Bombs over Flag-Land
It's Diwali.
Ironically, I first heard of this holiday on the boat when I was doing charter trips last month in the Mentawais with Shayno.
There's lots of movie-time on the boats since there's nowhere to go, so we watched several seasons of The Office (American version)... And the Indian character "Kelly" celebrates the Indian holiday called Diwali with a big sparkly party.
This is not AT ALL what Diwali in Dharamshala was like.
Today was the day I got all my stuff together for the next ten days I am embarking on... Booking my tickets to Amritsar (where I will be going after the meditation) to see the Golden Palace for one night and then on to Varanasi by 22 hour train ride to meet the golden Aaron, my dear soul brother.
After having leaving the travel agent, I walked down the little crumbly McLeod Ganj street to the laundry man's store to pick up my hot-pink yak's wool blanket I just had washed.
Handing it over to me, he smiled and bobbing his head side to side wished me "Happy Diwali!"
I must have seemed really excited envisioning sparkling saris and bangles... Scarves attached to glistening nose-ring jewels and twinkling fairy lights lining the street as Bollywood dancers filed out of every door in the city.
"oh, no..." he said "just people have dinner with their families and lots of bombs light off. You probably like to sleep with earplugs tonight."
Ahhh. Okay. Bombs... Cool, cool.
I assumed he meant fireworks and continued down the street checking off my to-do list in my head and realizing I was done.
-alarm clock (not my I-phone which I have to surrender to the ashram's safe)
-toilet paper
-warm blanket
-copy of my passport and India visa
-travel arrangements for the 5th of november when I re-emerge (literally and metaphorically)
I stumbled up the stairs to the Green hotel cafe and saw my friend Pema! I almost forgot it was already lunchtime and we had a standing date to hangout and chat.
I ended up filming a video of him that I plan to post on YouTube.
He is super amazingly rad.
He has overcome such obstacles and written a book in three languages and is a teacher and such a sweet, simple loving man.
He spends all his time reading and writing so his back is screwed up. He also walks with a limp that apparently comes from an illness he had as a child that left him unable to walk.... Yet somehow, with the limp, he walked across the Himalayas and Nepal escaping the violent and oppressive Chinese occupation of his homeland.
He took me to a Tibetan hospital where we bought a special kind of medical incense that he instructed me to soak with water in my Tibetan singing bowl when I give massage or am helping heal people with different things.
Then he taught me a breathing technique done by Tibetan monks.
It is sort of a combination of nadi shohana and veloma 1 in yoga pranayama, but there are some cool hand movements in between that remind me of a Cambodian dancer.
After an early dinner I parted ways with Pema and made my way back to my room to lie down and think about everything we'd just talked about... Being Unique and Unified etc etc.
...and the bombs started.
Every time a huge explosion went off I had the instinct to dive under a table- I guess a result of growing up in LA... Where we have drive-bys and 4th of July and there is usually a clear distinction.
Although... this does not sound anything like a celebration outside my window.
The explosions echo down the valley that lies between these high mountains and the echo is like the soul shaking thunder we heard a few days ago.
Right now... On Diwali.... It sounds more like the gaza strip then the home of his holiness the Dalai Lama!
I can't help but feel like this is just another black/white illustration by the universe... Bombs going off outside, while i'm curled up in this downstairs, dark, cave-like room with the t.v. Playing some awful American comedy show.
....
I kept the t.v on until I fell asleep. (if you know me- you know I detest television) but I didn't want to have nightmares falling asleep to the explosions.
Amazingly, I woke up this morning to my own laugher.
I had phenomenal dreams last night.
I kept finding these colorfully dressed chubby, happy babies giggling that made me laugh... Jessica, Margot and I were on a beach draped across one another, eating and laughing together as the world spun before us...
And then I was underwater swimming with a clean, clear mask on... Exploring the world underwater, somehow able to hold my breath forever and ever effortlessly.
My dreams were all SO vivid and AWESOME.
I am ready
10 days of sinking deeply into meditation, breathing light, studying Buddhism and being silent?
I can do this.
Although I was pretty upset about the "no music" rule... I was going to petition and say that my father and every person I have ever lived with in my life has been a musician and I feel sick without music around me...
I thought I could promise to only listen to quiet, meditation music through my earphones...
But then I realized that it's gonna be okay.
I accept their rule and who knows, maybe I will find that music is so deeply within me, I don't even need it from the outside.
Catch you on the flip side.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Talk to everyone. Start over. Talk to everyone.
Talk to everyone.
Yup.
That's the lesson for today.
I love this lesson.
Hear that kids? When your parents tell you not to talk to strangers tell them they can shove....
Okay. Okay. Nevermind. Nevermind.
Say yes mommy. Yes daddy.
But when you grow up and decide to see the worlds and taste the 160 gagillion flavors of the universe... Make SURE you talk to strangers.
I just finished having dinner with my new friend Pema.
He is 33. He was born in Tibet, took his vows to be a monk at 15, escaped Tibet and came to India at 19 and has been here ever since.
His eyes glitter. He laughs humbly and honestly.
He has written book on what buddhism means to him that has been translated in several languages.
He's giving me an English translation tomorrow when we meet for lunch. He's also taking me to get some special Tibetan incense that I am supposed to soak in water in my new Tibetan singing bowl...
Yes. I bought a singing bowl today after JohnE took off down south to Kerala. (he finally had enough of the cold mountain climate and needed some beach action in a big way.)
Not me... I'm going higher!
The day after tomorrow i check into The Tushita Meditation Center for 10 days- to meditate and learn Buddhism.
Although I have already been exposed to quite a lot and have read a fair share of texts and so forth... I am taking a class called "intro to Buddhism" where I have to be silent- no music. No talking. No Internet. No phones. No leaving the property. But waitwaitwait...No TALKING!? Whewsh. I think that will be my biggest challenge.
I am excited though to start at the beginning. In everything always seem to skip ten steps or at least think i CAN skip ahead... So I really think an intensive introduction to Buddhism is gonna be great for me!
Ironically, I sat on the floor of a shop playing different Tibetan bowls for several HOURS tonight - making a slew of new friends and essentially selling several bowls to stopper bys... (the Kashmiri guy who's store it was loved me and kept getting me chai and telling me to stay)... Finally the bowl that truly picked me was the root chakra vibration/pitch...
It is the sound for beginning.
The red root or base chakra represents grounding/rooting/starting at the very beginning (a very good plaaaace to start.) - if you didn't catch the sound of music reference you're fired.
Anyways- the sound of this bowl, MY bowl's music... I just felt emotional and it called me somehow. It's so beautiful and deep and I think it's going to help heal a lot of people, not just me.
One girl who stopped in the store and I had befriended on that floor talked to me for about an hour-- we both talked about how we hadn't bought hardly anything yet while in India... Not just because I am broke, but because somehow I feel like I need to surrender something I already have just to make room for the new thing (physically and energetically).
Later on, as I was showing Pema the monk my new bowl I noticed that my golden friendship bracelet from Thailand I have with Laura and Cary is gone off my wrist.
It fell off sometime in the last day (which included the Dalai Lama's temple with thousands of people and a huge hike up a waterfall and all over McLeod Ganj)... In otherwords... It's history.
I surrender it eventhough my heart is so so broken that it's gone!
I think that's all part of this first chakra thing- letting go of attachments but becoming grounded- I think about my houses burning down and losing everything I owned twice-- being uprooted and continually in this life having to start over and over...
But I've always looked at it that way until tonight when I realized that seeing loss and having to start over this way - it's assuming that there is an end result- that I must start over on the path towards acquiring things...
Which is not the case.
...an end and a rebirth.
Maybe.
I think everything starts new all the time... Like my new friendships.
I get to make NEW friends I have never met before which is so so killer.
I love it.
But then again... If every person I meet is just a projection of myself... Then it's not so new afterall.
Hmmmm- maybe this ten days of silence will do me well... I have a lot to ponder and figure out.
What better place to search for answers then at the beginning... In the motherland.
Speaking of mothers... And my intro course... And in case you were wondering how I ever became so awesome....
Check out this email I just received from my RADiculously amazing mommy:
-----------
Hi Zan,
Taking an intensive meditation course sounds great! Intro to Buddhism sounds perfect. I love Intro classes in everything. It keeps us humble and simple.
I love, love, love your poems. They are wonderful and reflect your amazing state of mind. Lauren often takes mediation courses and she has an amazingly peaceful center to her that never gets ruffled. I feel it and admire it.
To me, meditation just brings you into the awareness of what IS and stops the chatter and speculation of the mind as to what ' Might be' or " could be". The Now is where it is at and this world is a miracle and we are all made of stardust and that in itself is enough of a miracle to stop us from searching for more. The fact that we have evolved into these amazing conscious creatures is a miracle in itself. Look at your hands, look at the circulatory system of the body, that is the miracle of life! You really don't have to follow any man made religions to know this .Lauren always says Good Buddhism is No Buddhism.
Have a wonderful ten days!!! I am loving you all the time. You are part of my body and my cells and my consciousness.
Love, Mom
-----------
So ya... Word to my mother!
Word to my new friends!
Word to the fact that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet...
Unless he is a drug dealer with a razorblade in his apple--- stay away from him, kids....
Or a terrifyingly creepy sadhu wearing orange, with a painted face, carrying a trident and following you around town wiggling his tongue at you smiling and staring through the window as you try to eat lunch.
Ya. Maybe steer clear of him too.
But other then that. What have the romans... Nevermind.
Strangers rock.
I can't wait to wake up tomorrow and talk to everyone again.
... And then not talk to anyone but my own inner guru for ten days...
...and then charge it down to Varanasi and sing and laugh and share some super special vibes with my soul brother Aaron glass!
I Love love!
I love life!
JAI MA!!!!
Yup.
That's the lesson for today.
I love this lesson.
Hear that kids? When your parents tell you not to talk to strangers tell them they can shove....
Okay. Okay. Nevermind. Nevermind.
Say yes mommy. Yes daddy.
But when you grow up and decide to see the worlds and taste the 160 gagillion flavors of the universe... Make SURE you talk to strangers.
I just finished having dinner with my new friend Pema.
He is 33. He was born in Tibet, took his vows to be a monk at 15, escaped Tibet and came to India at 19 and has been here ever since.
His eyes glitter. He laughs humbly and honestly.
He has written book on what buddhism means to him that has been translated in several languages.
He's giving me an English translation tomorrow when we meet for lunch. He's also taking me to get some special Tibetan incense that I am supposed to soak in water in my new Tibetan singing bowl...
Yes. I bought a singing bowl today after JohnE took off down south to Kerala. (he finally had enough of the cold mountain climate and needed some beach action in a big way.)
Not me... I'm going higher!
The day after tomorrow i check into The Tushita Meditation Center for 10 days- to meditate and learn Buddhism.
Although I have already been exposed to quite a lot and have read a fair share of texts and so forth... I am taking a class called "intro to Buddhism" where I have to be silent- no music. No talking. No Internet. No phones. No leaving the property. But waitwaitwait...No TALKING!? Whewsh. I think that will be my biggest challenge.
I am excited though to start at the beginning. In everything always seem to skip ten steps or at least think i CAN skip ahead... So I really think an intensive introduction to Buddhism is gonna be great for me!
Ironically, I sat on the floor of a shop playing different Tibetan bowls for several HOURS tonight - making a slew of new friends and essentially selling several bowls to stopper bys... (the Kashmiri guy who's store it was loved me and kept getting me chai and telling me to stay)... Finally the bowl that truly picked me was the root chakra vibration/pitch...
It is the sound for beginning.
The red root or base chakra represents grounding/rooting/starting at the very beginning (a very good plaaaace to start.) - if you didn't catch the sound of music reference you're fired.
Anyways- the sound of this bowl, MY bowl's music... I just felt emotional and it called me somehow. It's so beautiful and deep and I think it's going to help heal a lot of people, not just me.
One girl who stopped in the store and I had befriended on that floor talked to me for about an hour-- we both talked about how we hadn't bought hardly anything yet while in India... Not just because I am broke, but because somehow I feel like I need to surrender something I already have just to make room for the new thing (physically and energetically).
Later on, as I was showing Pema the monk my new bowl I noticed that my golden friendship bracelet from Thailand I have with Laura and Cary is gone off my wrist.
It fell off sometime in the last day (which included the Dalai Lama's temple with thousands of people and a huge hike up a waterfall and all over McLeod Ganj)... In otherwords... It's history.
I surrender it eventhough my heart is so so broken that it's gone!
I think that's all part of this first chakra thing- letting go of attachments but becoming grounded- I think about my houses burning down and losing everything I owned twice-- being uprooted and continually in this life having to start over and over...
But I've always looked at it that way until tonight when I realized that seeing loss and having to start over this way - it's assuming that there is an end result- that I must start over on the path towards acquiring things...
Which is not the case.
...an end and a rebirth.
Maybe.
I think everything starts new all the time... Like my new friendships.
I get to make NEW friends I have never met before which is so so killer.
I love it.
But then again... If every person I meet is just a projection of myself... Then it's not so new afterall.
Hmmmm- maybe this ten days of silence will do me well... I have a lot to ponder and figure out.
What better place to search for answers then at the beginning... In the motherland.
Speaking of mothers... And my intro course... And in case you were wondering how I ever became so awesome....
Check out this email I just received from my RADiculously amazing mommy:
-----------
Hi Zan,
Taking an intensive meditation course sounds great! Intro to Buddhism sounds perfect. I love Intro classes in everything. It keeps us humble and simple.
I love, love, love your poems. They are wonderful and reflect your amazing state of mind. Lauren often takes mediation courses and she has an amazingly peaceful center to her that never gets ruffled. I feel it and admire it.
To me, meditation just brings you into the awareness of what IS and stops the chatter and speculation of the mind as to what ' Might be' or " could be". The Now is where it is at and this world is a miracle and we are all made of stardust and that in itself is enough of a miracle to stop us from searching for more. The fact that we have evolved into these amazing conscious creatures is a miracle in itself. Look at your hands, look at the circulatory system of the body, that is the miracle of life! You really don't have to follow any man made religions to know this .Lauren always says Good Buddhism is No Buddhism.
Have a wonderful ten days!!! I am loving you all the time. You are part of my body and my cells and my consciousness.
Love, Mom
-----------
So ya... Word to my mother!
Word to my new friends!
Word to the fact that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet...
Unless he is a drug dealer with a razorblade in his apple--- stay away from him, kids....
Or a terrifyingly creepy sadhu wearing orange, with a painted face, carrying a trident and following you around town wiggling his tongue at you smiling and staring through the window as you try to eat lunch.
Ya. Maybe steer clear of him too.
But other then that. What have the romans... Nevermind.
Strangers rock.
I can't wait to wake up tomorrow and talk to everyone again.
... And then not talk to anyone but my own inner guru for ten days...
...and then charge it down to Varanasi and sing and laugh and share some super special vibes with my soul brother Aaron glass!
I Love love!
I love life!
JAI MA!!!!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
The Dalai Lama and Lightning.
It's afternoon.
A stormy afternoon in an Indian town that's built on the side of a hill like a Northern Californian town- nestled in the pine trees too.
I'm sitting on the same couch I sat in at 7 this morning.
It's the upstairs cafe at the green hotel where I am staying in Dharamshala, India.
This morning I had eggs and coffee. I ate as quickly as I could, paid and ran out the door to head down the hill to the main temple.
JohnE and I still had to register for the program.
Leave stuff to the last minute?? Moi?!
Yea.
So--- we charged it down the hill and got to gate 3, filling out our forms in line and finally getting to the front only to realize we needed passport photos for our registration badges to go in. Ooooookay. No big deal.
We went out into the buzzing streets in front of the temple and were directed past some cows hanging next to chai vendors and up a narrow flight of stairs to a strange Internet cafe - only to be told we couldn't use the color copier until 10:30 for some reason that was never explained to us.
Somehow we never got flustered.
We just rolled with it- decided to float through the obstacles of the morning... Without even so much as a discussion, it was just clear that everything would work out and there was no rush or reason to stress.
"I'll just buy some markers and color in the black and white photo if they don't accept a b&w photo copy" Johnny said.
We laughed and cruised back down to gate 3.
The irritated man giving badges tisked and accepted our shoddy black and white paper photos and sent us to get in line for the metal detector.
Got to the front only to find that we had contraband in our bags- no cameras, phones or I-things allowed.
Oooookay. No big deal.
I walked back out and found a bag check... Dealt with all that, blah blah blah- and finally made it into the temple.
John and I somehow reconnected at the foot of a staircase and made out way upstairs, literally crawling through the sea of people to find our spot- the hot pink yaks wool blanket we set up yesterday with our names taped on to reserve our space to sit.
Big surprise, it was moved.
The blanket now crumpled in a corner.
Ooookay. No big deal...
We found another spot and sat down on the freezing cold floor just in time for the entrance of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Bam.
Directly in front of me, there he was in all his sweet joyousness.
I pulled out my new book and started writing notes...
These are my notes and thoughts from the program- apologies if it's slightly incoherent or weird.
I just felt like I wanted to share all that I took from the program today.
-----------
Oct 23, 2011 - HH the DL @ Dharamshala (hollaaaa)
Breakfast- late... No passport photos... No iPod allowed... Blankets moved... Freezing.. Rain starts... Program starts...
Trying to find the English translation station on the handheld radio with a splitter so j.o. And I can both hear.
All I got is static.
But the humble, welcoming of all the monks and seekers sitting around us.
Man....
We warmed eachother with our smiles...
Finally we found English.
"examine my teachings and then decide if you should follow it." - the Buddha (like Siddhartha)
... So many Siddhartha references since I've been here- and I started to re-read the book on the bus coming here... and then last night I found a poem I wrote almost exactly one year ago called "a se.cret" - http://zaniroberts.blogspot.com/2010/10/secret.html
Sometimes it trips me out how I get into a similar headspace at the same time of year each turning year.
Anyway, HH says- if the lessons don't stand up to reasoning- then don't take it literally... Use it as a metaphorical teaching.
"to be an authentic scholor- you must hold reasoning to test all teachings"
...
*keep faith in your religion but respect all other religions.
What is the best religion?
'It's all relative!' he says
Like medicine...
Some medicine is more effective for different people- as long as it cures disease for a patient- then it's the best relatively.
...
The Buddha did not force his teachings upon his disciples.
...
In Indonesia when I am asked my religion (a popular conversational question) I always say "semua agama" - ALL religion!
I think about Elvis Presley who is said to have worn a rosary, prayer beads and other various religious pieces around his neck, under his clothes.
When asked why he said he didn't want to be left out of the afterlife on a count of a technicality.
Love it.
I like em all.
...
Rain pounded down on the part-outdoor temple- the radio just going to static again and again.
Monks circulated around with big kettles of chai... Pouring the sweet tea into the student's cups we passed back and forth peacefully.
We all shared blankets- handing bread and chai between the ocean of cross-legged and chilly attendees.
I could look straight at the Dalai Lama from where I sat but all I could hear through the radio was static- I think the Chinese station was too close to the English one.
...
Reception comes back.
"people have become too attached to their own religion so they can't see other religions for what they are... We all say do not harm others. Even Muslims say "love all creatures of Allah."..."
(ironically, the book I am writing starts with the character listening to the Dalai Lama speak in Hollywood and discuses this very thing)
"Love
Contentment
Compassion
Non-harming
... Follow these virtues and there should be no war in the name of religion."
People make their own story and fighting because of attachment to their story, bullying others for their religion.
Where is the
Love
Contentment
& truthfulness?
...
Robbie Patrick questioned my theories in New York a few years ago... My personal truth I adhered to. It blew my mind open.
How beautful to be challenged.
Releasing attachment and re-discover the elements of love, contentment, honesty.... Letting go of the story- the attachment to a scripture....
HH said "people who say they are non-believers can almost be the most honest and virtuous."
Because if you hold the virtues of a religion but don't fully apply... Once you subscribe to a religion you must be 100% otherwise corruption and greed can taint us.
All religion teaches not to be greedy.
We must practice religious harmony!
...
Both times I heard HH the DL speak live, I've been dead center right in front of him with an unobstructed view.
Part of me wants to be a monk.
Is that weird?
I can't explain it.
I have this draw to spend my life studying comparative theology and religion - being an "authentic scholor." and learning all there is to learn- using the test of reason...
Discovering what needs to be discovered and learning PATIENCE!!!
I am trying not to squirm-
To accept discomfort in it's divine moment of challenge.
Can I breathe through the burn in warrior 2?
Can I let go of the fixation on my legs falling asleep in meditation?
Can I accept that not everyone walks at my pace or thinks like I do?
Just as HH tells us to accept and honor each religion...
Because each of us is a unique vessel with a story- just like a little religion to ourselves.
There is a guru within each of us.
Especially here, as I sit and see the divine guru within the eyes of these Tibetan Buddhists- a tender knowing- a sweet acceptance- a reverence for all who seek.
No one is above anyone else... (though the smart ones brought cushions to sit on)
I wrote this poem last night before bed:
We seek the eternal
But can't wait for this moment to be over...
A strand
That we pull- that tugs on something deep and down below.
We forget.
...the journey is the gift * the prize is the path...
But would I have to give up my gold anklet with the jingly bell if I were to become a monk?
I asked. He laughed.
That strand
Pulled on something like an undigested piece of meat.
Let go! I cry out... Let go!!
To you. To him. To me.
I'm scared.
But it's so easy
We tell the many me's that hover and quiver in fear...
Just swap the 'C' and the 'A'
You see, ay?
It's almost SACRED to be SCARED... And that's okay.
But we must trust. It's trust or bust
For us who windy wanderlust...
I listen to the wind. To the wind of my soul...
My soul has wind. My spirit weather.
When it's dark and stormy my eyes still have starlight.
And
Why do we close our eyes when we kiss and sing and dream?
I heard someone ask that and I let mr. Jung answer from the grave - His words eternal.
His words eternal.
Will my words be eternal?
For that's what we seek, right?
The fountain
Of eternity.
So maybe writing now is my future legacy
I'll leave behind.
And for now
I'll slip into something more comfortable and be present in the
discomfort.
...
Morality.
"We must take it very seriously! Some petitioners say yes, we must base on religion, but any religion, no matter how good, cannot be universal."
(we are all unique!)
...
Karma & Rebirth - your practice brings you towards Nirvana
(I thought of Birdie playing me Nirvana on the island- I did get taken to Nirvana! Ha.)
A happier life is attained by living ethically and morally.
"moral ethics (away from any religion) is the important thing here. A doctor tells a patient to rest.... But even if the patient goes to lie down and his mind races- he thinks and stresses and has nightmares... This is not rest. We must do away with mental unrest."
"We need mental rest and ease by being
OPEN
HONEST
& KIND
With others..."
And we must still the mind to find true peace.
When we are peaceful in the mind we can find physical health.
Hate & frustration eat into our bodies and decay us away.
...
Money cannot buy happiness.
Only peace of mind...
The key to happiness
The key to health.
"Secular ethics- we must remove hate, frustration and discomfort from our vocabulary and from our culture."
...
I think it's like I teach in yoga about dis-ease and how it makes you sick.
I think back to a few months ago when I fell really sick. I had just been on the boat with Jessica where we were really wallowing in our discomfort instead of just accepting it and finding gratitude that we were together in paradise.
Sometimes Jessica and I are able to laugh of discomfort, but other times we just get into it and can literally make ourselves sick.
We are both gumby and can take everything too far and I think possibly I made myself sick because I was not allowing myself a state of mental rest and ease...
Maybe I was not being open, honest and kind to myself... Causing mental unrest and dis-ease within my body.
...
"4 bodies of the Buddha come from the nature truth body state of total purification. Engaging in path- you reach Buddhahood- state of total purity."
We must overcome the Afflictions of the mind to reach purity.
That Buddha-essence is what we strive for.
(I think to my three pillars of light- tia, Aaron & tawney)
They are of the Buddha-essence to me.
...
3 trainings for the Buddha are
•morality
•concentration
•wisdom
Undergoing so much hardship can ultimately be a path to wisdom - overcoming pain...
(though it's not the physical torment... But being able to concentrate and overcome)
"primary factor to lead us out of suffering is selflessness"
Remove the ego- the magnified vision of self in the moment and let go...
Then we have ease...
Peace of mind..
Then we can rest & digest
Restore & become whole once again.
...
Origin of Suffering
(p.s. What is the DEAL with all the suffering talk in Buddhism? Sheeeesh.)
Someone asked "because we can trace the cause of suffering, can there be a cure? Can we end it?"
HH replied "all suffering is rooted in ignorance."
Like, we want happiness but are not able to achieve it. We suffer (painful experiences and pleasurable ones that turn painful) and we have to trace it back- consciousness.
It's not external to us.
It's rooted in our consciousness.
Cessation of suffering = cessation of the Self.
Put an end to ignorance...
No karma is created.
Then suffering and misery cease to exist.
"Through knowledge we can overcome ignorance... Through power of concentration..."
Single-pointed focus (like a drishti... )
Use meditation and breathwork!
We must develop further & further with mindfulness & concentration to see clearly.
Cessation of suffering = Liberation
Moksha!!
(this made me remember the Upanishad "moksha beksho bandhaha" which means
'even the desire for liberation is bondage'
Boosh.... Right?)
Cuz when we are still locked in the spinning mind versus PEACE of mind... Concentration and single-pointed focus...
"reaching higher planes of existence through the examination and training of the mind- this is present in almost all religions."
Buddha said
'I will show you the path to liberation, but ultimately it is up to you."
Again- I remember a poem I wrote last year ( http://zaniroberts.blogspot.com/2010/10/summation-of-om.html )
That says
"i may guide you to the center of your soul...
but do not follow me out your door.
For i too stumble in the dark and walk towards a beacon i cant make out in the distance."
------
The program broke for lunch and there was a giant stampede- I felt stepped on... Pushed... This insane violent, aggressive energy took over the previously peaceful hall.
I couldn't believe it.
How human we are.
How quickly these seekers forgot.
I shook my head at the shifted now animalistic energy and left.
I walked back up the misty hill feeling like I had enough to marinate on for the day.
I will return tomorrow for the second day of teachings...
(and I will pack a warm sweater, a lunch, and a cushion to sit on - no iPod or phone - and remember my I.D. Tag)
Whewsh. What a morning.
Thunder rolled through the canyon and lightning struck the hotel as we were entering it knocking the power out.
JohnE, I remembered, has been struck by lightning twice.
(it is said that people who get hit once forever carry the charge that attracts it again... So often those struck once will be struck again and again.)
What a weird, wonderful world this is.
Lessons come in the coolest ways.
Sometimes we have to hear the same thing a million times in a row for it to sink in and make a lick of sense.
A stormy afternoon in an Indian town that's built on the side of a hill like a Northern Californian town- nestled in the pine trees too.
I'm sitting on the same couch I sat in at 7 this morning.
It's the upstairs cafe at the green hotel where I am staying in Dharamshala, India.
This morning I had eggs and coffee. I ate as quickly as I could, paid and ran out the door to head down the hill to the main temple.
JohnE and I still had to register for the program.
Leave stuff to the last minute?? Moi?!
Yea.
So--- we charged it down the hill and got to gate 3, filling out our forms in line and finally getting to the front only to realize we needed passport photos for our registration badges to go in. Ooooookay. No big deal.
We went out into the buzzing streets in front of the temple and were directed past some cows hanging next to chai vendors and up a narrow flight of stairs to a strange Internet cafe - only to be told we couldn't use the color copier until 10:30 for some reason that was never explained to us.
Somehow we never got flustered.
We just rolled with it- decided to float through the obstacles of the morning... Without even so much as a discussion, it was just clear that everything would work out and there was no rush or reason to stress.
"I'll just buy some markers and color in the black and white photo if they don't accept a b&w photo copy" Johnny said.
We laughed and cruised back down to gate 3.
The irritated man giving badges tisked and accepted our shoddy black and white paper photos and sent us to get in line for the metal detector.
Got to the front only to find that we had contraband in our bags- no cameras, phones or I-things allowed.
Oooookay. No big deal.
I walked back out and found a bag check... Dealt with all that, blah blah blah- and finally made it into the temple.
John and I somehow reconnected at the foot of a staircase and made out way upstairs, literally crawling through the sea of people to find our spot- the hot pink yaks wool blanket we set up yesterday with our names taped on to reserve our space to sit.
Big surprise, it was moved.
The blanket now crumpled in a corner.
Ooookay. No big deal...
We found another spot and sat down on the freezing cold floor just in time for the entrance of His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Bam.
Directly in front of me, there he was in all his sweet joyousness.
I pulled out my new book and started writing notes...
These are my notes and thoughts from the program- apologies if it's slightly incoherent or weird.
I just felt like I wanted to share all that I took from the program today.
-----------
Oct 23, 2011 - HH the DL @ Dharamshala (hollaaaa)
Breakfast- late... No passport photos... No iPod allowed... Blankets moved... Freezing.. Rain starts... Program starts...
Trying to find the English translation station on the handheld radio with a splitter so j.o. And I can both hear.
All I got is static.
But the humble, welcoming of all the monks and seekers sitting around us.
Man....
We warmed eachother with our smiles...
Finally we found English.
"examine my teachings and then decide if you should follow it." - the Buddha (like Siddhartha)
... So many Siddhartha references since I've been here- and I started to re-read the book on the bus coming here... and then last night I found a poem I wrote almost exactly one year ago called "a se.cret" - http://zaniroberts.blogspot.com/2010/10/secret.html
Sometimes it trips me out how I get into a similar headspace at the same time of year each turning year.
Anyway, HH says- if the lessons don't stand up to reasoning- then don't take it literally... Use it as a metaphorical teaching.
"to be an authentic scholor- you must hold reasoning to test all teachings"
...
*keep faith in your religion but respect all other religions.
What is the best religion?
'It's all relative!' he says
Like medicine...
Some medicine is more effective for different people- as long as it cures disease for a patient- then it's the best relatively.
...
The Buddha did not force his teachings upon his disciples.
...
In Indonesia when I am asked my religion (a popular conversational question) I always say "semua agama" - ALL religion!
I think about Elvis Presley who is said to have worn a rosary, prayer beads and other various religious pieces around his neck, under his clothes.
When asked why he said he didn't want to be left out of the afterlife on a count of a technicality.
Love it.
I like em all.
...
Rain pounded down on the part-outdoor temple- the radio just going to static again and again.
Monks circulated around with big kettles of chai... Pouring the sweet tea into the student's cups we passed back and forth peacefully.
We all shared blankets- handing bread and chai between the ocean of cross-legged and chilly attendees.
I could look straight at the Dalai Lama from where I sat but all I could hear through the radio was static- I think the Chinese station was too close to the English one.
...
Reception comes back.
"people have become too attached to their own religion so they can't see other religions for what they are... We all say do not harm others. Even Muslims say "love all creatures of Allah."..."
(ironically, the book I am writing starts with the character listening to the Dalai Lama speak in Hollywood and discuses this very thing)
"Love
Contentment
Compassion
Non-harming
... Follow these virtues and there should be no war in the name of religion."
People make their own story and fighting because of attachment to their story, bullying others for their religion.
Where is the
Love
Contentment
& truthfulness?
...
Robbie Patrick questioned my theories in New York a few years ago... My personal truth I adhered to. It blew my mind open.
How beautful to be challenged.
Releasing attachment and re-discover the elements of love, contentment, honesty.... Letting go of the story- the attachment to a scripture....
HH said "people who say they are non-believers can almost be the most honest and virtuous."
Because if you hold the virtues of a religion but don't fully apply... Once you subscribe to a religion you must be 100% otherwise corruption and greed can taint us.
All religion teaches not to be greedy.
We must practice religious harmony!
...
Both times I heard HH the DL speak live, I've been dead center right in front of him with an unobstructed view.
Part of me wants to be a monk.
Is that weird?
I can't explain it.
I have this draw to spend my life studying comparative theology and religion - being an "authentic scholor." and learning all there is to learn- using the test of reason...
Discovering what needs to be discovered and learning PATIENCE!!!
I am trying not to squirm-
To accept discomfort in it's divine moment of challenge.
Can I breathe through the burn in warrior 2?
Can I let go of the fixation on my legs falling asleep in meditation?
Can I accept that not everyone walks at my pace or thinks like I do?
Just as HH tells us to accept and honor each religion...
Because each of us is a unique vessel with a story- just like a little religion to ourselves.
There is a guru within each of us.
Especially here, as I sit and see the divine guru within the eyes of these Tibetan Buddhists- a tender knowing- a sweet acceptance- a reverence for all who seek.
No one is above anyone else... (though the smart ones brought cushions to sit on)
I wrote this poem last night before bed:
We seek the eternal
But can't wait for this moment to be over...
A strand
That we pull- that tugs on something deep and down below.
We forget.
...the journey is the gift * the prize is the path...
But would I have to give up my gold anklet with the jingly bell if I were to become a monk?
I asked. He laughed.
That strand
Pulled on something like an undigested piece of meat.
Let go! I cry out... Let go!!
To you. To him. To me.
I'm scared.
But it's so easy
We tell the many me's that hover and quiver in fear...
Just swap the 'C' and the 'A'
You see, ay?
It's almost SACRED to be SCARED... And that's okay.
But we must trust. It's trust or bust
For us who windy wanderlust...
I listen to the wind. To the wind of my soul...
My soul has wind. My spirit weather.
When it's dark and stormy my eyes still have starlight.
And
Why do we close our eyes when we kiss and sing and dream?
I heard someone ask that and I let mr. Jung answer from the grave - His words eternal.
His words eternal.
Will my words be eternal?
For that's what we seek, right?
The fountain
Of eternity.
So maybe writing now is my future legacy
I'll leave behind.
And for now
I'll slip into something more comfortable and be present in the
discomfort.
...
Morality.
"We must take it very seriously! Some petitioners say yes, we must base on religion, but any religion, no matter how good, cannot be universal."
(we are all unique!)
...
Karma & Rebirth - your practice brings you towards Nirvana
(I thought of Birdie playing me Nirvana on the island- I did get taken to Nirvana! Ha.)
A happier life is attained by living ethically and morally.
"moral ethics (away from any religion) is the important thing here. A doctor tells a patient to rest.... But even if the patient goes to lie down and his mind races- he thinks and stresses and has nightmares... This is not rest. We must do away with mental unrest."
"We need mental rest and ease by being
OPEN
HONEST
& KIND
With others..."
And we must still the mind to find true peace.
When we are peaceful in the mind we can find physical health.
Hate & frustration eat into our bodies and decay us away.
...
Money cannot buy happiness.
Only peace of mind...
The key to happiness
The key to health.
"Secular ethics- we must remove hate, frustration and discomfort from our vocabulary and from our culture."
...
I think it's like I teach in yoga about dis-ease and how it makes you sick.
I think back to a few months ago when I fell really sick. I had just been on the boat with Jessica where we were really wallowing in our discomfort instead of just accepting it and finding gratitude that we were together in paradise.
Sometimes Jessica and I are able to laugh of discomfort, but other times we just get into it and can literally make ourselves sick.
We are both gumby and can take everything too far and I think possibly I made myself sick because I was not allowing myself a state of mental rest and ease...
Maybe I was not being open, honest and kind to myself... Causing mental unrest and dis-ease within my body.
...
"4 bodies of the Buddha come from the nature truth body state of total purification. Engaging in path- you reach Buddhahood- state of total purity."
We must overcome the Afflictions of the mind to reach purity.
That Buddha-essence is what we strive for.
(I think to my three pillars of light- tia, Aaron & tawney)
They are of the Buddha-essence to me.
...
3 trainings for the Buddha are
•morality
•concentration
•wisdom
Undergoing so much hardship can ultimately be a path to wisdom - overcoming pain...
(though it's not the physical torment... But being able to concentrate and overcome)
"primary factor to lead us out of suffering is selflessness"
Remove the ego- the magnified vision of self in the moment and let go...
Then we have ease...
Peace of mind..
Then we can rest & digest
Restore & become whole once again.
...
Origin of Suffering
(p.s. What is the DEAL with all the suffering talk in Buddhism? Sheeeesh.)
Someone asked "because we can trace the cause of suffering, can there be a cure? Can we end it?"
HH replied "all suffering is rooted in ignorance."
Like, we want happiness but are not able to achieve it. We suffer (painful experiences and pleasurable ones that turn painful) and we have to trace it back- consciousness.
It's not external to us.
It's rooted in our consciousness.
Cessation of suffering = cessation of the Self.
Put an end to ignorance...
No karma is created.
Then suffering and misery cease to exist.
"Through knowledge we can overcome ignorance... Through power of concentration..."
Single-pointed focus (like a drishti... )
Use meditation and breathwork!
We must develop further & further with mindfulness & concentration to see clearly.
Cessation of suffering = Liberation
Moksha!!
(this made me remember the Upanishad "moksha beksho bandhaha" which means
'even the desire for liberation is bondage'
Boosh.... Right?)
Cuz when we are still locked in the spinning mind versus PEACE of mind... Concentration and single-pointed focus...
"reaching higher planes of existence through the examination and training of the mind- this is present in almost all religions."
Buddha said
'I will show you the path to liberation, but ultimately it is up to you."
Again- I remember a poem I wrote last year ( http://zaniroberts.blogspot.com/2010/10/summation-of-om.html )
That says
"i may guide you to the center of your soul...
but do not follow me out your door.
For i too stumble in the dark and walk towards a beacon i cant make out in the distance."
------
The program broke for lunch and there was a giant stampede- I felt stepped on... Pushed... This insane violent, aggressive energy took over the previously peaceful hall.
I couldn't believe it.
How human we are.
How quickly these seekers forgot.
I shook my head at the shifted now animalistic energy and left.
I walked back up the misty hill feeling like I had enough to marinate on for the day.
I will return tomorrow for the second day of teachings...
(and I will pack a warm sweater, a lunch, and a cushion to sit on - no iPod or phone - and remember my I.D. Tag)
Whewsh. What a morning.
Thunder rolled through the canyon and lightning struck the hotel as we were entering it knocking the power out.
JohnE, I remembered, has been struck by lightning twice.
(it is said that people who get hit once forever carry the charge that attracts it again... So often those struck once will be struck again and again.)
What a weird, wonderful world this is.
Lessons come in the coolest ways.
Sometimes we have to hear the same thing a million times in a row for it to sink in and make a lick of sense.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Wanderlust... Must trust or bust.
"What is your aspiration?" the little Ladahki girl at the old town cafe asked me.
Leh Palace, Ladakh, India.
Climbing up through the mudbrick alleyways to the Palace, the altitude makes your lungs feel extra amazing and kind of stings the windpipe in an invigorating way.
"old town cafe" sits under the Palace that is carved right into the craggy mountainside.
We stepped inside... Down the toilet-smelling stairs and found the most adorable little girl running the underground cave-like cafe.
She whispered her words in broken English and bobbed her head side to side as she spoke- (the Indian nod.)
We sat on floor cushions and ordered ginger lemon honey teas from her modest little one page menu sheet.
She smiled and scurried off ducking behind a curtain to prepare them for us.
As she returned proudly with the teas and a heart melting smile, we invited her to sit and talk with us since we were the only ones there.
She whispered stories about her family near Lake Pangong (what we now know to be no-man's-land an seemingly uninhabitable) as the sun poured over her shoulders through the makeshift skylight in the stone above us.
She was a true Himalayan.
J
ohn inspected the roof of sticks and dung patties.
We continued to be shocked by the lack of fireplaces!
"just throw some of that dung on a fire, man!" J.O kept exclaiming warming his mittened hands together.
Our little friend walked us through the Palace giving us a tour with her soft voice and sideways bobbing head... Practicing her English and asking us questions as we maneuvered up and down ladders and through dusty hallways of mudbricks and straw.
On the roof of the Palace, overlooking all of Ladakh in it's Majesty, she turned to me, looking deeply into my eyes and asked gently,
"what is your ambition?"
Whewsh.
I was a little dumbfounded by the question.
"My ambition?"
She nodded side to side
"uh...."
she smile
"well...To write and be published, I guess."
I replied stuttering.
What IS ambition?
It holds this really serious, business-like, promotion, bonus, potential, pencil skirt and French-Twisted hair connotation to me....
But then I google that word and the first hit says "the desire for personal achievement."
So what does that have to do with money or someone else at all?
After leaving the Palace and wishing our little friend adieu, we wandered around Leh some more...
And then did the same the next day.
And the next.
Each day, finding a new avenue or alleyway that seemed to symbolize my finding a new viewpoint or state of mind somehow.
"all I want to do is wander & write!" I said one afternoon.
"dooo it" johnE replied in his typical mellow, but all-knowing yoda-like fashion.
Thats my ambition. That's what I desire.
I remember sitting on the front porch of the Om hOMe in Venice before I left with my brotherman Joe Con (the word made fresh)... And we made up a rhyme about me visiting every nation and giving global resuscitation with my positive vibration ...
And then I want to write about it.
That night I lay in bed looking through the lonely planet book and reading about their authors.
I saw the story of the couple that started it and how they ended up with this empire they now have... Leading and guiding hungry gypsies around the globe.
That's my ambition.
I started this note on my I-thing when I first got to India called
"so ya wanna go to India, huh?"
Every misstep or mistake I make on the way, I recount so my friends and future gypsy nomads can benefit from my mistakes...
I think that's lonely planet's idea too.
Maybe I should just work for them...
Zani Roberts, gypsy mermaid, wandering writer.
I like it.
My bio is already done.
It just really takes so much trust to walk blindly into the dark- marching into new experiences and countries.
Not so much bravery I don't think...
No- its just TRUST.
I have no clue how anything will pan out- but something in me is called to write and wander and I trust it will support me somehow.
I have 'wanderlust' in a big way.
The first line in my "so you wanna go to India, huh?" is
Must trust!
Trust or bust.
Either go 100% and ride the wave- surrender to the smells, sounds, chaos, fear, discomfort and danger... Or miss the cosmic reward on the flip side of the coin... Which I assure you is worth it all and more.
I traveled for 12 straight hours to get from Leh to Dharamashala yesterday. An insane plane/airport experience followed by two back-to-back 4 hour bus rides (one of which had an Indian man groping me the entire time basically sitting on my lap it was so packed with humans)
But I just surrendered.
There was nowhere to go but right where I was.
I re-read Siddhartha as the overflowing bus teetered and skidded around the bends from pathankot up into Dalai Lama land...
He said repeatedly that he had 3 talents- that he could fast, think, and wait.
Me too... Well... I'm working on the fasting and waiting. But I can wander, write and think...
I gazed out the window as we drove along the banks of what i decided should be called enlightenment river- huge white stones that looked soft like the gaze of a yogi lined the river we raced around- crossing over and over it... Back and forth and back and forth- up and up and up... Again.
We arrived as the sun was departing for the day... So we hiked up mountain in the dark to find a special cafe behind a waterfall where I strummed a guitar and ate vegetable soup.
On our walk back Johnny and I somehow began talking about money.
I told him how my dad often says "money is how people with no talent keep score."
Johnny pondered for a while and then said "if I had a million dollars, I'd just send all the guests home and live on the island alone. I wouldn't change one thing about my life."
I thought that was so beautiful.
John and Ainz have found their heaven. I'm so grateful they share it with me while I explore and learn and grow and wander and write.
I look at all the monks and peace-seekers around me in this place and feel connected and proud and grateful.
Pilgrims from all over the world are here to hear His Holiness the Dalai Lama speak for 3 days starting tomorrow.
We put down a pink yak wool blanket to reserve our spot in the Main temple this afternoon.
Walking around McLeod Ganj today post meditation at the Tushita meditation center- I felt like I could spend some time here.
I want to study Buddhism, reiki, Ayurveda, Hindi, Tibetan music.
I could just stay here for a year and take classes and learn and absorb and drink in all the wisdom and knowledge here.
But even just walking... Wandering and writing, I am learning and growing and so so grateful for every moment of this adventure.
"Siddhartha learned something new on every step of his path, for the world was transformed and he was enthralled."
Leh Palace, Ladakh, India.
Climbing up through the mudbrick alleyways to the Palace, the altitude makes your lungs feel extra amazing and kind of stings the windpipe in an invigorating way.
"old town cafe" sits under the Palace that is carved right into the craggy mountainside.
We stepped inside... Down the toilet-smelling stairs and found the most adorable little girl running the underground cave-like cafe.
She whispered her words in broken English and bobbed her head side to side as she spoke- (the Indian nod.)
We sat on floor cushions and ordered ginger lemon honey teas from her modest little one page menu sheet.
She smiled and scurried off ducking behind a curtain to prepare them for us.
As she returned proudly with the teas and a heart melting smile, we invited her to sit and talk with us since we were the only ones there.
She whispered stories about her family near Lake Pangong (what we now know to be no-man's-land an seemingly uninhabitable) as the sun poured over her shoulders through the makeshift skylight in the stone above us.
She was a true Himalayan.
J
ohn inspected the roof of sticks and dung patties.
We continued to be shocked by the lack of fireplaces!
"just throw some of that dung on a fire, man!" J.O kept exclaiming warming his mittened hands together.
Our little friend walked us through the Palace giving us a tour with her soft voice and sideways bobbing head... Practicing her English and asking us questions as we maneuvered up and down ladders and through dusty hallways of mudbricks and straw.
On the roof of the Palace, overlooking all of Ladakh in it's Majesty, she turned to me, looking deeply into my eyes and asked gently,
"what is your ambition?"
Whewsh.
I was a little dumbfounded by the question.
"My ambition?"
She nodded side to side
"uh...."
she smile
"well...To write and be published, I guess."
I replied stuttering.
What IS ambition?
It holds this really serious, business-like, promotion, bonus, potential, pencil skirt and French-Twisted hair connotation to me....
But then I google that word and the first hit says "the desire for personal achievement."
So what does that have to do with money or someone else at all?
After leaving the Palace and wishing our little friend adieu, we wandered around Leh some more...
And then did the same the next day.
And the next.
Each day, finding a new avenue or alleyway that seemed to symbolize my finding a new viewpoint or state of mind somehow.
"all I want to do is wander & write!" I said one afternoon.
"dooo it" johnE replied in his typical mellow, but all-knowing yoda-like fashion.
Thats my ambition. That's what I desire.
I remember sitting on the front porch of the Om hOMe in Venice before I left with my brotherman Joe Con (the word made fresh)... And we made up a rhyme about me visiting every nation and giving global resuscitation with my positive vibration ...
And then I want to write about it.
That night I lay in bed looking through the lonely planet book and reading about their authors.
I saw the story of the couple that started it and how they ended up with this empire they now have... Leading and guiding hungry gypsies around the globe.
That's my ambition.
I started this note on my I-thing when I first got to India called
"so ya wanna go to India, huh?"
Every misstep or mistake I make on the way, I recount so my friends and future gypsy nomads can benefit from my mistakes...
I think that's lonely planet's idea too.
Maybe I should just work for them...
Zani Roberts, gypsy mermaid, wandering writer.
I like it.
My bio is already done.
It just really takes so much trust to walk blindly into the dark- marching into new experiences and countries.
Not so much bravery I don't think...
No- its just TRUST.
I have no clue how anything will pan out- but something in me is called to write and wander and I trust it will support me somehow.
I have 'wanderlust' in a big way.
The first line in my "so you wanna go to India, huh?" is
Must trust!
Trust or bust.
Either go 100% and ride the wave- surrender to the smells, sounds, chaos, fear, discomfort and danger... Or miss the cosmic reward on the flip side of the coin... Which I assure you is worth it all and more.
I traveled for 12 straight hours to get from Leh to Dharamashala yesterday. An insane plane/airport experience followed by two back-to-back 4 hour bus rides (one of which had an Indian man groping me the entire time basically sitting on my lap it was so packed with humans)
But I just surrendered.
There was nowhere to go but right where I was.
I re-read Siddhartha as the overflowing bus teetered and skidded around the bends from pathankot up into Dalai Lama land...
He said repeatedly that he had 3 talents- that he could fast, think, and wait.
Me too... Well... I'm working on the fasting and waiting. But I can wander, write and think...
I gazed out the window as we drove along the banks of what i decided should be called enlightenment river- huge white stones that looked soft like the gaze of a yogi lined the river we raced around- crossing over and over it... Back and forth and back and forth- up and up and up... Again.
We arrived as the sun was departing for the day... So we hiked up mountain in the dark to find a special cafe behind a waterfall where I strummed a guitar and ate vegetable soup.
On our walk back Johnny and I somehow began talking about money.
I told him how my dad often says "money is how people with no talent keep score."
Johnny pondered for a while and then said "if I had a million dollars, I'd just send all the guests home and live on the island alone. I wouldn't change one thing about my life."
I thought that was so beautiful.
John and Ainz have found their heaven. I'm so grateful they share it with me while I explore and learn and grow and wander and write.
I look at all the monks and peace-seekers around me in this place and feel connected and proud and grateful.
Pilgrims from all over the world are here to hear His Holiness the Dalai Lama speak for 3 days starting tomorrow.
We put down a pink yak wool blanket to reserve our spot in the Main temple this afternoon.
Walking around McLeod Ganj today post meditation at the Tushita meditation center- I felt like I could spend some time here.
I want to study Buddhism, reiki, Ayurveda, Hindi, Tibetan music.
I could just stay here for a year and take classes and learn and absorb and drink in all the wisdom and knowledge here.
But even just walking... Wandering and writing, I am learning and growing and so so grateful for every moment of this adventure.
"Siddhartha learned something new on every step of his path, for the world was transformed and he was enthralled."
Friday, October 21, 2011
"you are not being chased"
Did a sunset ever show you heaven's light?
I started a poem with that line one time.
I remember it vividly.
It was 2 years ago. My friend Devin had just died and I had gone up north to my parents house which was then in San Francisco for some green couch therapy. (you sink into their butter soft green couches and somehow everything is better).
Anyways, I was on my way back to LA, driving alone with the top down on my convertible (as always)... And came to the foot of the grapevine on I-5 just as the sun was setting- I pulled over at a rest stop and wrote a poem that started with that line
"did a sunset ever show you heaven's light?"
This evening, 2 years later, our Ladahki driver winds back down the Himalayan road that took us on an all day journey to Pangong Lake- a 160km long lake that sits 25% in India and 75% in Tibet.
We only spent an hour tops at the lake, sipped some tea and then retraced our treacherous path- but as we reached Karu for the second time in the day, the sunset showed me heaven's light...
But I mean, seriously.
The sun dropped behind the craggy Himalayan skyline and illuminated the entire sky- creating a vibrant visible halo around the lower lying clouds- but the light of this sunset was only one color
And I don't quite know how to explain it.
The closest I came come to describing the color of the light is "white" but it was truly divine iridescent, opalescent, blindingly divine white light that cascaded out of this sunset from behind the white mountaintops.
This is the crown chakra of India- maybe of the world.
The white stupas (little monuments built as punishment, or a memorial or for fortune) look like crowns upon the earth here.
... The clear god-consciousness in the eyes of each person, this sunset showing heaven's light, and the poplar-like trees that reach straight up towards the sky all but solidify this idea to me.
This is the crown chakra.
But... Let me back up to how I came to this sunset out in no man's land...
Leh, Ladakh a few days ago...
JohnE and I finished our brunch at the Gesmo Cafe- cups of coffee, masala omlettes, and a peanut cookie from the German bakery.
A table nearby had 4 or 5 western backpackers all coordinating who would go get what before they started their trek.
They were real Trekkers, we could tell. Their huge backpacks seemed to have everything including huge rolls of foam (probably to sleep on in this sub zero climate). They has the air of the group that had come together organically... It sounded like they were mostly Europeans as they sat munching on cookies and plotting their route into the mountains.
Across from them was a table of 3 army men... They looked middle eastern and kind of mean. They were very rush rush about getting their coffees.
John and I sat next to the window in the sun... There were about a million flies around that table also seeking the warmth of the yellow light pouring in, but we didnt mind. We were happy to share it...
Through the window we could see the signs of the travel shop behind us. There were advertisements to book treks, white water raft, or ride camels, trekking in the Nubra valley.
WHOA!!! Ride a camel?
We realized looking at the photo that camels seem like the perfect animal to ride! You have a backrest and another hump to hold on to.
It looked exactly like what we wanted to do!
We paid our bill and walked next door to make arrangements for an adventure.
After realizing that it was in fact winter (if we couldn't tell from the snow and frost bit fingertips)... So a lot of the adventures were no longer available.
In fact, we found that about 80% of Ladakh was already closed down. (no wonder we loved it so much.) tourism was done for the season and most of the locals were preparing to head south to Goa for the winter while everything shuts it's doors. Even the mahabodhi center where we wanted to do a Vipasana was closed for the season.
Excited to go on some kind of adventure, we settled on a jeep safari through the Himalayas to Tso Pangong- a lake that looked pretty.
We had to leave our passports to get permission- since it's om the border and under Chinese authority.
At 7am sharp the next morning we met in front of the travel agency, introducing ourselves to the 3 Czech and 1 Russian girls we would be sharing the trip with.
After an hour we stopped for coffee (at my persistent request) at the entrance to a place called Karu.
We parked next to a sign that said "Karu- cradle of the brave" and sat in a filthy dirty cafe...
I sipped black coffee and johnE lived on the wild side and had a breakfast bread thing.
Everyone besides us were military for as far as the eye could see.
We continued on in the warm car with beautiful Ladakhi music playing "OM mani padme hum" as we wove through the canyon towards the lake.
Entering a more desolate, scary looking region a sign read,
'only the best of friends or the worst of foes would like to visit us. Juley.'
Juley is Ladakhi for Hello and Goodbye.
"check out that barbed wire" John said pointing to a rock wall with prickly thistle stuck on top...
We started our ascent Up and up the sides of these huge mountains.... Only army trucks came down passing us impossibly on the hairpin turns.
Red bush scattered the desert floor among the pink and purple hued rocks. The mountains varied so much, from dripping chocolate desert mountains to icy snow covered shards of granite colored stone on the other.
My knuckles were white as they gripped the seat in front of me while our car zipped along these avalanche and landslide prone roads with no barriers.
Occasional witty words of warning were painted next to the roads advising cars to slow down and not speed.
Like, "be slow on my curves"
And "time is money, but life is precious"
Army checkpoint after army checkpoint... We would stop and hand over our passports.
Hairpin turns cut impossibly through jagged rock mountains that seem to jut out beside us like crystals... I have NO idea how these roads were actually made.
We climbed higher and higher into the snow on icy, unpaved roads until we reached Changla Pass- the third highest pass in the world... 17,800 feet in the sky... (the highest in the world is just across the way in Nubra valley)... We had a cup of tea, took some photos of JohnE's flip flopped feet in the snow and then piled back in the car and kept on going.
"only 2 hours to go" our driver said.
JohnE and I looked at eachother in horror! Nobody told us (or else we missed the memo) that it took 5 hours to get to the lake- where we'd turn around and drive back.
I started getting antsy, irritated and feeling trapped.
Before, I just wanted the driver to slow down feeling nauseous with his speed on the scary turns .... now I just wanted him to GO!!!
Although the views were breathtaking, I did not want to spend 10 hours in a car today.
My skin was crawling.
... We reached a straight away in the red rock desert and all I could think was to ask the driver to floor it, when one of those signs came up
It said,
"you are not being chased"
I started laughing... Remembering a little boy named Brendan that was in the green room where I taught preschool in Pacific Palisades...
The kids would chase him on the playground until I told him
"if you don't run- they can't chase you."
He went out into the yard and closed his eyes and stood still. The kids got bored and found something else to do instead of waiting for Brendan to run.
I couldn't run from time or this commitment to be in a car for 10 hours so I decided to just accept it and breathe it in and not try to push time or will the hours to tick by faster.
I gazed out at the melting mountains... The dusty rock fields where yaks and pachmina sheep and goats roamed aimlessly.
The occasional terraced barley field or collection of red apricot trees were spattered among the military bases and checkpoints- their huts and houses made of mudbricks with roofs that were simply sticks piled side by side with mud and yak dung patties stacked on top.
Colorful prayer flags and mani wheels ever-present...
More signs encouraging drivers to go slow.
Did you know you could never go too slow?
The lake was honestly beautiful but somewhat underwhelming.
I think the mentawais have spoiled me for thinking any body of water is pretty.
My I-thing ran out of batteries so I couldn't take any more photos... But I didn't mind too much.
John got very sick on the drive back- stopping to puke in the rocks and snow every so often. (I think a mix of altitude sickness and the bread from the shady place we stopped at for breakfast).
He was asleep when the sun dropped into that divine white sunset... I almost woke him up and then I realized that this moment was for me.
It called me back to burning man in 2009.
I sat cross legged facing my soul brother I had just met.
We sat in the dust, not unlike this place.
He wore mirrored aviator sunglasses as we sat there in silence looking at each-other.
Over his left shoulder was the temple- a wooden structure of prayers and blessings. Behind that was the black rock mountains... The full moon was setting just to the right of the temple- the night sky was now shades of indigo that turned to purple an eventually lavender over our heads.
Through the mirrored aviators hanging on his face, I could see the reflection of the sun rising in all it's yellows and oranges behind me.
I didn't have a camera at that moment but that image stuck in my mind and heart eternally.
I think this one will be the same.
Because i chose to slow down, recognized that i was not being chased, and just breathed in that car ride, i was able to take the photograph in my mind, in my heart, of the sunset showing me heaven's light over the Himalayas ... The crown chakra of the world.
I started a poem with that line one time.
I remember it vividly.
It was 2 years ago. My friend Devin had just died and I had gone up north to my parents house which was then in San Francisco for some green couch therapy. (you sink into their butter soft green couches and somehow everything is better).
Anyways, I was on my way back to LA, driving alone with the top down on my convertible (as always)... And came to the foot of the grapevine on I-5 just as the sun was setting- I pulled over at a rest stop and wrote a poem that started with that line
"did a sunset ever show you heaven's light?"
This evening, 2 years later, our Ladahki driver winds back down the Himalayan road that took us on an all day journey to Pangong Lake- a 160km long lake that sits 25% in India and 75% in Tibet.We only spent an hour tops at the lake, sipped some tea and then retraced our treacherous path- but as we reached Karu for the second time in the day, the sunset showed me heaven's light...
But I mean, seriously.
The sun dropped behind the craggy Himalayan skyline and illuminated the entire sky- creating a vibrant visible halo around the lower lying clouds- but the light of this sunset was only one color
And I don't quite know how to explain it.
The closest I came come to describing the color of the light is "white" but it was truly divine iridescent, opalescent, blindingly divine white light that cascaded out of this sunset from behind the white mountaintops.
This is the crown chakra of India- maybe of the world.
The white stupas (little monuments built as punishment, or a memorial or for fortune) look like crowns upon the earth here.
... The clear god-consciousness in the eyes of each person, this sunset showing heaven's light, and the poplar-like trees that reach straight up towards the sky all but solidify this idea to me.
This is the crown chakra.
But... Let me back up to how I came to this sunset out in no man's land...
Leh, Ladakh a few days ago...
JohnE and I finished our brunch at the Gesmo Cafe- cups of coffee, masala omlettes, and a peanut cookie from the German bakery.
A table nearby had 4 or 5 western backpackers all coordinating who would go get what before they started their trek.
They were real Trekkers, we could tell. Their huge backpacks seemed to have everything including huge rolls of foam (probably to sleep on in this sub zero climate). They has the air of the group that had come together organically... It sounded like they were mostly Europeans as they sat munching on cookies and plotting their route into the mountains.
Across from them was a table of 3 army men... They looked middle eastern and kind of mean. They were very rush rush about getting their coffees.
John and I sat next to the window in the sun... There were about a million flies around that table also seeking the warmth of the yellow light pouring in, but we didnt mind. We were happy to share it...
Through the window we could see the signs of the travel shop behind us. There were advertisements to book treks, white water raft, or ride camels, trekking in the Nubra valley.
WHOA!!! Ride a camel?
We realized looking at the photo that camels seem like the perfect animal to ride! You have a backrest and another hump to hold on to.
It looked exactly like what we wanted to do!
We paid our bill and walked next door to make arrangements for an adventure.
After realizing that it was in fact winter (if we couldn't tell from the snow and frost bit fingertips)... So a lot of the adventures were no longer available.
In fact, we found that about 80% of Ladakh was already closed down. (no wonder we loved it so much.) tourism was done for the season and most of the locals were preparing to head south to Goa for the winter while everything shuts it's doors. Even the mahabodhi center where we wanted to do a Vipasana was closed for the season.
Excited to go on some kind of adventure, we settled on a jeep safari through the Himalayas to Tso Pangong- a lake that looked pretty.
We had to leave our passports to get permission- since it's om the border and under Chinese authority.
At 7am sharp the next morning we met in front of the travel agency, introducing ourselves to the 3 Czech and 1 Russian girls we would be sharing the trip with.
After an hour we stopped for coffee (at my persistent request) at the entrance to a place called Karu.
We parked next to a sign that said "Karu- cradle of the brave" and sat in a filthy dirty cafe...
I sipped black coffee and johnE lived on the wild side and had a breakfast bread thing.
Everyone besides us were military for as far as the eye could see.
We continued on in the warm car with beautiful Ladakhi music playing "OM mani padme hum" as we wove through the canyon towards the lake.
Entering a more desolate, scary looking region a sign read,
'only the best of friends or the worst of foes would like to visit us. Juley.'
Juley is Ladakhi for Hello and Goodbye.
"check out that barbed wire" John said pointing to a rock wall with prickly thistle stuck on top...
We started our ascent Up and up the sides of these huge mountains.... Only army trucks came down passing us impossibly on the hairpin turns.
Red bush scattered the desert floor among the pink and purple hued rocks. The mountains varied so much, from dripping chocolate desert mountains to icy snow covered shards of granite colored stone on the other.
My knuckles were white as they gripped the seat in front of me while our car zipped along these avalanche and landslide prone roads with no barriers.
Occasional witty words of warning were painted next to the roads advising cars to slow down and not speed.
Like, "be slow on my curves"
And "time is money, but life is precious"
Army checkpoint after army checkpoint... We would stop and hand over our passports.
Hairpin turns cut impossibly through jagged rock mountains that seem to jut out beside us like crystals... I have NO idea how these roads were actually made.
We climbed higher and higher into the snow on icy, unpaved roads until we reached Changla Pass- the third highest pass in the world... 17,800 feet in the sky... (the highest in the world is just across the way in Nubra valley)... We had a cup of tea, took some photos of JohnE's flip flopped feet in the snow and then piled back in the car and kept on going.
"only 2 hours to go" our driver said.
JohnE and I looked at eachother in horror! Nobody told us (or else we missed the memo) that it took 5 hours to get to the lake- where we'd turn around and drive back.
I started getting antsy, irritated and feeling trapped.
Before, I just wanted the driver to slow down feeling nauseous with his speed on the scary turns .... now I just wanted him to GO!!!
Although the views were breathtaking, I did not want to spend 10 hours in a car today.
My skin was crawling.
... We reached a straight away in the red rock desert and all I could think was to ask the driver to floor it, when one of those signs came up
It said,
"you are not being chased"
I started laughing... Remembering a little boy named Brendan that was in the green room where I taught preschool in Pacific Palisades...
The kids would chase him on the playground until I told him
"if you don't run- they can't chase you."
He went out into the yard and closed his eyes and stood still. The kids got bored and found something else to do instead of waiting for Brendan to run.
I couldn't run from time or this commitment to be in a car for 10 hours so I decided to just accept it and breathe it in and not try to push time or will the hours to tick by faster.
I gazed out at the melting mountains... The dusty rock fields where yaks and pachmina sheep and goats roamed aimlessly.
The occasional terraced barley field or collection of red apricot trees were spattered among the military bases and checkpoints- their huts and houses made of mudbricks with roofs that were simply sticks piled side by side with mud and yak dung patties stacked on top.
Colorful prayer flags and mani wheels ever-present...
More signs encouraging drivers to go slow.
Did you know you could never go too slow?
The lake was honestly beautiful but somewhat underwhelming.
I think the mentawais have spoiled me for thinking any body of water is pretty.
My I-thing ran out of batteries so I couldn't take any more photos... But I didn't mind too much.
John got very sick on the drive back- stopping to puke in the rocks and snow every so often. (I think a mix of altitude sickness and the bread from the shady place we stopped at for breakfast).
He was asleep when the sun dropped into that divine white sunset... I almost woke him up and then I realized that this moment was for me.
It called me back to burning man in 2009.
I sat cross legged facing my soul brother I had just met.
We sat in the dust, not unlike this place.
He wore mirrored aviator sunglasses as we sat there in silence looking at each-other.
Over his left shoulder was the temple- a wooden structure of prayers and blessings. Behind that was the black rock mountains... The full moon was setting just to the right of the temple- the night sky was now shades of indigo that turned to purple an eventually lavender over our heads.
Through the mirrored aviators hanging on his face, I could see the reflection of the sun rising in all it's yellows and oranges behind me.
I didn't have a camera at that moment but that image stuck in my mind and heart eternally.
I think this one will be the same.
Because i chose to slow down, recognized that i was not being chased, and just breathed in that car ride, i was able to take the photograph in my mind, in my heart, of the sunset showing me heaven's light over the Himalayas ... The crown chakra of the world.
Hima-Lay-you-out with the magic
HimaLAY-ya flat out on yo ass!
The beauty of this mountain range... It will seriously lay you out.
Watching the sun rise over a stark horizon line, illuminating the craggy Himalayan skyline beginning to poke up and creep ever higher to the north... I watch from above the clouds as we fly towards it on a very empty airplane.
We woke up in Delhi at Cottage Yes Please, to a 2:30am wakeup call. Our taxi arrived shortly after.
We rode to Delhi airport again in the dark on quiet unflustered streets. Dogs meandered in roundabouts, unafraid of buzzing motorbikes and cars... Intelligently maneuvering to avoid the traffic.. Barking for US to get out of the way.
India seems to reflect this sentiment displayed by the dogs.
Compassionate yet confrontational...
The beggars in the Delhi street walk into you, pushing you into oncoming tuk-tuks and streams of wild traffic.
India is politely unapologetic.
I pondered the poetic symbolic comparison between the culture and climate- reflecting on the artistic illustration of indo culture through the dogs, streets and people...
Indonesia is beaten... Battered... Structureless & lawless...
Roundabouts don't exist- just junctions where 5 mangled beaten down streets meet and everyone just goes at the same time... There are no traffic lights or rules.
Dogs are abused... Considered competition to humans who harrass them because there is not enough to go around. They seem braindead and lifeless in Padang due to lack of nutrients and sustenance.
The dogs in Delhi are noticeably healthier - clearly better fed due to the mass amount of people and therefore endless scraps to eat. They're bigger, meatier and more confident, though still stray in the third world way.
The weather too, like the dogs in a region, can illustrate a cultural comparison... In indo the conditions are harsh and the islands take a beating from nature with earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, malaria, dengue, a myriad of infections that spread like wild fire in the humid tropical heat.
India has every climate, terrain and weather condition known to man.
(case in point- this dry desert landscape that is dropped inside a ring of dramatic snow capped mountain peaks up here juxtaposed to the tropic-like beaches of Goa or Kerala to the south)
In a postcard to my parents I described Delhi as "colorful & claustrrphobic... Spicy & sweet..."
It's everything all at once.
Truman Capote once said "Venice, Italy is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs."
I think perhaps India is like eating an entire box of Altoids- those self proclaimed "curiously strong mints"
... I would imagine eating an entire box of altoids at the same time would blow your head off-yet taste intensely delicious while confusing the senses with the curious strength.
Though it would also sooth the breath (once you were able to catch it, that is)
India is like this.
- the home of Pranayama breath-work and home to a place where dust and dirt coat the inside of your lungs... A place where the pollution is so thick, this sunrise looks like a red hot firey Phoenix rising up from ash-like smoggy haze that coats the lowlands.
I'm so glad we are going higher, even though I have been forewarned of altitude sickness by many sources and friends.
They say flying is the worst way actually because you just are there BAM up on the moon, versus the gradual climb by train and bus...
We couldn't take that option because the roads coming up from Jammu are dangerous and close often prohibiting our ability to climb into the arms of Ladakh.
So we descend into this other world-like atmosphere by airplane... Glued to the windows... Snapping hundreds to photos that can't even come close to capturing the rugged majesty of it all.
---
8am
Homestay in Ladakh
Another world... Lifting me higher.
The chemical brothers album "Further" seems like the appropriate soundtrack up here for me in this Leh, Ladakh moment.
We stepped into dry 0 degree Celsius temperatures- everyone's faces covered with warm scarves but still, we could see the looks of horror at our flip-flopped feet.
Thankfully there were still vestiges of my hipster LA style vibe tucked in my suitcase and I retrieved out my fingerless gloves and knitted beanie that have been dormant and unused for the last 8 months.
The thin air and super high altitude was dizzyingly palpable immediately stepping off the plane into the little airport.
The sparsely inhabited arid streets wind tightly through and around the little village that lays in a crater between bright cosmic looking cliffs... The foreground of the panoramic views are softened by faded prayer flags seemingly strung up everywhere.
Our new driver friend speaks English very well and offered to take us on a driving tour tomorrow.
Today we just want to chill. Re-adjust... And find some yak boots.
We stumbled through the cast-iron gates and up into the Traveller's Guesthouse - a little eco homestay with an organic garden in the middle of a few modest rooms.
Waiting for our room to be made up we sat on the balcony in the early morning sunlight silence.
"Holy shit--- it feels like we're in a library." JohnE said as we let the sunlight kiss our frosty fingertips.
All I could hear was the sound of a stick broom sweeping a dusty concrete corner somewhere nearby and the occasional shy tweet of a bird.
I leaned over the ledge of the balcony ledge to pick us delicious little crab apples that were hanging off a big tree in the morning light - it seemed they were begging to be eaten as our breakfast.
Crabapples in hand, we were ushered down the stairs to sign in the guestbook.
We found that the last guest who signed in and stayed was over 2 weeks ago... And that nobody speaks a lick of English.
They speak Ladakhi... A beautiful sounding language.
The dogs in Leh are fluffy, friendly and so mellow... Lounging on the streets and welcomed inside homes with peaceful acceptance and reverence of spirit.
A fluffy, chubby white poodle/golden retriever looking doggie (like an albino Abby) lives at our homestay. She just kicks it inside the living room, sitting upright on the paisley pillows watching us sip our Ginger tea and nibble on dried lentil snacks...
This living room where we drink our cup of welcome tea and warm up feels like a grandma's house... Blue and white china dishes are displayed through glass cabinets, bookshelves host various random books and framed photos adorn the walls beside potted plants and layered mismatched rugs and carpets litter the floor.
"I can't believe how quiet it is." John said again.
We found the rooftop by navigating a little hallway and essentially crawling through a 3foot opening.
It was everything I could have asked for in that moment.
180 degree views, sunlight and silence.. A perfect place to dive back into our books and chill in the most epic way.
Our plump, smily hostess signals to us instead of speaking as she beats the dust from carpets in the garden.
We think we ordered breakfast but aren't really too sure until she arrives with it an hour later.
We sit on the flat roof overlooking the palace and this surreal Tibetan kingdom.
As in Delhi, nothing would open until 11:00am-ish so we sat in the sunshine, bundled as much as possible until the shops were open and we could go wander Leh and buy some killer yak wool hats and gloves... Some fake ugg boots (for about 10 dollars)
And explore the village.
Everyone here seems so present.
The energy of the atmosphere is exactly like the people- Crystal clear, present and breathtakingly beautiful.
The air is crisp and the sky bright blue.
The consciousness of this place blows me and John away.
They have water conservation efforts (since believe it or not looking up at the glaciers hanging above us) we are in a desert.
There is NO plastic...
Purchases are given to you in paper or cloth bags...
There is no take-away....
A cup of chai or ginger tea means you sit and speak to or just be in the energy of the shop-keeper and sip from their glasses or mugs.
There is no rush for anything here.
Every store seems to have a water fill up station where they will fill your reusable bottle with filtered cleaned Himalayan glacier water.
Reaching the end of the Bazar, we sat on a step to rest for a moment on some steps that seemed away from everything so we could take it all in and catch our breath (even level trekking is exhausting at this altitude!)
And a tiny little man in red and orange robes with no teeth but the most beautiful smile you have ever seen came and snuggled up right next to us... Looking in our eyes and smiling and laughing joyously.
he wore many necklaces and beads- one had a photo of the Dalai Lama.
He spoke no English but his eyes were 100% with us as we sat together and smiled and rested for about ten minutes.
When we stood to leave and shook his hand I said "Om Ma Ni Padme Hum" - he hugged my hand tightly and smiled hugely and repeated it back to me.
In Delhi and Padang and even big cities in first world countries, it seems like an energy zapping vortex where you have to work hard not to get all your energy stolen by the crowds of people.
Here it seems like a fountain of youth or something- an endless abundance of clear beautiful energy that everyone shares and exists together side by side infusing one another with peace.
The Mani wheels are placed all throughout the city... Big jewel encrusted golden wheels that spin clockwise for luck...
There are rolled up scrolls inside each mani wheel with mantra written in Tibetan script.
Mani wheels are sold everywhere at the little booths selling yak wool, prayer beads, coral and turquoise jewelry, sculptures and prayer flags...
Little beautiful old women with deeply creased skin like melting butterscotch, sit in their stalls upon their stacks of wool socks and blankets spinning their hand held mani wheels clockwise with closed eyes and peaceful smiles.
I feel my soul spinning clockwise and find myself sleeping soundly in this place, that already has me feeling the closest to "enlightenment" as ever before.
The beauty of this mountain range... It will seriously lay you out.
Watching the sun rise over a stark horizon line, illuminating the craggy Himalayan skyline beginning to poke up and creep ever higher to the north... I watch from above the clouds as we fly towards it on a very empty airplane.
We woke up in Delhi at Cottage Yes Please, to a 2:30am wakeup call. Our taxi arrived shortly after.
We rode to Delhi airport again in the dark on quiet unflustered streets. Dogs meandered in roundabouts, unafraid of buzzing motorbikes and cars... Intelligently maneuvering to avoid the traffic.. Barking for US to get out of the way.
India seems to reflect this sentiment displayed by the dogs.
Compassionate yet confrontational...
The beggars in the Delhi street walk into you, pushing you into oncoming tuk-tuks and streams of wild traffic.
India is politely unapologetic.
I pondered the poetic symbolic comparison between the culture and climate- reflecting on the artistic illustration of indo culture through the dogs, streets and people...
Indonesia is beaten... Battered... Structureless & lawless...
Roundabouts don't exist- just junctions where 5 mangled beaten down streets meet and everyone just goes at the same time... There are no traffic lights or rules.
Dogs are abused... Considered competition to humans who harrass them because there is not enough to go around. They seem braindead and lifeless in Padang due to lack of nutrients and sustenance.
The dogs in Delhi are noticeably healthier - clearly better fed due to the mass amount of people and therefore endless scraps to eat. They're bigger, meatier and more confident, though still stray in the third world way.
The weather too, like the dogs in a region, can illustrate a cultural comparison... In indo the conditions are harsh and the islands take a beating from nature with earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, malaria, dengue, a myriad of infections that spread like wild fire in the humid tropical heat.
India has every climate, terrain and weather condition known to man.
(case in point- this dry desert landscape that is dropped inside a ring of dramatic snow capped mountain peaks up here juxtaposed to the tropic-like beaches of Goa or Kerala to the south)
In a postcard to my parents I described Delhi as "colorful & claustrrphobic... Spicy & sweet..."
It's everything all at once.
Truman Capote once said "Venice, Italy is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs."
I think perhaps India is like eating an entire box of Altoids- those self proclaimed "curiously strong mints"
... I would imagine eating an entire box of altoids at the same time would blow your head off-yet taste intensely delicious while confusing the senses with the curious strength.
Though it would also sooth the breath (once you were able to catch it, that is)
India is like this.
- the home of Pranayama breath-work and home to a place where dust and dirt coat the inside of your lungs... A place where the pollution is so thick, this sunrise looks like a red hot firey Phoenix rising up from ash-like smoggy haze that coats the lowlands.
I'm so glad we are going higher, even though I have been forewarned of altitude sickness by many sources and friends.
They say flying is the worst way actually because you just are there BAM up on the moon, versus the gradual climb by train and bus...
We couldn't take that option because the roads coming up from Jammu are dangerous and close often prohibiting our ability to climb into the arms of Ladakh.
So we descend into this other world-like atmosphere by airplane... Glued to the windows... Snapping hundreds to photos that can't even come close to capturing the rugged majesty of it all.
---
8am
Homestay in Ladakh
Another world... Lifting me higher.
The chemical brothers album "Further" seems like the appropriate soundtrack up here for me in this Leh, Ladakh moment.
We stepped into dry 0 degree Celsius temperatures- everyone's faces covered with warm scarves but still, we could see the looks of horror at our flip-flopped feet.
Thankfully there were still vestiges of my hipster LA style vibe tucked in my suitcase and I retrieved out my fingerless gloves and knitted beanie that have been dormant and unused for the last 8 months.
The thin air and super high altitude was dizzyingly palpable immediately stepping off the plane into the little airport.
The sparsely inhabited arid streets wind tightly through and around the little village that lays in a crater between bright cosmic looking cliffs... The foreground of the panoramic views are softened by faded prayer flags seemingly strung up everywhere.
Our new driver friend speaks English very well and offered to take us on a driving tour tomorrow.
Today we just want to chill. Re-adjust... And find some yak boots.
We stumbled through the cast-iron gates and up into the Traveller's Guesthouse - a little eco homestay with an organic garden in the middle of a few modest rooms.
Waiting for our room to be made up we sat on the balcony in the early morning sunlight silence.
"Holy shit--- it feels like we're in a library." JohnE said as we let the sunlight kiss our frosty fingertips.
All I could hear was the sound of a stick broom sweeping a dusty concrete corner somewhere nearby and the occasional shy tweet of a bird.
I leaned over the ledge of the balcony ledge to pick us delicious little crab apples that were hanging off a big tree in the morning light - it seemed they were begging to be eaten as our breakfast.
Crabapples in hand, we were ushered down the stairs to sign in the guestbook.
We found that the last guest who signed in and stayed was over 2 weeks ago... And that nobody speaks a lick of English.
They speak Ladakhi... A beautiful sounding language.
The dogs in Leh are fluffy, friendly and so mellow... Lounging on the streets and welcomed inside homes with peaceful acceptance and reverence of spirit.
A fluffy, chubby white poodle/golden retriever looking doggie (like an albino Abby) lives at our homestay. She just kicks it inside the living room, sitting upright on the paisley pillows watching us sip our Ginger tea and nibble on dried lentil snacks...
This living room where we drink our cup of welcome tea and warm up feels like a grandma's house... Blue and white china dishes are displayed through glass cabinets, bookshelves host various random books and framed photos adorn the walls beside potted plants and layered mismatched rugs and carpets litter the floor.
"I can't believe how quiet it is." John said again.
We found the rooftop by navigating a little hallway and essentially crawling through a 3foot opening.
It was everything I could have asked for in that moment.
180 degree views, sunlight and silence.. A perfect place to dive back into our books and chill in the most epic way.
Our plump, smily hostess signals to us instead of speaking as she beats the dust from carpets in the garden.
We think we ordered breakfast but aren't really too sure until she arrives with it an hour later.
We sit on the flat roof overlooking the palace and this surreal Tibetan kingdom.
As in Delhi, nothing would open until 11:00am-ish so we sat in the sunshine, bundled as much as possible until the shops were open and we could go wander Leh and buy some killer yak wool hats and gloves... Some fake ugg boots (for about 10 dollars)
And explore the village.
Everyone here seems so present.
The energy of the atmosphere is exactly like the people- Crystal clear, present and breathtakingly beautiful.
The air is crisp and the sky bright blue.
The consciousness of this place blows me and John away.
They have water conservation efforts (since believe it or not looking up at the glaciers hanging above us) we are in a desert.
There is NO plastic...
Purchases are given to you in paper or cloth bags...
There is no take-away....
A cup of chai or ginger tea means you sit and speak to or just be in the energy of the shop-keeper and sip from their glasses or mugs.
There is no rush for anything here.
Every store seems to have a water fill up station where they will fill your reusable bottle with filtered cleaned Himalayan glacier water.
Reaching the end of the Bazar, we sat on a step to rest for a moment on some steps that seemed away from everything so we could take it all in and catch our breath (even level trekking is exhausting at this altitude!)
And a tiny little man in red and orange robes with no teeth but the most beautiful smile you have ever seen came and snuggled up right next to us... Looking in our eyes and smiling and laughing joyously.
he wore many necklaces and beads- one had a photo of the Dalai Lama.
He spoke no English but his eyes were 100% with us as we sat together and smiled and rested for about ten minutes.
When we stood to leave and shook his hand I said "Om Ma Ni Padme Hum" - he hugged my hand tightly and smiled hugely and repeated it back to me.
In Delhi and Padang and even big cities in first world countries, it seems like an energy zapping vortex where you have to work hard not to get all your energy stolen by the crowds of people.
Here it seems like a fountain of youth or something- an endless abundance of clear beautiful energy that everyone shares and exists together side by side infusing one another with peace.
The Mani wheels are placed all throughout the city... Big jewel encrusted golden wheels that spin clockwise for luck... There are rolled up scrolls inside each mani wheel with mantra written in Tibetan script.
Mani wheels are sold everywhere at the little booths selling yak wool, prayer beads, coral and turquoise jewelry, sculptures and prayer flags...
Little beautiful old women with deeply creased skin like melting butterscotch, sit in their stalls upon their stacks of wool socks and blankets spinning their hand held mani wheels clockwise with closed eyes and peaceful smiles.
I feel my soul spinning clockwise and find myself sleeping soundly in this place, that already has me feeling the closest to "enlightenment" as ever before.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
"yak butter traveling flip flops..."
Saturday.
India.
"If you give us enough coffee we'll trek anywhere...
As long as we can wear flip flops.... And it's level." -J.O.
We started at daybreak.. Walking and walking, all over the sleeping streets of Delhi that would soon be crawling and spinning.
A huge grey monkey with a red face stared at us from atop a closed up building.
I ducked behind a parked taxi to avoid the thing as it walked towards us menacingly, totally freaking me out.
John said he wanted to take it home so Beaker could have a friend.
Typical.
We laughed as we walked and walked....
Ate breakfast at an open cafe-- daal and rice flour things served in the most minute itty bitty tiny portions... Thimbles of coffee and food brought out to us in plates that were literally circles the circumference of a coke can- half a centimeter deep filled with one dollop of food.
We felt like SUCH fatasses wanting to order 10 more orders...
Went paid, left and went over to eat more off the street carts, finally feeling fappy (fat & happy) like the laughing buddahs that line the streets here.
We wandered into (as gross as it sounds) an ear-wax cleaning park where men sat us down on the nasty grass and picked inside our ears with tiny wires... Cleaning them out so fully that I found myself seriously regretting it as soon as we walked back into traffic.
It turns out:
1. This is a deafeningly loud city.
2. I used to be deaf
We made our way back to the cottage yes please in a tuktuk and sat with the concierge, booking our tickets to Ladakh... (we leave tonight)... Checked emails and skyped with Shayno who was back in Padang getting ready to head back out across the great divide and into the Mentawais tonight... And then we went back out - emerging back into the growing hustle and bustle.
Finding a bookstore in Connaught Place circle vortex, we bought (for the second time) the books we had bought in KL and then promptly lost at the Delhi airport 8 hours later.
Ainz texted JohnE from the island... "yak butter traveling flip flops..."
Overwhelm and sensory overload kicks in quickly on the streets -and cafes are like little havens nestled into the mayhem.
We tucked in to one called the Nirvana Cafe because it had "yak cheese salad" on the menu outside and we thought of Ainz and laughed.
Climbing a narrow flight of stairs and sliding into a window-side table, we sipped chai tea and watched the dizziest busiest street ever...
Pahar Ganj spins and spins and never stops to come up for air.
The horns don't stop.
From our little eagle eye view, we see a sizable chunk of the hustle and clusterfuck that is this place.
A yellow and green tuk tuk runs into a bike driven rickshaw stacked with people and boxes... A huge white ox pulls an ancient almost gothic looking cart... Men with dark skin wrapped in orange fabrics glow beneath their dusty dirt coating... the pulsating rays of white sun beat down between the buildings...
This rasta backbacker style cafe, that we chose to take a time out in, plays burning man playa-style beats through a speaker. The song that goes on and on has a sample of a water droplet behind the electronic thumps and whomps.
After ten or so minutes of sipping in silence and watching this all... John said definitively, "This is exactly the extreme opposite of how I live" As he continued staring out at the street through the rusty railing bars in shocked wonder.
Truly... It is the complete polar opposite to Pitojat Island and Togat Nusa Retreat.
We started talking about the joys of being alone... I hated it when i was younger... Always wanting to be with someone doing something, until i learned that i actually really like me... Enjoying my own company in peace.
The horns continued to wail around motorbike engines and voices haggling prices in Hindi. The odd gaggle of women in saris float through the traffic jams and seemingly sea of men, as though fully unaffected. Desensitized, it seemed. They look so beautiful and fancy, but their calloused feet walk barefoot over dirt and trash piled in potholes that act as a road somehow.
People cook on the road- crouched down in the steam coming off their frying oil...
Here there are juice makers and pop corn poppers, pastry fryers and curry cookers squatting next to endless woks next to more woks and then little side-woks.
But HA! Hows that?
there are only side-woks... no sidewalks.
The roads become more and more filthy with each passing hour.
The open wounds on my feet begin to ache, sting and swell under the bandages that are securely taped on my skin.
(my right foot has 3 reef cuts and a badly infected blister from my famous boots that I insisted on wearing last week eventhough they rubbed on the reef cuts and made my foot swell up like a balloon.)
Back in the peace of the hotel room, I shower and lay back with my feet up the wall hoping to drain out some of the inflammation and let the blood recirculate... Praying and willing that it not be staph.
My brain had a conversation with itself as my eyes adjusted to the lack of action in the room and my brain decompressed a little in the soft light...
"Shit, dude. This is not good for trekking anywhere! Even on level ground... Especially in flip flops... But a real shoe would KILL to wear too. Dammit zani. A gypsy needs her feet to prance and dance around and adventure...
I wonder what is this message? I asked the universe what it wants of me in India. So why is it basically crippling me right now? What's up with that?"
At that moment johnE laying on his back reading the Lonely Planet's chapter on Ladakh again, rolled over, turning to me and said
"So what's this Vipasana? Maybe we should go meditate up there with the Tibetan Buddhist monks."
Ding ding ding.
Done.
Ladakh is the tippy top northern mountainous region of India near Kashmir. It's a desert climate but also up in the Himalayan Mountains (4000meters high in some parts)... the name "Ladakh" apparently means "land of high passes" and according to more then one source, it totally resembles the moon... But with prayer flags.
Not a bad pitch line, right?
Check out these photos, taken by a friend of a friend...
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.255280154507574.58490.100000767753271&type=3
I am pretty much as unprepared for the frozen Himalayan weather as one can get.
I have 17 bikins.
No long sleeves or socks (obviously).
But hell... As long as we're swinging from pole to pole- finding exact opposites... Let's mosey on out of sweltering, spinning Delhi tonight and fly on up to the moon to sit in dead silent meditation, right?
Right.
So... Stay tuned.
With love,
...in flip flops,
Zanskar
(that's my new self appointed nickname... Since the area of Zanskar, nearby to Ladakh is described in Lonely Planet as "majestically rugged" and I like that a whole lot.)
Namaste y'all.
India.
"If you give us enough coffee we'll trek anywhere...
As long as we can wear flip flops.... And it's level." -J.O.
We started at daybreak.. Walking and walking, all over the sleeping streets of Delhi that would soon be crawling and spinning.
A huge grey monkey with a red face stared at us from atop a closed up building.
I ducked behind a parked taxi to avoid the thing as it walked towards us menacingly, totally freaking me out.
John said he wanted to take it home so Beaker could have a friend.
Typical.
We laughed as we walked and walked....
Ate breakfast at an open cafe-- daal and rice flour things served in the most minute itty bitty tiny portions... Thimbles of coffee and food brought out to us in plates that were literally circles the circumference of a coke can- half a centimeter deep filled with one dollop of food.
We felt like SUCH fatasses wanting to order 10 more orders...
Went paid, left and went over to eat more off the street carts, finally feeling fappy (fat & happy) like the laughing buddahs that line the streets here.
We wandered into (as gross as it sounds) an ear-wax cleaning park where men sat us down on the nasty grass and picked inside our ears with tiny wires... Cleaning them out so fully that I found myself seriously regretting it as soon as we walked back into traffic.
It turns out:
1. This is a deafeningly loud city.
2. I used to be deaf
We made our way back to the cottage yes please in a tuktuk and sat with the concierge, booking our tickets to Ladakh... (we leave tonight)... Checked emails and skyped with Shayno who was back in Padang getting ready to head back out across the great divide and into the Mentawais tonight... And then we went back out - emerging back into the growing hustle and bustle.
Finding a bookstore in Connaught Place circle vortex, we bought (for the second time) the books we had bought in KL and then promptly lost at the Delhi airport 8 hours later.
Ainz texted JohnE from the island... "yak butter traveling flip flops..."
Overwhelm and sensory overload kicks in quickly on the streets -and cafes are like little havens nestled into the mayhem.
We tucked in to one called the Nirvana Cafe because it had "yak cheese salad" on the menu outside and we thought of Ainz and laughed.
Climbing a narrow flight of stairs and sliding into a window-side table, we sipped chai tea and watched the dizziest busiest street ever...
Pahar Ganj spins and spins and never stops to come up for air.
The horns don't stop.
From our little eagle eye view, we see a sizable chunk of the hustle and clusterfuck that is this place.
A yellow and green tuk tuk runs into a bike driven rickshaw stacked with people and boxes... A huge white ox pulls an ancient almost gothic looking cart... Men with dark skin wrapped in orange fabrics glow beneath their dusty dirt coating... the pulsating rays of white sun beat down between the buildings...
This rasta backbacker style cafe, that we chose to take a time out in, plays burning man playa-style beats through a speaker. The song that goes on and on has a sample of a water droplet behind the electronic thumps and whomps.
After ten or so minutes of sipping in silence and watching this all... John said definitively, "This is exactly the extreme opposite of how I live" As he continued staring out at the street through the rusty railing bars in shocked wonder.
Truly... It is the complete polar opposite to Pitojat Island and Togat Nusa Retreat.
We started talking about the joys of being alone... I hated it when i was younger... Always wanting to be with someone doing something, until i learned that i actually really like me... Enjoying my own company in peace.
The horns continued to wail around motorbike engines and voices haggling prices in Hindi. The odd gaggle of women in saris float through the traffic jams and seemingly sea of men, as though fully unaffected. Desensitized, it seemed. They look so beautiful and fancy, but their calloused feet walk barefoot over dirt and trash piled in potholes that act as a road somehow.
People cook on the road- crouched down in the steam coming off their frying oil...
Here there are juice makers and pop corn poppers, pastry fryers and curry cookers squatting next to endless woks next to more woks and then little side-woks.
But HA! Hows that?
there are only side-woks... no sidewalks.
The roads become more and more filthy with each passing hour.
The open wounds on my feet begin to ache, sting and swell under the bandages that are securely taped on my skin.
(my right foot has 3 reef cuts and a badly infected blister from my famous boots that I insisted on wearing last week eventhough they rubbed on the reef cuts and made my foot swell up like a balloon.)
Back in the peace of the hotel room, I shower and lay back with my feet up the wall hoping to drain out some of the inflammation and let the blood recirculate... Praying and willing that it not be staph.
My brain had a conversation with itself as my eyes adjusted to the lack of action in the room and my brain decompressed a little in the soft light...
"Shit, dude. This is not good for trekking anywhere! Even on level ground... Especially in flip flops... But a real shoe would KILL to wear too. Dammit zani. A gypsy needs her feet to prance and dance around and adventure...
I wonder what is this message? I asked the universe what it wants of me in India. So why is it basically crippling me right now? What's up with that?"
At that moment johnE laying on his back reading the Lonely Planet's chapter on Ladakh again, rolled over, turning to me and said
"So what's this Vipasana? Maybe we should go meditate up there with the Tibetan Buddhist monks."
Ding ding ding.
Done.
Ladakh is the tippy top northern mountainous region of India near Kashmir. It's a desert climate but also up in the Himalayan Mountains (4000meters high in some parts)... the name "Ladakh" apparently means "land of high passes" and according to more then one source, it totally resembles the moon... But with prayer flags.
Not a bad pitch line, right?
Check out these photos, taken by a friend of a friend...
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.255280154507574.58490.100000767753271&type=3
I am pretty much as unprepared for the frozen Himalayan weather as one can get.
I have 17 bikins.
No long sleeves or socks (obviously).
But hell... As long as we're swinging from pole to pole- finding exact opposites... Let's mosey on out of sweltering, spinning Delhi tonight and fly on up to the moon to sit in dead silent meditation, right?
Right.
So... Stay tuned.
With love,
...in flip flops,
Zanskar
(that's my new self appointed nickname... Since the area of Zanskar, nearby to Ladakh is described in Lonely Planet as "majestically rugged" and I like that a whole lot.)
Namaste y'all.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Journey to Delhi
Journey to Delhi
I made the wake-up calls at 5:25am to JohnE who's room was right above ours, and to Joey who was already up and adam though i quoted my grandfather nonetheless... singing in a way that was way-too-chip-chirper-for-the-time-of-morning "wakie wakie eggs and bakie!"
It sunk in a little bit while i stood under the hot maranatha shower that i was really leaving Padang for the last time this season...
At 6am Shayne, JohnE and I had coffee and waited for Joey who arrived in the taxicar that would take us to the airport
I said goodbye to Shayno, who's side I have literally not left in over 2 months.
The taxi cruised quickly through Padang in the early morning.
We sipped our caramel flavored coffees that Joey had brought us.
The sun erupted over a mountain over my right shoulder- shooting rays of lavender and pink over the palm tree lusciousness and into the breaking day.
Our flight was relavtively empty and seemed to fly by as I wrote about the fall and falling...
Then we landed (with a thud) and the noise and chaos of our destination seemed like it was deafening.
Joey hurried off to catch his flight to LA by way of Taipei...
John and I meandered and took our time... (we had 9 hours to kill afterall.)
We cleared Malaysian customs grimacing at the signs that say in no uncertain terms "DEATH TO DRUG TRAFFICKERS"...
They don't mince their words huh?
We waited and waited around the carousel watching these beautiful Cambodian monks peacefully waiting for their bags and boxes, seeming to float above everything that was transpiring around them in the baggage claim terminal.
(I want to remember how to do this)... we hadn't seen these monks earlier on our flight somehow.
Suddenly we realized we were at the wrong carrousel and my backpack was on the floor next to the now stopped empty carousel behind us.
We laughed at ourselves and wondered how long we would have waited if the unfamiliar peace wielding monks hadn't given away our mistake.
We came out into the LCCT- had a starbucks and started to shrivel in the heat and noise and energy around the terminal that seemed devoid of oxygen all together.
We had to get away.
We were both fully repelled by the chaos and decided we needed a tree to sit beneath in a park... So we just started walking.
No clue where to...
Pushing our luggage, power walking to who knows where in our flip flops.
Wandering KL with our bags stacked on the airport trolly we realized we were rockin the full-on homeless hobo style.
Gypsy vibes.
We found ourselves running the wrong way down a highway with no sidewalk towards something that looked like nature.
We just want to find a tree to sit underneath. Apparently a lot to ask for turns out.
We found the closest thing- some chairs under a shade structure... There were trees nearby so we could breathe and it was relatively quiet. We were stoked on it and burned a few hours talking about astrology and then Togat Nusa's last season and the crew/family! (and how rad Ainsley is who's holding down the island while her husband plays gypsy traveler with me for a few weeks)
Around 1pm we decided to maneuver our homeless-style stolen trolly up and down awkward staircases and sketchy gutters back towards the airport- navigating ourselves around the notedly wheel-chair unfriendly area.
We found a nice pub with indo food, comfy chairs & fresh juice... Then suddenly it felt like it was time to head back and check in.
New machines allow you to check in by scanning a barcode off your iPhone- JohnE has only been out of Indonesia about twice in 10 years. The last time i think was a solid 5 years ago.
He was like whoa- the touch screen check in kiosks where you type your confirmation number is already antiquated before I even figured it out.
Everything moves at the speed of buzzzzz....
Another coffee and we had successfully SMASHED our 9 hours in KL... Before we knew it, we were boarding our Delhi flight and greeted with "Namaste" by the air hostesses.
"this is so cool how this fell into place!" I said as we boarded the flight!
Spontaneity rocks.
I walked up the stairs of the plane only to find that I'd spontaneously been bumped up to business class bulkhead!
Woo woo!
Thank you universe for that little gift.
JohnE was not so lucky with an enormous man's ass cheeks smashed on his lap the whole flight.
I fell into Patti Smith's novel for the whole 5.5hour flight....
"Just Kids"
Cary left it for me when we were in Thailand and I'm in love with it.
My reflection in the airplane mirror showed highly bloodshot eyes but I could not stop reading even though my vision was going blurry.
My little round light poured down over the pages as the rest of the flight slept.
I was just so captivated- relating to her like nobody I can think of that I've ever met.
Between the poetry, music, art...
Her voice... The tempo that her words seem to spill out in...
I feel so incredibly inspired.
It made me to excited to see AARON! He's up in the Anapurnas in Nepal right now but we'll be meeting up within a week or so.
The main cabin lights came on as we started our descent and a voice came over the speakers notifying us that we were about to be fumigated before landing (yes... fumigated) and that it was advised for us to cover our faces.
I have no clue what that's all about.
Further and further the plane dropped down through the clouds, my face covered- buried in a sarong that smelled like ocean.
I felt like I could see/feel through my closed eyes this seemingly mustard colored sea of energy buzzing beneath us.
We were entering the Indian atmosphere and I felt it... Strongly.
I felt strangely claustrophobic... Imagining being surrounded by people and suffocated by people and noise like at KL airport earlier this morning when we had to run away and find a tree!
Below us there was a sprawling metropolis of that same chaotic energy.
I felt the desire to fly up up and away instead of descending into the thickness of it...
I felt a fear contraction for a moment... And then suddenly the feeling vanished and I visualized the Cambodian monks at the luggage carousel and the sense of ease and comfort they exuded.
They seemed to float right through it all... Softening and calming every atom around them... As though lilies would sigh and gracefully unfold, bowing to their peaceful presence.
This is what I needed to remember to embody and maintain as I enter this vortex...
But I'm ready.
I have arrived and am ready to discover what the Universe wants of me in India.
My eyes are crossing. Time to sleep... "Cottage Yes Please"
yes... Please. You're adorable. I'm so glad to be here!
More tomorrow.
With peace peace peace & chai tea...
Namaste my friends
I made the wake-up calls at 5:25am to JohnE who's room was right above ours, and to Joey who was already up and adam though i quoted my grandfather nonetheless... singing in a way that was way-too-chip-chirper-for-the-time-of-morning "wakie wakie eggs and bakie!"
It sunk in a little bit while i stood under the hot maranatha shower that i was really leaving Padang for the last time this season...
At 6am Shayne, JohnE and I had coffee and waited for Joey who arrived in the taxicar that would take us to the airport
I said goodbye to Shayno, who's side I have literally not left in over 2 months.
The taxi cruised quickly through Padang in the early morning.
We sipped our caramel flavored coffees that Joey had brought us.
The sun erupted over a mountain over my right shoulder- shooting rays of lavender and pink over the palm tree lusciousness and into the breaking day.
Our flight was relavtively empty and seemed to fly by as I wrote about the fall and falling...
Then we landed (with a thud) and the noise and chaos of our destination seemed like it was deafening.
Joey hurried off to catch his flight to LA by way of Taipei...
John and I meandered and took our time... (we had 9 hours to kill afterall.)
We cleared Malaysian customs grimacing at the signs that say in no uncertain terms "DEATH TO DRUG TRAFFICKERS"...
They don't mince their words huh?
We waited and waited around the carousel watching these beautiful Cambodian monks peacefully waiting for their bags and boxes, seeming to float above everything that was transpiring around them in the baggage claim terminal.
(I want to remember how to do this)... we hadn't seen these monks earlier on our flight somehow.
Suddenly we realized we were at the wrong carrousel and my backpack was on the floor next to the now stopped empty carousel behind us.
We laughed at ourselves and wondered how long we would have waited if the unfamiliar peace wielding monks hadn't given away our mistake.
We came out into the LCCT- had a starbucks and started to shrivel in the heat and noise and energy around the terminal that seemed devoid of oxygen all together.
We had to get away.
We were both fully repelled by the chaos and decided we needed a tree to sit beneath in a park... So we just started walking.
No clue where to...
Pushing our luggage, power walking to who knows where in our flip flops.
Wandering KL with our bags stacked on the airport trolly we realized we were rockin the full-on homeless hobo style.
Gypsy vibes.
We found ourselves running the wrong way down a highway with no sidewalk towards something that looked like nature.
We just want to find a tree to sit underneath. Apparently a lot to ask for turns out.
We found the closest thing- some chairs under a shade structure... There were trees nearby so we could breathe and it was relatively quiet. We were stoked on it and burned a few hours talking about astrology and then Togat Nusa's last season and the crew/family! (and how rad Ainsley is who's holding down the island while her husband plays gypsy traveler with me for a few weeks)
Around 1pm we decided to maneuver our homeless-style stolen trolly up and down awkward staircases and sketchy gutters back towards the airport- navigating ourselves around the notedly wheel-chair unfriendly area.
We found a nice pub with indo food, comfy chairs & fresh juice... Then suddenly it felt like it was time to head back and check in.
New machines allow you to check in by scanning a barcode off your iPhone- JohnE has only been out of Indonesia about twice in 10 years. The last time i think was a solid 5 years ago.
He was like whoa- the touch screen check in kiosks where you type your confirmation number is already antiquated before I even figured it out.
Everything moves at the speed of buzzzzz....
Another coffee and we had successfully SMASHED our 9 hours in KL... Before we knew it, we were boarding our Delhi flight and greeted with "Namaste" by the air hostesses.
"this is so cool how this fell into place!" I said as we boarded the flight!
Spontaneity rocks.
I walked up the stairs of the plane only to find that I'd spontaneously been bumped up to business class bulkhead!
Woo woo!
Thank you universe for that little gift.
JohnE was not so lucky with an enormous man's ass cheeks smashed on his lap the whole flight.
I fell into Patti Smith's novel for the whole 5.5hour flight....
"Just Kids"
Cary left it for me when we were in Thailand and I'm in love with it.
My reflection in the airplane mirror showed highly bloodshot eyes but I could not stop reading even though my vision was going blurry.
My little round light poured down over the pages as the rest of the flight slept.
I was just so captivated- relating to her like nobody I can think of that I've ever met.
Between the poetry, music, art...
Her voice... The tempo that her words seem to spill out in...
I feel so incredibly inspired.
It made me to excited to see AARON! He's up in the Anapurnas in Nepal right now but we'll be meeting up within a week or so.
The main cabin lights came on as we started our descent and a voice came over the speakers notifying us that we were about to be fumigated before landing (yes... fumigated) and that it was advised for us to cover our faces.
I have no clue what that's all about.
Further and further the plane dropped down through the clouds, my face covered- buried in a sarong that smelled like ocean.
I felt like I could see/feel through my closed eyes this seemingly mustard colored sea of energy buzzing beneath us.
We were entering the Indian atmosphere and I felt it... Strongly.
I felt strangely claustrophobic... Imagining being surrounded by people and suffocated by people and noise like at KL airport earlier this morning when we had to run away and find a tree!
Below us there was a sprawling metropolis of that same chaotic energy.
I felt the desire to fly up up and away instead of descending into the thickness of it...
I felt a fear contraction for a moment... And then suddenly the feeling vanished and I visualized the Cambodian monks at the luggage carousel and the sense of ease and comfort they exuded.
They seemed to float right through it all... Softening and calming every atom around them... As though lilies would sigh and gracefully unfold, bowing to their peaceful presence.
This is what I needed to remember to embody and maintain as I enter this vortex...
But I'm ready.
I have arrived and am ready to discover what the Universe wants of me in India.
My eyes are crossing. Time to sleep... "Cottage Yes Please"
yes... Please. You're adorable. I'm so glad to be here!
More tomorrow.
With peace peace peace & chai tea...
Namaste my friends
...the fall
The fall
There is a movie by this title.
If you haven't yet seen this mind-melting beautiful work of sensational cinematographic art- I highly suggest you get on that stat.
I know it's a big statement but it might be my favorite film of all time.
It's filmed in something like 28 countries in vibrant technicolor- you can taste the imagery and smell through the screen I swear.
Maybe that's why I love it... It's pretty much basically exactly like the way I live... In a multi-technicolor dreamcoat as i spin this story of my life, dancing a fairytale around every corner of this beautiful earth.
So... Ya.... Anyways...
The fall.
When I first picked up my pen to write this piece that was bubbling up inside of me, it was referring to the autumn season...
The fall.
I realized yesterday that it's October.
...beware the Zanimal in the tenth month.
But for reals... It has been studied and proven that I get weird in October and I recognize it in myself every single year.
I've parted ways in almost every relationship I've had in the month of October...
My house burned down for the first time October 27th- making for an eerie, suffocatingly smokey stenched Halloween, putting me off the holiday for life...
And i have gotten the tragic call letting me know a friend has died at least 6 times in dark Octobers across time...
Today I fly away from a partnership I fell into unintentionally but organically and happily 3 months ago.
I left the side of my island pirate boyfriend today in my typical octoberly fashion... (at least until the spring)
But whenever i experience this fall... Whenever this parting of ways happens in my life, it's always with love, gratitude and somehow stays open-ended... like the run-on sentences I write in my love letters, poetry and diary entries...
It draws to mind the turning of a tree in the fall... The leaves once green and fresh, reaching towards the sun, beginning to change colors and slowly breaking free from the branch, falling to the earth...
But it's not like the tree burns down (unless you're referring to October 93- when yes... The trees and leaves on the ground went to ash in laguna)....
But this tree I have illustrated in my imagination... This metaphorical symbol of the fall shows me a fire colored leaf sitting at the feet of the sturdy tree that bore it, still in proximity, gazing up to it's old branchy home with love and gratitude... Just waiting for a strong wind to carry it away so it can dance through the air on a breeze and explore more of the world.
The fall that I experience every fall season is a sloughing of a cocoon I've been creating- wrapping around myself for the prior season.
With gratitude, I let it fall.
On a plane to KL, Malaysia en route to Delhi, I imagined the little plane I sat in falling to the sea and instinctively contracted and gripped my rose quartz amulet I travel with in my palm tightly... Until suddenly I recognized that there would be nothing I could do at that point but surrender to the fall and find acceptance in the end of the final chapter for me if that were to be.. If that's how it was written.
This is life.
Seasons turn.
And we all fall.
I'm on the equator- just a few degrees south actually - so I think it's technically spring but hard to tell in the tropics.
Today I definitively cross into the northern hemisphere.. Into autumn... Where I will stay out this season.
It's almost my sweet soul brother Joshie's dirty thirty in LA... I'll be in India.
He pretty much fully flaked out in our adventure plans but I forgive him.
He taught me to Irish exit.
(just peacing out without heavy goodbyes)
I did that today at 6am... Irish exited Padang... Indonesia... My life for the better part of this year.
Up up and away...
Back to that other hemisphere...
Pieces of me fall.
For 8 months, around my wrist, I have worn a piece of worn, ripped, purple bandana- a piece of Joshie's doggoddess Abby Deborah Doloros (ADD) Hogan...
It fell off in the sea in the mentawais this last trip.
It was under the full moon.
Unintentionally sacrificed to the tides...
During a night swim around the island on the first full moon i spent in the mentawais this season - a piece of moonstone fell out of my cosmic ring Susan gave me before I left yogitoes to embark on this journey.
"The moon took her stone back!" I squealed! And wore it with an empty hole for 6 months.
...today at Padang airport JohnE presented me with my ring... the hole where once was moonstone ... Now filled with a chunk of coral from his home... My home...
The mentawais....
It all comes full circle doesn't it?
We let go to receive.
This goes for everything, especially love.
"if you love someone, let them go. For if they return, they were always yours, and if they don't they never were."
Or if you prefer...
"love is like a magic penny... Hold it tight and you won't have many... Lend it. Spend it. You'll I've so many, they'll roll all over the floor."
A couple of my tears fell to the floor today... The floor where all the magic pennies roll around basking in their magical abundance.
Today I bid Sampai jumpa and look forward... Onward...
To the next adventure
To the next season
To the next fall I will fall into.
There is a movie by this title.
If you haven't yet seen this mind-melting beautiful work of sensational cinematographic art- I highly suggest you get on that stat.
I know it's a big statement but it might be my favorite film of all time.
It's filmed in something like 28 countries in vibrant technicolor- you can taste the imagery and smell through the screen I swear.
Maybe that's why I love it... It's pretty much basically exactly like the way I live... In a multi-technicolor dreamcoat as i spin this story of my life, dancing a fairytale around every corner of this beautiful earth.
So... Ya.... Anyways...
The fall.
When I first picked up my pen to write this piece that was bubbling up inside of me, it was referring to the autumn season...
The fall.
I realized yesterday that it's October.
...beware the Zanimal in the tenth month.
But for reals... It has been studied and proven that I get weird in October and I recognize it in myself every single year.
I've parted ways in almost every relationship I've had in the month of October...
My house burned down for the first time October 27th- making for an eerie, suffocatingly smokey stenched Halloween, putting me off the holiday for life...
And i have gotten the tragic call letting me know a friend has died at least 6 times in dark Octobers across time...
Today I fly away from a partnership I fell into unintentionally but organically and happily 3 months ago.
I left the side of my island pirate boyfriend today in my typical octoberly fashion... (at least until the spring)
But whenever i experience this fall... Whenever this parting of ways happens in my life, it's always with love, gratitude and somehow stays open-ended... like the run-on sentences I write in my love letters, poetry and diary entries...
It draws to mind the turning of a tree in the fall... The leaves once green and fresh, reaching towards the sun, beginning to change colors and slowly breaking free from the branch, falling to the earth...
But it's not like the tree burns down (unless you're referring to October 93- when yes... The trees and leaves on the ground went to ash in laguna)....
But this tree I have illustrated in my imagination... This metaphorical symbol of the fall shows me a fire colored leaf sitting at the feet of the sturdy tree that bore it, still in proximity, gazing up to it's old branchy home with love and gratitude... Just waiting for a strong wind to carry it away so it can dance through the air on a breeze and explore more of the world.
The fall that I experience every fall season is a sloughing of a cocoon I've been creating- wrapping around myself for the prior season.
With gratitude, I let it fall.
On a plane to KL, Malaysia en route to Delhi, I imagined the little plane I sat in falling to the sea and instinctively contracted and gripped my rose quartz amulet I travel with in my palm tightly... Until suddenly I recognized that there would be nothing I could do at that point but surrender to the fall and find acceptance in the end of the final chapter for me if that were to be.. If that's how it was written.
This is life.
Seasons turn.
And we all fall.
I'm on the equator- just a few degrees south actually - so I think it's technically spring but hard to tell in the tropics.
Today I definitively cross into the northern hemisphere.. Into autumn... Where I will stay out this season.
It's almost my sweet soul brother Joshie's dirty thirty in LA... I'll be in India.
He pretty much fully flaked out in our adventure plans but I forgive him.
He taught me to Irish exit.
(just peacing out without heavy goodbyes)
I did that today at 6am... Irish exited Padang... Indonesia... My life for the better part of this year.
Up up and away...
Back to that other hemisphere...
Pieces of me fall.
For 8 months, around my wrist, I have worn a piece of worn, ripped, purple bandana- a piece of Joshie's doggoddess Abby Deborah Doloros (ADD) Hogan...
It fell off in the sea in the mentawais this last trip.
It was under the full moon.
Unintentionally sacrificed to the tides...
During a night swim around the island on the first full moon i spent in the mentawais this season - a piece of moonstone fell out of my cosmic ring Susan gave me before I left yogitoes to embark on this journey.
"The moon took her stone back!" I squealed! And wore it with an empty hole for 6 months.
...today at Padang airport JohnE presented me with my ring... the hole where once was moonstone ... Now filled with a chunk of coral from his home... My home...
The mentawais....
It all comes full circle doesn't it?
We let go to receive.
This goes for everything, especially love.
"if you love someone, let them go. For if they return, they were always yours, and if they don't they never were."
Or if you prefer...
"love is like a magic penny... Hold it tight and you won't have many... Lend it. Spend it. You'll I've so many, they'll roll all over the floor."
A couple of my tears fell to the floor today... The floor where all the magic pennies roll around basking in their magical abundance.
Today I bid Sampai jumpa and look forward... Onward...
To the next adventure
To the next season
To the next fall I will fall into.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The great divide
...I watched my last neon papaya/tangerine orangelic mentawai sunset of the season last night steering the boat as we left the magical archipelago that holds my heart as we headed back to Padang, crossing the divide of deep Indian Ocean water that must be crossed to reach shangri-la on the other side.
The crew called me Captain Jenny Sparrow as I sat up straight and tall keeping the boat on course, following the GPS and the clouds ahead... Then I got bored and let the real Captain take back over and i sat on the ground in the wheelhouse with the rest of the crew... we wrote a song in Indonesian about love.
I love how the Indos sing all the time and virtually 100% of the native population plays guitar.
I get so nostalgic when I think about the last 7 and a half months... The incredible journey.... the island and the amazing Togat Nusa season... the adventures in between my time on pulau paradise surrounded by loving friends, hermit crabs and palm trees- held in the circle of blue as i discovered lessons from the simplest of things- and befriended a monkey.... My time in the various mentawai villages, padang and around west sumatra... Jakarta and Bali excursions... and of course my Thailand goddess time spent circumnavigating the country - and my in-between moments times in Malaysia....
The fact that in two days I will be en route to India blows my mind.
Am I really doing it?
Taking this leap into the dream I've held clutched in my fist for most of my life?
Devon Cottrell Holmes, my Aunt and resident angel on my right shoulder will be accompanying me on this adventure... Guiding me as she always does.
The last few days have been emotional... The moon hung in it's fullness over the glassy water last night after the color had drained from the sky and we crossed the great divide, as we have countless times.
(I would love to see a little dotted line map of everywhere I've been- lines snaking and crossing back and forth, over themselves- wrapping my journeys in a twisted line like braided lock of hair)
Last night... The full moon in Aries.
My mother, father and I are all second born Aries babies. We are not laserbeams- we're floodlights.
We blaze fully and intensely.
This is OUR full moon.
Even before I learned all about astrology from my gurus Shelley and Jude in Venice Beach, I knew I was an Aries, Leo Rising eventhough I didn't really know what that meant exactly.
I know that I love Leos (I happen to be in a relationship with one right now)... I just love the heat of fire and fire sign people- the urge to GO... To run and explore.
Fire people get it when I tell them I need to travel and go and see and feel and experience.
I wrote a song in the cabin a few days ago- it just sort of poured out of me... I hadn't seen or thought about a caterpillar in a long time but for some reason started singing about one.
The lyrics are:
Staring at a caterpillar
Sleeping on a wall
I can't help but wonder
Why he doesn't fall
See I was once a caterpillar
Before I spread these wings
Yet Somehow I can't recall
The most important things
Like how to get to heaven
Before you die
And how to feel the ground beneath you even as you fly.
I was born a gypsy
Taught to ride the wind
I was born a dancer
And then I learned to sin
See, once you've had a taste of it
Once you have a sip
The crack begins to spider
The whole begins to rip
You'll find there's no heaven
You'll forget there's a he'll
You'll find yourself jut floating around
In this jellyfish hotel
----
I sang it to the crew up in the wheelhouse on the boat- they told me to sing it in Indonesian so I improvised after looking up the word for caterpillar in indo (which is ulat by the way in case you care)
I think the song might be even better in my funny indo translation.
... later I found myself in Padang and saw a link to a podcast of my brothers and sisters "The Mowgli's" -
https://m.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.soundcloud.com%2Fbluemicrophones%2Fthe-mowglis-blue-microphones&h=wAQDEKtfh&refid=7
I listened to the entire thing with big salty tears at bay, prepared to erupt at hearing the laughter- the story of this group of love beings who came together- I was there.
I remember it all.
I heard a story I knew- a story I lived- and my heart welled up.
We frolick as one- across the universe- lifting one another higher.
I'd be no-one without each person on that podcast.
They are my family and I will love them forever...
And I will smile....
And I'll see you there.
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