We were stardust then
Now a dance of consciousness
To stardust again
I have created a little mantra for myself when I fall into that writer trap (not that you have to be a writer to fall into the trap) of narrating something or thinking about how I will relate an experience to others instead of experiencing it fully in the present: "Learn the story before you tell the story" is what I say to myself. It helps sometimes. After the retreat I was ready to begin a blog entry with "It has been an incalculable aeon and many lifetimes since we last spoke..." I wanted to speak about subtle and gross sensations and states of mind, of oneness, plurality and emptiness, of grounds of being and the groundlessness of being...but that too seems like a lifetime ago now. I wrote many pages (including a few Haikus obviously haha) while at the center and there are some ideas I would like to organize and share, maybe while I am in the village of Mirge for the Nepalese winter I will have some time...everything is moving a little too fast for me to focus and go into that kind of detail right now, and it is hard for me to get into a mode where I feel like I can be open on a timed computer surrounded by numerous people for whom privacy and personal space are alien concepts. Suffice it to say that the retreat was revolution and surrender, difficult and worthwhile, painful, cathartic and at times quite joyful. My pagoda cell was prison, sanctuary, tomb, the cave of an ascetic and the infinite space of the clear mind. It rained everyday but two and stormed violently on a few days while I was there, which is odd considering there hadn't been a drop before and other than a five minute sprinkle in Agra, there hasn't been any since. Lightening struck so close once that I thought (before the thunder started) that a big lightbulb had just burst outside my room...and then the grounds of the center rumbled for what seemed like an eternity and it became easy to understand Israelites who thought they had heard the voice of God at Sinai or Greeks who feared the bolts of light and sound from Zeus and Hephestus on Olympus. I realized, while sitting in silence, that I missed some people...and that I was ok with that when I looked closely. This was important for me since in the past I spent much more time repressing and resenting those emotions rather than just observing what was happening in my body and mind and finding an equilibrium. I sent much good will out in all directions, I hope you got it. I have little doubt that I made the right decision to stay in Jaipur, but I was happy to be on the road again as well. I have rotated through travel partners two, three or four at a time since the end of the retreat. I have met and shared boat rides, early morning train cars, late night tuk-tuks (rickshaws), meals, sunrises and sunsets, information and theories with good people from Australia, Austria, Germany, England and Afghanistan in the past week or so...people I would not have met had I just moved on before the Satipatthana course. And the course of my life and theirs is forever changed by our encounter and shared experience...and there will never be a way to know what could or would have happened in a world where we did not cross paths. There can only be gratitude and happiness in what is, not what could have been...that is the domain of suffering. Which brings me to another haiku:
Living in the past
Never gonna be the same
So let it all go
Took a vernacular liberty there...I envoke "poetic license." And now for the report.
Agra: Home of the Taj Mahal
No one would have ever heard of Agra, India if it weren't for the Taj Mahal. The food is second rate and there is little to see or do there besides wander around Agra Fort, Fatehpur Sikri (an abandoned village an hour outside of town and briefly the capital of the Mughal Empire in the 16th cent), and a bird sanctuary (also a little ways from town). But that doesn't matter. For a moment, while walking beneath the pointed archway at the entrance gate, everyone entered their own private cosmos...the great monument to love, death and aesthetic beauty coming into view on a clear Sunday sunrise. It is truly magnificent. It is the most alive and dynamic structure I have ever seen, in person or otherwise. Its not just the size, shape or meaning, or that there is no precedent for many of the architectural features in the West, or the number of times I've seen it in movies, books or travel magazines, or because its a symbol of finally having made it to India...it was all of that and a lot more. It breathes. No architect that I know of in the west had the guts or the vision to cross the 180 degree mark of a dome to create a sort of rose bud effect guiding the mind to organic movement rather than a static stone existence. Its four sided symmetry is offset by the different grey tones of the marble bricks, and the slight outward tilt of the four minarets gives the impression that the energy of the building is pushing them outward and it all creates graceful tension. Heracleitus came to mind. He spoke of the delicate tension that held the cosmos together, not tension like stress, but the balanced tension of string and wood when they form a bow together. Monet was also there as I watched the light and shadows bring the structure to new life with each and every new angle of the sun's rays. I imagined he had painted a Taj Mahal series, like his Parliament or Rouen Cathedral paintings. Alright, before I write an art history paper...
Varanasi (Benares): The Holiest Place in Hindustan
Varanasi is like bits of all kinds of fantastic (in the absolute value sense of the word, not just the positive) dreams chopped together to make a discombobulated whole, that still somehow doesn't feel whole. It is the holiest city in India for the hundreds of millions of Hindus here. The water of the Ganges is supposed to wash away sins and to have one's body burned on the funeral pyres at the river's shore is an automatic ticket out of samsara, the cycle of rebirth, and therein a ticket out of worldly suffering. I remember sitting with my friend Jesse in Isla Vista, watching the section of "Baraka" where they show the morning puja (devotion act/prayer) on the Ganges and I dreamt of being there and seeing it with my own eyes. It wasnt a "let down" or anything but it is easier to make it look like one smooth act of religious piety with a good editor and a 30" TV screen. To me, Varanasi only seemed holy between the hours of 5 and 7 am, when men stood on the pylons doing yogic sun salutations in arched rhythms and when the pilgrims and sadhus walk down the steep steps of Dasaswambekh Ghat and bathe in and drink the water filled with human waste, garbage, diesel fuel, laundry detergent and the ashes (and sometimes, as we found out on our boat ride when we saw one, intact bodies) of the dead. Our sunrise boatride was an experience I shall not soon forget (Monet was there again as the sun rose blood red through the mist/smog and scattered its light across the water like he painted it in Impression: Sunrise [the piece from which the Impressionist movement took its name] and then rose to orange, yellow and then golden white). Neither was sitting by the charnal grounds late on my first night in the city, the smell of burnt flesh and urine in the air, watching an arrested man, restrained by a police officer say goodbye to his mother's body before they set it ablaze. There have been times where I felt it better to leave out detailed descriptions but it is, in this case, integral to the story of my time in Varanasi. As the title of this entry hints, I felt that there is a void where piety may have once stood in Varanasi...not the great void of not_Self and impermanence which is in truth filled with infinite reality and compassion, but a vast nothing. I am not just speaking about Varanasi (though it was highlighted there since it is said to be the holiest place) it seems that commercialism and monetaryism, blind tradition and ritual, have hollowed out what was once genuine spirituality in what I have seen of the Hindu religion here in India...but such is the case with every religious institution it seems...it was just highlighted for me in Varanasi when every other kid on the ghat tried to sell us hash, or when people would feed you some useless detail about the cremation ceremony and then ask for money next to five burning corpses, or how the cremation ground was organized into India's arcane caste system (that essentially every enlightened teacher in India has spoken out against), or watching how the local people treated their "holy Ganga river." I am aware that I have been in bigger cities and some tourist spots and that maybe its different in other places but its pretty consistent so far. Varanasi one of those places you have to see, but that I can't really recommend if you know what I mean. Visiting the art museum and Siva Temple on the campus of Benares Hindu University was a much more peaceful experience (pictures on facebook) but I will not go into details about that at this point. I have to go move my things, its getting dark and the University library is closing.
I hope everyone had a Thanksgiving filled with gratitude and not too much bickering. I'll be writing more soon. Metta to you all. :).
Breathing in and out
A place to rest awareness
This present moment
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Things I Like...and a change of plan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ak5K4M3X2c
Since there has been an overabundance of thoughts regarding things I dislike or that bother me, or things by which I am overwhelmed (as there are many of those in India when traveling alone), I have decided to make a list of some things that I like or am grateful for. These items came up either by their notable absence or presence, or by way of a memory here on my travels. I suggest you do the same if you are having trouble with negative mental states...you are welcome to note some "likes" down below in the commentary field if you so desire.
I like being healthy.
I like doing my laundry in a bucket.
I like absence of white noise caused by a nearby T.V. or radio.
I like being able to communicate at a reasonable volume and not having to scream over the mindnumbing techno beat that sounds just like the last 50 in some club designed to drown out reality.
I like not feeling judged for wearing comfortable and practical unisex cotton clothing.
I like the sound of footsteps.
I like showers.
I like being around people who speak of mindfulness and act accordingly. I like being able to look to those people for insipration and guidance.
I like being in a place where monetary wealth is not the measure of success in life.
I like that I lost my favorite scarf and I don't really care.
I like learning from my mistakes...and then recognizing that because I have learned from them that they are not mistakes but lessons.
I like realizing I am not limited to the things I thought I was.
I like getting the hang of something new which prevously made me feel helpless. This joy is a special gift reserved only for those people willing to try new things and make fools of themselves...the greater the fool, the greater the joy.
I like seeing people's faces and not a layer of makeup.
I like seeing man and wild animals living side by side.
I like seeing the swastika used in its original context: as an affirmation of the goodnes in life, as a symbol of the changing seasons and their ultimate oneness, as a representation of simultaneous motion and stillness.
I like being barefoot.
I like not having a mirror or clock around all the time.
I like not having hair. It's one less thing between my body and the world.
I like sitting quietly.
I like my in breath.
I like my out breath.
I like not having or needing money in my pocket.
I like being around people who encourage me to keep my Sila (the 5 precepts) and who don't make me feel bad for not wanting to put poison in my body and lose myself in unskillful actions.
I like recognizing that just because anger is present in my mind, doesn't mean I have to identify with it.
I like being grateful with no particular object of gratitude.
I like that she remembered after five years.
I like mosquito nets.
I like smiling and dancing with no perceivable reason to do either.
I like that I have enough friends and family where it is a pain in the ass to send them all postcards.
I like meeting people that don't want anything from me.
I like playing the guitar.
I like helping people that want my help.
I like that my family supports my travels and my progress along the path even though they don't totally get it all the time and they'd rather I go somewhere close like Canada, where they have drinkable water and don't have 3 million diseases.
I like knowing that the ability to be happy does not depend on external conditions or circumstances.
These are just a few...and there are many many more.
I recently spent a few days at the Vipassana Center in Galta, outside of Jaipur near the Monkey Temple (pictures on facebook). I had planned until very recently (so recently in fact, that the post cards and emails I sent out yesterday have the old schedule written on them) to move onto Agra today and then on into pilgrimage territory...but things have changed. I won't try to explain in too much depth other than to say that something inside me is telling me to stay. I don't know whether I started something I haven't finished or what, but I am staying for an 8 day course on the Mahasatipatthana Sutta (Discourse on the Great Establishing of Mindfulness, the text used most often in the teaching of Vipassana [insight/ looking deeply] meditation). It is strange as I don't particularly agree with Goenkaji's interpretation of much of the text and since I wasn't particularly impressed with the facility...but that is not really the point. I feel sicker when I think of leaving and healthier when I move back in the direction of the pagoda (an architectural symbol of the enlightened mind, which in this case conatins individual meditation cells and is supposed to strengthen the vibration of samadhi (concentration), looks like a stepped pyramid that comes to a point...a big stupa...its really hard to explain without a visual, look it up haha). It may just be the recognition that I am overwhelmed and need to be in a quiet place where people aren't trying to sell me things, a place where I can gain composure and stability before continuing on, a place of refuge...but I had my first really absorbed sit since being in India inside the pagoda and I feel like there is more work to be done here. It may be nothing but I don't think so, what is the point of looking deeply and exploring the body and mind if you are going to ignore what you find in the name of a schedule. I will have to do a litle reworking of the trip after I finish the course but oh well. There is no schedule so important that it trumps health, peace and happiness. I wanted to let everyone know so that when and if I go dark on the blog and email (I don't know whether I will get any signal in the students' quarters) that its not because I was attacked by a monkey or caught something more serious than the cold I've had since being sandwiched between those two Japanese tourists in the dorm bed at Pearl Palace. I will send Metta out in all directions and I could use some support if you can manage it...but remember, only send out Metta to others AFTER you have sent Metta to yourself...if you can't wish happiness for yourself, you are of no use to others.
"I know it would be outrageous
To come on all corageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I've got is sinking sand."
-David Gray
Create stability within yourself, create refuge where it cannot be stripped away by anyone. Then you can reach out to others. Be good and be well...We'll speak again soon.
Since there has been an overabundance of thoughts regarding things I dislike or that bother me, or things by which I am overwhelmed (as there are many of those in India when traveling alone), I have decided to make a list of some things that I like or am grateful for. These items came up either by their notable absence or presence, or by way of a memory here on my travels. I suggest you do the same if you are having trouble with negative mental states...you are welcome to note some "likes" down below in the commentary field if you so desire.
I like being healthy.
I like doing my laundry in a bucket.
I like absence of white noise caused by a nearby T.V. or radio.
I like being able to communicate at a reasonable volume and not having to scream over the mindnumbing techno beat that sounds just like the last 50 in some club designed to drown out reality.
I like not feeling judged for wearing comfortable and practical unisex cotton clothing.
I like the sound of footsteps.
I like showers.
I like being around people who speak of mindfulness and act accordingly. I like being able to look to those people for insipration and guidance.
I like being in a place where monetary wealth is not the measure of success in life.
I like that I lost my favorite scarf and I don't really care.
I like learning from my mistakes...and then recognizing that because I have learned from them that they are not mistakes but lessons.
I like realizing I am not limited to the things I thought I was.
I like getting the hang of something new which prevously made me feel helpless. This joy is a special gift reserved only for those people willing to try new things and make fools of themselves...the greater the fool, the greater the joy.
I like seeing people's faces and not a layer of makeup.
I like seeing man and wild animals living side by side.
I like seeing the swastika used in its original context: as an affirmation of the goodnes in life, as a symbol of the changing seasons and their ultimate oneness, as a representation of simultaneous motion and stillness.
I like being barefoot.
I like not having a mirror or clock around all the time.
I like not having hair. It's one less thing between my body and the world.
I like sitting quietly.
I like my in breath.
I like my out breath.
I like not having or needing money in my pocket.
I like being around people who encourage me to keep my Sila (the 5 precepts) and who don't make me feel bad for not wanting to put poison in my body and lose myself in unskillful actions.
I like recognizing that just because anger is present in my mind, doesn't mean I have to identify with it.
I like being grateful with no particular object of gratitude.
I like that she remembered after five years.
I like mosquito nets.
I like smiling and dancing with no perceivable reason to do either.
I like that I have enough friends and family where it is a pain in the ass to send them all postcards.
I like meeting people that don't want anything from me.
I like playing the guitar.
I like helping people that want my help.
I like that my family supports my travels and my progress along the path even though they don't totally get it all the time and they'd rather I go somewhere close like Canada, where they have drinkable water and don't have 3 million diseases.
I like knowing that the ability to be happy does not depend on external conditions or circumstances.
These are just a few...and there are many many more.
I recently spent a few days at the Vipassana Center in Galta, outside of Jaipur near the Monkey Temple (pictures on facebook). I had planned until very recently (so recently in fact, that the post cards and emails I sent out yesterday have the old schedule written on them) to move onto Agra today and then on into pilgrimage territory...but things have changed. I won't try to explain in too much depth other than to say that something inside me is telling me to stay. I don't know whether I started something I haven't finished or what, but I am staying for an 8 day course on the Mahasatipatthana Sutta (Discourse on the Great Establishing of Mindfulness, the text used most often in the teaching of Vipassana [insight/ looking deeply] meditation). It is strange as I don't particularly agree with Goenkaji's interpretation of much of the text and since I wasn't particularly impressed with the facility...but that is not really the point. I feel sicker when I think of leaving and healthier when I move back in the direction of the pagoda (an architectural symbol of the enlightened mind, which in this case conatins individual meditation cells and is supposed to strengthen the vibration of samadhi (concentration), looks like a stepped pyramid that comes to a point...a big stupa...its really hard to explain without a visual, look it up haha). It may just be the recognition that I am overwhelmed and need to be in a quiet place where people aren't trying to sell me things, a place where I can gain composure and stability before continuing on, a place of refuge...but I had my first really absorbed sit since being in India inside the pagoda and I feel like there is more work to be done here. It may be nothing but I don't think so, what is the point of looking deeply and exploring the body and mind if you are going to ignore what you find in the name of a schedule. I will have to do a litle reworking of the trip after I finish the course but oh well. There is no schedule so important that it trumps health, peace and happiness. I wanted to let everyone know so that when and if I go dark on the blog and email (I don't know whether I will get any signal in the students' quarters) that its not because I was attacked by a monkey or caught something more serious than the cold I've had since being sandwiched between those two Japanese tourists in the dorm bed at Pearl Palace. I will send Metta out in all directions and I could use some support if you can manage it...but remember, only send out Metta to others AFTER you have sent Metta to yourself...if you can't wish happiness for yourself, you are of no use to others.
"I know it would be outrageous
To come on all corageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I've got is sinking sand."
-David Gray
Create stability within yourself, create refuge where it cannot be stripped away by anyone. Then you can reach out to others. Be good and be well...We'll speak again soon.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Charlatan Gurus, a Rock Breaker and the Gods of Creation: Two Days in Pushkar
written 3-4/11/10...and then finished 8/11
Namaste,
So I am back in Jaipur now. I got back into the city yesterday in the late afternoon and stayed with the Singhs again since my stuff was there and it was already pretty late in the day and I had to get some things organized for today. Tomorrow afternoon I will be heading to the Vipassana Center Dhamma Thali in the town of Galta about 13 km away. I will run a few errands in the morning and then I was thinking about seeing a Baliwood (Bollywood? I don't know how far they go with the spelling) film here in town since Jaipur is apparently home to the third nicest movie theatre in the world and it shows the latest Indian hit four times daily. In any case, I am looking forward to being around meditation and quiet for a little bit. I am getting the hang of Jaipur...I can take the bus now, (though the bus is never for certain in that it sort of goes where it wants to...and it seems foreigners have the least weight in deciding that) and I know where to go to grab a tuk tuk, where to eat and how much things are supposed to cost...the walking pace necessary to avoid being pulled aside for the 100th time to be asked where I'm from, where I'm going, if I'd like to visit his brother's shop, cause he'll give me a great price...I'm getting a feel for how forcefully I have to say no for them to get that its really a NO...and I'm seeing how hard it is for me to say no to a lot of things. Honestly though, I'm sick of the traffic and the horns and the smog and bargaining and being grabbed constantly so I welcome Dhamma Thali and the nearby Monkey Village, which sounds very...well....monkey-full.
I realized that I don't particularly like doing bullet point lists of my days...it doesn't make me feel like there's any actual expression or sharing going on, at least not in any way that matters or that is attractive to me; so I'm not going to do it. I will mention events or people that are significant and/or relevant to the prevailing story line or my mental state or whatever, but I can't possibly talk about everyone I meet and everything I do while here...and the fact that some part of me was trying to take on that feat was driving me away from writing anything at all on here. The sheer number of ups and downs that I experienced emotionally, energetically and otherwise while in Pushkar would have made it near impossible to write an all-encompassing entry...so that's not gonna happen. So, there's a weight off my shoulders haha. For anyone who doesn't know, the medication I was taking was causing some damage and was the culprit behind my inability to sleep more than a few hours a night or eat without a great deal of discomfort...so I have stopped that as well...and now I can eat yummy Indian food all day...WooHoo!!
As for Pushkar...I would like to begin with a story. Some of you may already have heard it either because you read it somewhere or because I've told it to you (but other than Zaza, and maybe one or two others I don't think I've told it to anyone)...I tell it in my own way and I tell it because it is a story which helps me to be at ease with where I am in life and maybe it can do the same for you...I tell it because it is skillful to take a step back and adjust one's view when struggling with negative mental formations, old habit patterns and reactive tendencies...and I am struggling with all of these right now so hopefully it will help to write it and to share it. Since this story's reappearance in my counscious mind was brought about by an actual event and person, of whom I was able to take a photo, there will be a corresponding image up on facebook in the near future.
The Tale of the Stonemason
Once there was a lowly stonemason...or at least that is how he thought of himself at the beginning of this story. He worked day in and day out with chisel and hammer in his hands and with sweat on his brow. As he was walking to work one day he passed a large golden gate, glinting in the morning sun. He stopped, touched the gate with a caloused hand and looked inside to the mansion entrance, where he saw a rich merchant reclining and ordering servants about. "Oh how wonderful it must be to have that kind of money and live in such ease, that must be happiness," he thought to himself. "I wish I were that merchant."
And so he became the rich merchant, in fine robes and with a golden cup in his hand, and for a moment he was filled with pride and his chest swelled. He stood on two legs that had never felt stronger and his voice boomed with orders until...trumpets drowned out his voice and he saw palanquin bearers walking past his gate. They were transporting a magistrate, and it is customary for all people to bow to a government official when they pass. His servants ceased to listen to his orders and turned to prostrate toward the palanquin and he knew he would be expected to as well. The prideful merchant with great dismay slowly bent his head, got down on his knees and bowed to the official. While down on the ground he thought to himself, "If only I had that kind of power, then I would be happy. I wish I were that official."
And so he became the magistrate, being carried in his palanquin and wearing rings with official seals...everywhere he went, people bowed to him and kissed his hand and did as they were told. It was now midday and the it was boiling hot. No matter how many fans were directed at him, the official was sweating and uncomfortable. He looked through the thin cloth that was the roof of the vehicle and saw the burning orb of the sun directly overhead. He was upset that he could do nothing to change the sun's position and intensity, and he was envious of its heat and power. "This government position is meaningless. Writing a few laws and being bowed to is small potatos...but that is real power. All people everywhere depend on and respect the heat and the light of the sun. I wish I were the sun."
And so he became the sun, shining brightly and with great intensity. He dried out crops to demonstrate his enormous power..."This is the pinacle," he thought. In the midst of his shining and blazing, he noticed that the field below was now in the shade and the farmer could take a moments rest in the cool. A cloud had wandered in between the sun and the field and had blocked the light's path. "This cloud blocks out my light, it is greater than I am. I wish I were the cloud."
And so he became the cloud, with the power to block the light of the sun and give shade to the earth below. In the midst of giving shade, he felt himself moved by a powerful force...it was the northern wind and it blew him far from where he had been. "This wind moves me where it pleases and I can do nothing to stop it. I am powerless against it. I wish I were the wind that I may have power over the clouds."
And so he became the wind. He blew the leaves off of trees and guided the paths of the clouds and messed up the hair of the merchants and the officials and even took off a roof or two. He gusted and blew and danced about the earth until....Wham! He came up against a great mountain which would not bend to his will. He became a tornado and then a hurricane, but the great rock would not budge. "Oh, what stability! What strength! I would I were the mountain, that I may indifferent even to the great force that is the wind."
And so he became the mountain. And he was firm and solid and immovable and impervious to...and then he felt it...a rhythmic vibration...a chip chip chipping away at himself. And so he looked down and saw there the stonemason, with chisel and hammer and a knowing smile on his face.
And there was no more wishing.
Fin
I hope you enjoyed it. I had originally written quite a bit more after this story. This blog entry was delayed for quite a while due to its multiple deletions, first at a computer which lost its connection and then on my phone (which I will no longer be using for blog entries). I had written about the guru Maharaja Siva...who wanted to make me his follower/wanted to sell me an overpriced set of mala (hindu/buddhist rosary). There was the taking refuge in a small temple of Siva (personification of both the creative and destructive forces, and the closest thing I have to a patron saint in the Hindu tradition...may seem not to fit with Brahma being the god of creation, which was mentioned last time, but I don't actually think there is a conflict...will discuss another time if I am so inclined) after being invited in by the one holy man ( I use that term loosely) who didn't ask for anything from me and seemed far more concerned with his praying than my wallet. There was the denial of entry into the Temple of Visnu because my Israeli friend Lior and I are dirty westerners...for real, there was a sign: No Foreigners Allowed (I found out later on, we are considered dirty because we use toilet paper instead of water after going to the bathroom). Another thing to write on one of these days is the incredible parallel between the Jewish and Hindu (two traditions which, historically have no influence on one another until relatively recent times) obsession with segregation and distinguishing between (in what sometimes seems to be a completely arbitrary manner) sacred and profane, pure and impure. There was a good deal of shopping since Pushkar was really cheap and since everything jumped out at me as something my sisters would like...and I may have gotten a few things for myself...practical stuff mind you. And last but not least, I mentioned the rock-breaker who was the inspiration for the above story, or its telling in any case. I asked to take a picture for a few rupees. He shook no and so I thought he meant no picture...but it turns out he said the picture was fine, he just didn't want my money. It wasn't an issue of pride either...he was just an honest, quite serene young man, who had no interest in taking my money for something that took no effort on his part. He was the opposite of the vast majority of people I have met here...and he effected me in a meaningful way. He also brought to mind the Rock Biter from The Never Ending Story and the Rock Man from The Point...characters of wisdom and strength and silliness from my childhood...but I feel that that comes with the territory...if you have been around long enough, you realize there is nothing that lasts long enough to take seriously.
That is enough for now...Be good.
Namaste,
So I am back in Jaipur now. I got back into the city yesterday in the late afternoon and stayed with the Singhs again since my stuff was there and it was already pretty late in the day and I had to get some things organized for today. Tomorrow afternoon I will be heading to the Vipassana Center Dhamma Thali in the town of Galta about 13 km away. I will run a few errands in the morning and then I was thinking about seeing a Baliwood (Bollywood? I don't know how far they go with the spelling) film here in town since Jaipur is apparently home to the third nicest movie theatre in the world and it shows the latest Indian hit four times daily. In any case, I am looking forward to being around meditation and quiet for a little bit. I am getting the hang of Jaipur...I can take the bus now, (though the bus is never for certain in that it sort of goes where it wants to...and it seems foreigners have the least weight in deciding that) and I know where to go to grab a tuk tuk, where to eat and how much things are supposed to cost...the walking pace necessary to avoid being pulled aside for the 100th time to be asked where I'm from, where I'm going, if I'd like to visit his brother's shop, cause he'll give me a great price...I'm getting a feel for how forcefully I have to say no for them to get that its really a NO...and I'm seeing how hard it is for me to say no to a lot of things. Honestly though, I'm sick of the traffic and the horns and the smog and bargaining and being grabbed constantly so I welcome Dhamma Thali and the nearby Monkey Village, which sounds very...well....monkey-full.
I realized that I don't particularly like doing bullet point lists of my days...it doesn't make me feel like there's any actual expression or sharing going on, at least not in any way that matters or that is attractive to me; so I'm not going to do it. I will mention events or people that are significant and/or relevant to the prevailing story line or my mental state or whatever, but I can't possibly talk about everyone I meet and everything I do while here...and the fact that some part of me was trying to take on that feat was driving me away from writing anything at all on here. The sheer number of ups and downs that I experienced emotionally, energetically and otherwise while in Pushkar would have made it near impossible to write an all-encompassing entry...so that's not gonna happen. So, there's a weight off my shoulders haha. For anyone who doesn't know, the medication I was taking was causing some damage and was the culprit behind my inability to sleep more than a few hours a night or eat without a great deal of discomfort...so I have stopped that as well...and now I can eat yummy Indian food all day...WooHoo!!
As for Pushkar...I would like to begin with a story. Some of you may already have heard it either because you read it somewhere or because I've told it to you (but other than Zaza, and maybe one or two others I don't think I've told it to anyone)...I tell it in my own way and I tell it because it is a story which helps me to be at ease with where I am in life and maybe it can do the same for you...I tell it because it is skillful to take a step back and adjust one's view when struggling with negative mental formations, old habit patterns and reactive tendencies...and I am struggling with all of these right now so hopefully it will help to write it and to share it. Since this story's reappearance in my counscious mind was brought about by an actual event and person, of whom I was able to take a photo, there will be a corresponding image up on facebook in the near future.
The Tale of the Stonemason
Once there was a lowly stonemason...or at least that is how he thought of himself at the beginning of this story. He worked day in and day out with chisel and hammer in his hands and with sweat on his brow. As he was walking to work one day he passed a large golden gate, glinting in the morning sun. He stopped, touched the gate with a caloused hand and looked inside to the mansion entrance, where he saw a rich merchant reclining and ordering servants about. "Oh how wonderful it must be to have that kind of money and live in such ease, that must be happiness," he thought to himself. "I wish I were that merchant."
And so he became the rich merchant, in fine robes and with a golden cup in his hand, and for a moment he was filled with pride and his chest swelled. He stood on two legs that had never felt stronger and his voice boomed with orders until...trumpets drowned out his voice and he saw palanquin bearers walking past his gate. They were transporting a magistrate, and it is customary for all people to bow to a government official when they pass. His servants ceased to listen to his orders and turned to prostrate toward the palanquin and he knew he would be expected to as well. The prideful merchant with great dismay slowly bent his head, got down on his knees and bowed to the official. While down on the ground he thought to himself, "If only I had that kind of power, then I would be happy. I wish I were that official."
And so he became the magistrate, being carried in his palanquin and wearing rings with official seals...everywhere he went, people bowed to him and kissed his hand and did as they were told. It was now midday and the it was boiling hot. No matter how many fans were directed at him, the official was sweating and uncomfortable. He looked through the thin cloth that was the roof of the vehicle and saw the burning orb of the sun directly overhead. He was upset that he could do nothing to change the sun's position and intensity, and he was envious of its heat and power. "This government position is meaningless. Writing a few laws and being bowed to is small potatos...but that is real power. All people everywhere depend on and respect the heat and the light of the sun. I wish I were the sun."
And so he became the sun, shining brightly and with great intensity. He dried out crops to demonstrate his enormous power..."This is the pinacle," he thought. In the midst of his shining and blazing, he noticed that the field below was now in the shade and the farmer could take a moments rest in the cool. A cloud had wandered in between the sun and the field and had blocked the light's path. "This cloud blocks out my light, it is greater than I am. I wish I were the cloud."
And so he became the cloud, with the power to block the light of the sun and give shade to the earth below. In the midst of giving shade, he felt himself moved by a powerful force...it was the northern wind and it blew him far from where he had been. "This wind moves me where it pleases and I can do nothing to stop it. I am powerless against it. I wish I were the wind that I may have power over the clouds."
And so he became the wind. He blew the leaves off of trees and guided the paths of the clouds and messed up the hair of the merchants and the officials and even took off a roof or two. He gusted and blew and danced about the earth until....Wham! He came up against a great mountain which would not bend to his will. He became a tornado and then a hurricane, but the great rock would not budge. "Oh, what stability! What strength! I would I were the mountain, that I may indifferent even to the great force that is the wind."
And so he became the mountain. And he was firm and solid and immovable and impervious to...and then he felt it...a rhythmic vibration...a chip chip chipping away at himself. And so he looked down and saw there the stonemason, with chisel and hammer and a knowing smile on his face.
And there was no more wishing.
Fin
I hope you enjoyed it. I had originally written quite a bit more after this story. This blog entry was delayed for quite a while due to its multiple deletions, first at a computer which lost its connection and then on my phone (which I will no longer be using for blog entries). I had written about the guru Maharaja Siva...who wanted to make me his follower/wanted to sell me an overpriced set of mala (hindu/buddhist rosary). There was the taking refuge in a small temple of Siva (personification of both the creative and destructive forces, and the closest thing I have to a patron saint in the Hindu tradition...may seem not to fit with Brahma being the god of creation, which was mentioned last time, but I don't actually think there is a conflict...will discuss another time if I am so inclined) after being invited in by the one holy man ( I use that term loosely) who didn't ask for anything from me and seemed far more concerned with his praying than my wallet. There was the denial of entry into the Temple of Visnu because my Israeli friend Lior and I are dirty westerners...for real, there was a sign: No Foreigners Allowed (I found out later on, we are considered dirty because we use toilet paper instead of water after going to the bathroom). Another thing to write on one of these days is the incredible parallel between the Jewish and Hindu (two traditions which, historically have no influence on one another until relatively recent times) obsession with segregation and distinguishing between (in what sometimes seems to be a completely arbitrary manner) sacred and profane, pure and impure. There was a good deal of shopping since Pushkar was really cheap and since everything jumped out at me as something my sisters would like...and I may have gotten a few things for myself...practical stuff mind you. And last but not least, I mentioned the rock-breaker who was the inspiration for the above story, or its telling in any case. I asked to take a picture for a few rupees. He shook no and so I thought he meant no picture...but it turns out he said the picture was fine, he just didn't want my money. It wasn't an issue of pride either...he was just an honest, quite serene young man, who had no interest in taking my money for something that took no effort on his part. He was the opposite of the vast majority of people I have met here...and he effected me in a meaningful way. He also brought to mind the Rock Biter from The Never Ending Story and the Rock Man from The Point...characters of wisdom and strength and silliness from my childhood...but I feel that that comes with the territory...if you have been around long enough, you realize there is nothing that lasts long enough to take seriously.
That is enough for now...Be good.
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