Ho’d” off to somewhere else.

It is now Dec. 1 and although I know I shouldn’t be complaining, I’m been having some twinges of missing cooler, drier air that doesn’t make one’s clothes stick to one, and suck the energy out of a person quite so effectively. I think maybe Grumpy is still hanging around actually as he keeps popping up. It’s been raining quite a lot the last few days and the air is very humid. The nights are cooler, but there is so much water in the air that the cool evenings make the dew fall almost like rain. The sun is shining brightly at the moment though.

I had a bit of an adventure last weekend when I went on a trip to visit another “Guru” sort of person, and to attend another Khaiten for a small forest temple. I left the temple here at around 4:00 AM Sat. morning in the company of several monks, nuns and other laypeople in a very full van and drove about six hours to the home of this teacher. I won’t say a great deal about him, as I’m not sure how much he wants to be advertised. It was very interesting to meet another “teacher” with some renown, however, and to see the vast differences in style and way of being that teachers have. I did feel quite honoured though, in that he gave me some special attention, some gifts, and a new name. Kind of cool. J

We stayed at his house on Sat. night and had dinner there, which was also rather an adventure for me. It was “country food” consisting of raw shrimp (cleaned but with tails on and soaked in a sauce of some sort), cooked whole shrimp, something apparently made from pig’s blood or some mushed up inner part of a pig (covered with a bit of blood for sauce – cooked I think), what I believe was cow intestine or stomach, rice, and some sort of soup. I made it through most of the raw shrimp, tripe, cooked shrimp, and rice, but didn’t eat much of the pig stuff. It’s all in what you get used to I guess.

Dinner

The next morning was the Khaetin celebration at the forest temple. The temple was very rustic and basic, but quite a pretty place with a small pond and trees drooping branches over the water. I’m finding that I am not very interested in ceremonial Buddhism at this point, but the monks did a bit of chanting that was quite relaxing to listen to, and I think meant to convey a blessing. There was also a big meal, served first to the monks (far more than they could eat) and then served to everybody else from what was left over – still more than we could eat.

After the meal we made a quick trip back to the house and then headed for home. The drive this time seemed to me to go on and on. We drove through small towns, past rice paddies being readied for new planting, and others with rice still nearing readiness for harvest, shanty-town looking vending stalls by the roadside all empty at this season with their thatched roofs in disarray, lakes and mountains, forests and a small city or two. Our driver was very good, but drove in the thai style of find a tailgate and stick to it until there’s a small opening in the other lane, dash around and jump back onto your own side in the nick of time, dodge the motorcycles, zoom up to the next slower vehicle, and so on. Everyone drives this way and it all works rather well. People make room for each other and I think they are able to bend space kind of like the Night Bus on Harry Potter, getting thinner at just the right moment so that more vehicles than are supposed to fit on a particular stretch of road can pass each other without colliding.

I found myself pondering what makes things ordinary or extraordinary on my way home. Here I was, zooming dangerously down a road in Thailand with a van full of monks after just visiting a guru of some apparent renown, and feeling like it was all fairly normal. Just me, sitting here you know…   J

My brother, Jeremy, and I were going to write a course about “Making the Ordinary Extraordinary”, at one time. I think that most of the time we actually do the opposite – we make the extraordinary world around us and all of our extraordinary experiences into just ordinary life. I suppose that a Buddhist would say that really, nothing is either ordinary or extraordinary. It just is…  There is a difference in experience between the dullness of “ordinary” and the vibrancy of “IS” however, even though they may refer to the same object or experience.

I have had some changing ideas about what it is that makes a “Master” or “Guru” in the sense of teachers of Buddhism, or perhaps teachers of “Truth” regardless of religion – though “truth” is a bit of a loaded word with many different meanings to different people. “Masters” it seems, tend to not fit into molds or stereotypes, not conform to social conventions, and not fit into one’s expectations. People have a tendency to put their teacher(s) up on a shelf and think that there can be no questioning, no disagreeing and the master can do no wrong. They create an illusion of what they expect and drape it over the “master” like a blanket – or perhaps more aptly, project it on him or her as if from a movie projector. Part of a “master’s” job, perhaps, is to sometimes shock people out of this by doing things that don’t fit the picture.

Ajahn Cha, a famous teacher from this area, says that enlightened beings live in the world just like worldy beings. They look like everyone else and you never know if the person you pass on the street is ordinary or extraordinary. The difference is that enlightened people know how to let go of what they feel and experience almost immediately and they have no need to follow the thoughts, feelings and desires so they don’t make them bigger.  They know that they are OK as they are, they don’t need to learn more or be more, so whatever is just IS and they don't make more suffering for themselves with their minds. That’s the only difference between ordinary and extraordinary.  

I've also been thinking about words and explanations, and their relative worth. It can be kind of freeing to consider the possibility that knowledge and thoughts and explanations like I try to give in some of these posts are all wrong anyway, because they are already gone. The words are records of experience that has already happened, in a context that no longer fully exists. They are useful, but only as a flowing part of experience that continues on without them. I hope that if you find things here that cause you to feel upset or to think too much or in other ways bother you that you will just let them go and consider them as unimportant and of no use to you - and accept my apologies...  It is not my intention to cause misunderstandings or difficulties!

A friend (thanks Fraser) sent this Zen poem that I like very much. In typical Zen fashion it has some extra meaning, “hidden” where words can’t go…

A Six line Poem

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.

(Hint – you have to count the lines in order for this poem to have its full meaning)

Ajahn Cha compared learning about the “truth” as he saw it to the way a mango grows. (If you’re interested, here’s a link to the full text: http://www.ajahnchah.org/book/Knowing_World1.php) For those of us from colder climbs, an apple or zucchini would do just as well I suppose. J The point is that the apple or zucchini starts as a seed, grows into a plant, sprouts a blossom, goes through various stages of growing and ripening, and becomes a ripened fruit. In the same way the poem above explains there is a time to know that there is God, there is a time to know that “I am” there is a time to just be and…  For all things there is a season and a time and we each are ripening in our own way and own time. A good teacher, like a good gardener, gives what is needed (not what is expected) at the time that it is needed.

One of the teachings that seems to be in its “time” right now around here is to have and express an intention to let go of expectations in all ways and of all types. Keep giving away expectations and you will eventually begin to automatically act without expectation and to live without expectation. This is a big step in freedom…

Well, I think I’ll stop writing here before my attempts to explain things become even more confusing. I think it’s helpful to not take any of it too seriously, so I’ll end with another little story that I quite like, with thanks to Andrew for sending it to me:

A Zen monk walks into the pizza parlour.

Cook: What do you want to order?

Monk: Make me one with everything

The cook makes the pizza and gives the monk his pie. The monk pays with a fifty and waits to get his change back but no change is offered.

Monk: Hey, where's my change?

Cook: Real change comes from within.

_____________________________

So that's it for this time.  One note though - apparently making comments is not working very well for some of you. That's OK actually, as I don't get a chance to read them very often anyway. It would be better to send a note to me via email as then I will be more likely to actually see it. If you don't have my email address, it's: stormchild1@gmail.com

Be kind, live simply, don’t interfere

It’s 7:30 PM and I’m sitting in my room. Someone is watching a movie on a portable DVD player outside my window and Thai movie voices are drifting in, along with the sound of the crickets, and an engine running somewhere. I went for a walk after the evening gathering tonight and sat by one of the small ponds looking up at the stars. The night is warm and the pavement that I sat on still held the heat from the day. Only the brighter stars shone through the light from a quarter moon, but the many silent diamond points seemed to call me outward.

I was given a book with questions about Buddhism, answered simply. One of the questions was about how the Buddha thought we should live. It answered with a story about all of the different kinds of birds in Tibet getting together for a meeting to decide how they could best live together. After a long meeting with much discussion, they decided that the best answer to the question was for all birds to take only as much food as they needed.

I kind of liked the simplicity of that. I’ve been talking with Ning quite a lot lately and some of the discussions have been about this idea. “Don’t do things to harm or interfere with yourself or others”, and “live simply” are some of the basic guidelines for living here. At this temple, there are no set rules, and what rules there are seem to be more suggestions than dictates. Even these two “suggestions” have a fairly wide range of interpretation. However, there is actually quite a lot of weight that is removed from one’s life when one simplifies the things that are considered to be “essential”.

Hmm. I don’t seem to be terribly eloquent tonight, but I’ve had many discussions lately and wanted to share some of the things that we have been talking about. When here, discussions are pretty much all about dhamma – about the teachings of the place, of the Buddha, of how to live them or understand them. It probably sounds like this could get a bit wearying – which it can at times. It’s amazing how many times and in how many ways one needs to hear something before it begins to make sense though.

Realizing this, I am afraid that the following snippets may be less than immediately enlightening for you. However, I wanted to write them down while I am thinking about them, and perhaps they can be food for thought, or maybe one or two ideas can be helpful.

Lots of what is taught here revolves around not judging things: “Don’t accept or deny, both are judgements. When you disagree or reject something you create your own headache. When you accept or subscribe to something, it’s pretty much the same.” There is a middle ground where you don’t have to accept or deny or even put a great deal of thought into it. In the way of all things “Zen” however, there is a paradox where thought doesn’t work very well. It doesn’t mean one should not have an opinion about things and it doesn’t mean that one should have an opinion or judgment. Just don’t take either judging or not judging (or the “self” that is doing the judging) too seriously.

“There are no mistakes if you don’t have a desire to gain something or get somewhere”. Mistakes can only exist if you think you are trying to get something and don’t get it. If you can be open to whatever comes, then no step is a miss-step.

Along the same lines, the idea that it is OK to be exactly who and what we are, without needing to fix it or change it or improve it, or otherwise do things to it comes up over and over and sinks in a little bit further each time. We are, or perhaps I am, so accustomed to instantly deciding if a part of me needs improving or not, and then seeking to change it, that it is difficult to settle into acceptance. It’s difficult to accept that letting go of the illusion of control does not mean stagnation, complacency, or laziness.

“The mind will unwind itself. It only needs the time and space to do it”. Along the same lines as above. Like a wind-up toy, as long as we keep winding, the mind will be tight, full, and busy. Stop the winding, and it will loosen on its own.

“Don’t give meaning to what you hear, see, smell, touch, taste, think. Don’t judge it or hate it, love it or fear it or be attracted to it. Just let it be. This is also changing. This is also impermanent”. This doesn’t mean you can’t feel, that you should avoid experience, control it, push it away, disengage from life. Everything is constantly changing. You can’t hold on, even if you try. So, relax and don’t try so hard.

Here is Ning’s way of saying pretty much the same thing:

Firstly, don’t care. (meaning, as above, don’t judge or hate or like or fear etc.) However, if you do care then:

Don’t fix (meaning, don’t get stuck to, fixed to, or bonded to the caring). But… if you get do get stuck to something then:

Don’t worry about it.

I would add, if you worry about it, then don’t worry about worrying about it.

At some point along the way, just end up by letting go.

The result of these things, and the reason for them, is to let the mind unravel and release the weights that we carry and the many things that we hold on to. Just because I set a boulder down on the ground does not mean that I hate it or that I’ve lost it. I don’t have to carry it though. Letting go does not mean losing, it just means not carrying. It also means giving freedom – freedom to come and go, be with or not with and be OK.

Ka-hae-mee-sewan (my phonetics): A declaration meaning “I share all of what I have and what I am”. It is used as a kind of blessing. Giving in this way is like offering a light to the world. However large or small the light, it is not diminished by its giving. Perhaps especially when we feel small or like we have nothing to give, this is a helpful practice. Give the light you have, give in whatever way works for you, and you discover that there is more worthiness than you thought. We all have so much that we can give.

A-Hoe-see (my phonetics again): May all be forgiven, or perhaps to say it more definitely “All is forgiven”. Used often between people or in situations where there are negative feelings or discomfort. It can also be used at any time there are internal thoughts or feelings that are causing discomfort. It is an asking, and giving, of forgiveness as a clearing of connections, expectations, and bonds that keep us from being free. The word is useful, as it carries many meanings and a lot of depth. However, you can use your own words and meanings too. Pretty much all religions, I think, have a way of asking for, and giving, forgiveness.

It’s tomorrow and I’m just adding a couple of words before posting this. I have been having some quieter days here over the past while, and spending less time with the computer. My posts to this blog seem to be getting a bit fewer and farther between. It is still hot, in defiance of the fact that it is supposed to be winter. The weather report says it’s 34 degrees here today, with 37 expected for tomorrow. Yikes! It’s apparently -12 and snowing at home, so the temperature gap between here and there is fairly wide. Basically though, I’m just settling in and letting things sift and flow over and through me. It feels like a healing time and I still feel glad that I came. 

Mountains, Zen, and flaming lanterns

It’s 8:14 PM as I start to write this. I just came into my room after sitting outside for about 20 minutes watching the stars and the flaming lanterns floating by. This is the night before Kaithin, which is a big gathering time that is held by every temple shortly after the end of Buddhist lent. Ours is tomorrow. Tonight there are several hundred extra people and it’s quite a busy place. There is a whole row of booths set up to offer free food and treats tomorrow, and the Lantam – gathering area – is all decorated with flowers, bunches of bananas and other food. I watched the lanterns on my own, rather than going to where they were being sent off. It was peaceful to sit with the twinkling stars and the orange glow of the lanterns growing, then getting fainter as they sailed off into an indeterminate distance.

Food booths - not so crowded as earlier

Money trees and offerings

Yesterday I was invited on a trip again, which I thought had the goal of gathering more bananas. It turned out to be a hike up a small mountain in search of some the ingredients for the medicine tea that Gan’s monk friend brews. Seven of us hiked for about 20 minutes up a steep slope through groves of bamboo and then up to the limestone peak, all eroded and dissolved into sharp and jagged knife edged ridges, deep holes and slices all festooned with vines and creepers. I find these kinds of mountains to have a prehistoric feel and look to them, and keep expecting to see dinosaurs coming around a corner or peeking out of a hole.

Going up

Sharp rocks

Arched hole in the mountain, seen from our mountain top

Through the bamboo

The ingredients we were after this time turned out to be a kind of tree, or very thick woody vine – I’m not sure which – that was growing near the top of the mountain. The particular one we collected was about 40 feet long I think and grew up the side of a cliff, through a hole in the rock and out and up on the other side. The monk hacked it down with a machete and cut it into manageable lengths, then we carried it down the hill again, arriving hot, sweaty and dirty at the bottom. It was quite a fun adventure actually, especially preceded as it was by lunch in the garden of the grandmother’s place and followed by snacks from a market that appeared across the street from her house when we got back. It had all of the things one would expect from a Thai country market – deep fried chicken feat, some really smelly fish dipped in batter and hopefully cooked really well, lots of vegetables I can’t identify, various sorts of fruit and treats, fresh and unrefrigerated meat in the hot sun, smiling people milling about and bright and happy sounding Thai music blaring from bad speakers. I bought a couple of small watermelons for about 80 cents each and we bought a variety of other snacky sorts of things.

The day also involved discussions about the nature of things, of course, and what it means to live at the temple. In Buddhist belief, everything that exists does so because of a chain of cause and effect that goes back to the very beginning of all things. The universe as we know it is a vast interconnection of cause and effect running forward and perpetuating itself in an endless cycle of arising and passing away. Karma is this cycle of cause and effect and means just that – the effects of previous causes that in turn become more causes leading to more effects, etc.

There are three kinds of karma. “Bad” Karma is the karma of evil or ignorant action and it results in “bad” effects. Good Karma is the opposite and results in good or pleasant effects. However, Buddhists see both good and bad as being equal or similar in that they both result in continuing motion and continuation of the cycle of cause and effect. This cycle is believed to run forever from life to death to life to death and so on. As long as there is a continuation of Karma, there is a continuation of the cycle of life and death. There is also a third kind of Karma which is not good or bad, and is concerned with not being attached to things. This third kind cancels out the good and the bad because it is both and neither. It’s not concerned with results, but with stopping.

As a simpler way of thinking about it, you can imagine being in a pool of water and splashing about. The splashing makes waves and the waves will continue as long as you keep splashing. Stop splashing and hold still for a while and the waves will stop. Good and bad Karma both involve more splashing and both make waves. If you stop being concerned with either one, and stop moving about so much, the waves diminish.

All this is to explain how and why the way of life at temple is pretty much completely upside down from what one finds in most of the rest of the world. Out in “the world” one is generally concerned with making things happen, making goals and obtaining them, getting results, being productive, and all of those sorts of things. This is OK, but it’s also a lot like splashing about in the pool. It continues to make more waves. At the temple, the focus is on stopping and so they aren’t particularly concerned with wanting things, or not wanting things, doing things or not doing things, obtaining or achieving or not obtaining or achieving. Rather, the focus here is on letting everything flow through without trying to give it too much meaning or getting too involved in it.

Driving through a small city, for instance, it was suggested that I should “not pay attention and not be curious”. “Don’t try to interpret or make connections,” “Don’t give meaning to everything. It doesn’t have any intrinsic meaning. The only meaning is what you give it, and you don’t need to give it any meaning at all. Just let it go.”

The result of this is a mind state which is very flowing. Feelings, thoughts and emotions flow in and just as quickly flow out. The experience is still there, the appearance is the same, but the experience is of things not sticking. It is also an experience of not taking things personally or holding onto problems or disagreements. Some people here, I am learning, can be very direct and seemingly negative with each other, but since the practice is to let go of whatever comes up, it doesn’t last and people aren’t bothered by it. Things are not repressed or controlled – but they are released without intention of harm. If someone is offered negative energy or feelings, the practice is to not take it personally, not keep it or hold onto it in any way. Just let it flow and go.

Now and then I experience bits of what I think of as this “flowing” state. It feels quite good actually, like a stream running through that just carries experience with it and removes the need to get stuck to anything. It’s a free and creative feeling since it allows the moment to be what it is without judgment, and this allows the next moment to be free and spontaneous too. It also involves a great deal of trust – trust that each moment will happen on its own and there is no necessity to try to control it. Whatever is needed in that moment will be there, inside and outside.

Of course, a particular sensation or feeling is just another passing thing and should not be attached to. My present understanding will change and the sensation of “flowing” will change too. Sometimes it will be there and other times not – just like anything else that comes along. Flowing allows for the experience of flowing to also be flowing…  J

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Now it is tomorrow afternoon, counting from when I started writing this. I went out into the world feeling somewhat lonely, alone and homesick this morning, for a variety of reasons – some of which I am aware of and many others of which I probably am not. It’s interesting how the more people there are around the easier it is to feel alone Though. I think there may be an equation in there somewhere as well, but I drained the batteries of the mathematics particle in my brain on the last equation and it’s going to take a while to recharge.

Many people’s families came, and old friends from all over Thailand, and so everyone was busy entertaining people that they knew from elsewhere. I’m still the only Western person anywhere around and though everyone is very kind and eager to include me, I still feel like a pea in a field of beans, or something like that. Similar, but not quite fitting in. Of course, this is just the meaning I’m giving to the feeling. I could just as easily feel welcomed, supported and included (all of which are also true). We sort out what we want in any given moment I guess.

This seemed a good time for some practical application of what I was pontificating about last night. Here were all of these feelings and interpretations that I was experiencing. I could feel them pulling and jostling inside and feel how much my mind wants to dig into them, figure them out, dwell on them, hold onto them and identify with them, even though they aren’t very comfortable. I was therefore busily splashing about in the pool and making the waves bigger and more complicated with every splash. The way here is to not try to suppress or get rid of them, but also not pay attention to them. Leave them alone and they will do whatever they need to do, stay as long as they need to stay, and go away on their own. Stop splashing about and let the waves settle.

I talked to Ning briefly at breakfast. I sent a note to her last night, part of which explained that I’d gotten my phone to work as a portable hotspot so I can check my email from my room now (sometimes, when it works). She said that this morning the image of the portable hotspot came to her as she was sitting in the assembly, because she felt like she was a portable hotspot for a little while. When we clear out some of the blockages and resistance inside, there is an energy, or light, that begins to flow through and shine more brightly and this light shines out to others as well. I think that we are always receiving and broadcasting actually, and it is the frequency of what we pay attention to that we both receive and increase with our broadcast. On a practical, here and now basis, we get uncomfortable results when we focus on “bad” or negative thoughts and feelings, more comfortable results when we focus on “good” or positive feelings, and a freeing, opening, releasing result when we allow both good and bad to flow. Without needing to believe in the life after life thing, and also letting go of all of the negative connotations of Karma as “fate”, I think the idea of the three kinds of karmas or cause/effect relationships can be helpful in the here and now. Release from the stickiness of emotional drama can be a relief at any time...

I’m trying to write what I’m feeling and experiencing, though words don’t really do a good job of describing these things. I’m not sure why I think it’s useful to do this, but it’s what I’m doing at the moment so I guess I’ll keep at it for a while at least.

I will send a wish for anyone who wants it – to release the feelings, judgments, and attachments that are hurting you, blocking you, or causing you pain and allow them to dissolve away, or perhaps lift away like the lanterns I saw last night. Light a candle and let the heat of the flame fill a floating lantern to lift them from your life and carry them away, beacons to light the sky of others…

Gardens, stories, stillness and more bananas

This morning I went to the garden again and finished a pineapple row. I paced off the length of it and was somewhat dismayed to discover that’s it only about 110 meters long, and not the 200 or 300 meters that I had estimated before. I guess distances are longer when they’re full of weeds. That’s probably a part of the theory of relativity somewhere. Einstein got around to figuring out E = mc² and the special and general theories of relativity, where time, velocity and distance all affect each other. However, he didn’t know about some of the other strange interactions that can happen with distance. For instance, I’ve derived the formula  d = W/cm²  x  (I³/P²)  x  MM/ 2   (That’s distance = weeds per square centimeter times the cube of one’s impatience or irritation level (they are interchangeable) divided by the square of one’s inner peacefulness, times the distance you’d get if you actually measured it with a meter stick while not doing any weeding, divided by 2. I’m not sure why it’s divided by two, but it needed to be divided by something somewhere, and 2 seemed like a good number. As an aside, “I” (for impatience and/or irritation level) is measured in a unit somewhat like the erg, but it’s measured in “irks” instead. The more irked you are, the longer your row to hoe, so to speak. Note that impatience grows faster than peacefulness. However, if peacefulness is larger than impatience or irritation, the quotient becomes less than one and the row actually gets shorter. Doesn’t math always just make things a lot clearer?  J

Anyway, I haven’t been writing as much lately and it’s been a couple of days already since I started this post. Being here is a bit like soaking in a solvent that dissolves stuff that has been accumulated inside and floats it off somewhere. Or maybe it’s like being a jar of turbid water that’s put down on a shelf and left to sit quietly for a while so that the sediment settles and the water is clearer. Or maybe it’s not like either of those things. The point is, I’m feeling my mind quieting a bit and it’s harder to get it focused on computer things. I’m a little bit worried that it’s going to start getting harder to describe the experiences again soon as well.

When I came last time it was like this too. At first it feels kind of like a quiet retreat somewhere. It’s a bit less comfortable than a resort in Cancun or something, but it’s restful and renewing in its own way. As you sink into it more, however, you start to notice changes inside. I should say “I”, maybe. Perhaps other people experience it differently. In any case, thoughts begin to quiet down a bit and there are times when there is more stillness inside. They talk about “letting go” in many ways here, and a lot of this has to do with just not paying attention to or holding onto thoughts and emotions as they pass by. The “solvent” effect helps this along, so that things that used to stick don’t so much anymore. Another image is that we’re all covered in Velcro and through the day all kinds of stuff gets thrown at us that sticks to the Velcro until we’re buried in stuff sticking to us. It feels like the being slowly de-velcroed, so that not only are you not carrying as much stuff, new stuff doesn’t stick as much or as long.

When I used to meditate, I was taught that when we allow the mind to become still and we stop taking in so much new “stuff” then old “stuff” that we’ve stored inside starts to rise to the surface and come out. This is a healthy process, like cleaning the cupboards and sweeping under the stove – or so I’m told. It’s also what happens with good therapy, using Western psychology, or at least with psychotherapeutic and/or body based therapy. The thing is, the mind has many layers and who we are is such a mystery. The longer one is here, the more it feels like the scene in the Matrix where Neo is asked to choose between the blue pill and the red pill. “How deep does the rabbit hole go?” And if you go there, can you talk about it or communicate it in any intelligible way?

So, outside, life goes on as normal. Some monks were welding a support for some solar panels today, everyone is busy getting ready for Khaitin (pronounced like Gateen I think) – a big festival that every monastery holds once a year – the sun comes up and goes down, people sleep and eat and work. Inside, there’s a kind of openness that is growing and more times when I sit and don’t think about anything at all for a moment or two – just kind of feel the world around me. I’ve felt that in the garden mostly, though it’s also so hot working in the sun that people remark about how red my face is and my clothes are soaked with sweat. Part of me sinks into the feeling with a kind of grateful relief, and part of me looks at it suspiciously. A friend wrote in an email the other day about a feeling of “Now I’ve got you exactly where you want me.”  This suspicious part is worried about being too still I think. It is also the part that frets about things and needs to be entertained, or that gets uncomfortable after sitting still and gets up with a list of things that need to be done. It’s useful, but sometimes too insistent.

It’s a kind of Zen Buddhist approach here, where there are lots of paradoxes and things can get topsy turvy. Don’t focus or concentrate, don’t pay attention to the mind and what it does, don’t try to get things done but don’t not try to do anything. You don’t have to do nothing, just don’t try to do something…  Ning described holding on with an example of hands. Generally they are relaxed and open. If you want to pick something up and hold onto it, it takes intention and energy. To keep holding continues to take energy. The same is true of thoughts and emotions. To hold onto them takes energy, but it’s such a habit that we don’t know we’re doing it. We keep holding on and tire or stress ourselves out.

It makes sense. But things have a way of turning inside out all the time – like one of Douglas Adam’s Characters in his book “So Long and Thanks for all the Fish”. This character, “Wonko the Sane” built his house inside out so that the inside walls, furniture and things were on the outside, and the outside walls were on the inside. That way, the world was “inside” his insane asylum house, and he lived outside – which is why he thought he was sane. Everyone else was in the asylum.

And… around and about all of this is the subject of stories. It’s all about stories – the stories on the inside and the stories on the outside. The stories that we tell ourselves so that we can think we understand the world a little bit. The stories that can change as we grow or understand differently, and the stories that we hold onto for dear life because without them we feel lost.  Oh the stories...  J

Tomorrow, I’ve been asked to go and help cut bananas and bring them back here. I’m not sure what that will entail – I assume a bit of hacking with knives and carrying banana bunches while hopefully avoiding large spiders. Guess I’ll see tomorrow…

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Just posting this and will quickly add that the banana cutting turned out to involve lots of driving, a very little bit of cutting and carrying, lots of bumping along on back roads lined with rice fields and rubber tree plantations, and no big spiders.

Dealing with Kneeling

The last couple of days have been quite quiet, as I’ve mainly sequestered myself in my room and have been avoiding people. This is actually a bit difficult to do since if I want to eat I have to go to the gathering in the morning (or go to town and buy something) and that tends to mean running into lots of people with suggestions of things to do or talk about or places to go. I went to the garden the other day and did a stint for a couple of hours hoeing pineapple plants. It actually felt kind of good to be out there and to look back and know I’d done something when I was done. (It was awfully hot though, and I felt a bit like a wet dishrag when I was done) There’s a very large field of pineapples interspersed with rows of trees. The rows seem very long – maybe 300 or 400 meters and there’s not a lot of help out there so some of them are pretty overgrown. It’s hard to find the poor pineapple plants sometimes. Anyway, I’ve not been back yet despite saying that I would and have been hiding out in my room instead.

I’ve actually been really really tired for some reason, and feeling very antisocial. There’s been a bit of a flue or cold bug or something going around and so maybe my body is fighting that. Whatever the reason, here I am. (Note: I wrote this two days ago. I'm not still in my room, and I did go back for another stint in the garden...)  :-)

This morning however, while attempting to avoid being asked to go anywhere, I was invited to a lunch that a woman was putting on for her son’s birthday. Usually when I’m invited to lunch it just means me and a couple of other people having a small social gathering. Today I arrived to the sound of chanting (which was actually quite nice) and found about 20 monks arranged on the floor around two big plastic mats, with food piled in the middles. They finished their chanting and the eating started – monks first as is the custom here, served by the nuns and laypeople. There wasn’t room for two groups, so we brought food to the monks, and waited for them to be finished. I didn’t help much and mostly tried to stay out of the way, but at one point I was handing out some dessert custard and one of the monks said quite nicely “please sit”. At first I thought he was inviting me to join him, which was strange because it was kind of a formal dinner situation and I wasn’t a monk. Then I realized he was saying I shouldn’t hand food to monks by just bending over and giving it to them, I needed to kneel down and then hand it to them, and he was instructing me in his culture.

Well, I understand that this is Thai culture and I know that Thai people learn to kneel and bow to monks and royalty from birth. I also understand that it is a way of showing respect and that to Thai people it is showing respect to the role of the monk as much or more than to the individual person. It is part of what makes Thai society work and it is a good practice in letting go of some parts of ego. It is also a sometimes helpful contrast to the lack of respect that we have for authority in the West – a lack of respect that renders being in charge of things an often very difficult and thankless task.

So, I know all of this, but I still found myself gritting my teeth about being asked to kneel to give some frigging dessert to these guys. I’ve been doing pretty well with the kneeling and bowing at the morning gatherings. There’s quite a bit of it sometimes, but it turns out to be quite a good stretch routine and kind of helpful for the knees and back, so when I get uptight about it I just make it into exercise. The combination of being asked to kneel (however politely) to serve food though kind of pushed my tolerance level a bit.

It all went OK of course. The monks finished and left and the rest of us ate what was left (there was plenty), and the day went on.

It generally doesn’t help to resist things very much I suppose, but sometimes it just comes up and there it is. What to do about it? Just notice it I guess and don’t get too concerned, like with anything else that comes up. I doubt that my resistance to kneeling is going to make a lot of difference in the world as we know it anyway. I’m not even sure if it’s called for – respect is an important part of a social system. I would have to say, though, that I’m officially against indiscriminate kneeling and postures of subservience, and if there’s an anti kneeling and postures of subservience group in existence somewhere I would be a card carrying member, except that I’m also somewhat resistant to groups organized for the purpose of resistance...

So there…   J

Arjuna at the temple

It’s Oct. 30 and I just got back from breakfast and “gin ya” – drinking the morning herbal medicine drink. Nan patiently helped me to pronounce letters in the children’s alphabet learning book that she got for me. The four year old girl, Patti, helped too, and traced some of the letters. She’s pretty good - I think she knows the Thai alphabet better than I do at the moment. Thankfully, I'm still a bit better than her with the English one!

Tonight will be the full moon, which is always a big time for Buddhists. However, this is a special full moon marking the end of the Buddhist lent -  a three month period during the rainy season when monks have to stay in one place and can’t travel anywhere. It is supposed to be a time of reflection and retreat for them. Tonight will be celebrated with hot air lanterns that are set adrift in the sky and banana leaf boats lit with candles that are set to float on rivers and waterways. I was here for the festival last year, so have any idea of what it looks like. I’ll wait to tell you more about it until later though.

What’s in my mind this morning is a conversation I had with a man who comes to the temple whenever he can. We have been talking in the breakfast line each morning actually. He always waits until the end of the line and makes sure that everyone else eats first.

... A momentary aside... I’m sitting out in the common area of the house where I stay and all of the young nains – novices – who stay here have come up and are standing around me at the moment. They are quite interested in the typing that I’m doing, but it’s hard to concentrate…  I showed them some pictures of mountains and Stewart Lake and things.   OK – they’re off to do something else now…

Anyway, this man, who says his nickname in Thai sounds like “Boy” is a five stripe sergeant in the Thai army and is a commander of a special forces unit that does things like defusing bombs, going into situations where there is a threat of terrorism, and other “first in – last out” situations where special skills are needed.  He seems to be a very kind, calm, gentle, and compassionate person and he was telling me how he struggles with his work and worries about the Karma that he is accumulating by doing what he does. He told me today that he talked to a colleague last night and six people (I’m not sure if they were from his squad of 40 or not, but I think they were) have been killed in the last few days trying to defuse land mines that were set by separatist groups in the southernmost islands of Thailand. He has to go back to this in a few days.

He made me think of the story of Arjuna in the Bhagavad Ghita. The Bhagavad Ghita starts with Arjuna, who is a young prince, standing in his chariot beside the God Krishna. Two armies are lined up and ready to join in battle and Arjuna is hesitating because he doesn’t see the point to fighting. He sees that there are his family members on both sides, good people on both sides, and the reason for fighting seems to be unclear, or not worth it. He asks Krishna about it, saying that it would be better to go away and leave the fight than to go into a battle like this.

Surprisingly, Krishna says no, don’t go away. You need to fight this battle Arjuna. Most of the rest of the book is about why this is so, and how to go about being in the fight without developing hatred or enmity or attachment to a desired outcome, but being there in a way that sees the deep truth of the world.

I have often wondered about this, and how to apply it, or if it can be applied in my own life. Sometimes I think I’m running away from the battle (some would probably say that’s what I’m doing now by being here actually. On the other hand, coming here could also been seen as taking on the challenge and entering the "battle" in a different way I suppose. It gets tricky when you allow yourself to see more than one viewpoint). Sometimes it feels like I’m in the thick of it and forget the part about not getting attached to particular outcomes. Sometimes I have moments of feeling like I touch on understanding the idea of being in the middle of “the battle” and being OK with it.

The word that they use for this here, I believe, sounds like "Tomkran". It literally means "in the center", and is used to denote being in the center of the whirlwind, the center of the battle or the center of whatever has come your way and maintaining that center so that there is still balance. It means being in the midst of the battle without becoming attached to outcomes. It is also a concept in Aikido, which is a martial art that uses the concept of circles in its philosophy and application. In Aikido, one strives to maintain a dynamic center that responds to all outside pressures and challenges, flowing with the energy of an attacking force from a centered and balanced state. 

Ning showed me a little clip from Kung Fu Panda 3  yesterday. It’s the part where the Po realizes that in order to win his fight he has to have inner peace. “Oh, all I need is inner peace….”  It seems that’s the whole puzzle really…  Where does inner peace come from. All this searching and looking that we do, but I guess it has to come from inside?

Anyway, the man I've been talking to seems such an unlikely special forces person in his mild mannered and self-deprecating way. He looks like he's been through plenty of hard living and some pretty wild times; he probably hasn't been a complete angel all his life. However, I wanted to write about him in honor of his ability to walk into his battles and take his compassion with him, and in honor of what I imagine to be the gift of calm and understanding that he gives to the people around him when they are in the thick of their stress and danger. Maybe he is not in the wrong place, as he believes, because he has bad Karma to work out. Maybe he is in the right place because he has the capacity to be there with grace.

And maybe there’s no reason at all…   J