Punk Monk Meditation

A while back, I listened to an interview with Fleet Maull where he talks about "plunge experiences." One of the plunge experiences he was talking about was something called a "Street Retreat," in which the practitioner goes on retreat as a homeless person on the streets of a big city. These Street Retreats are put on by Bernie Glassman and the Zen Peacemakers. They also lead a retreat in Auschwitz where they sit by the train tracks and help heal the land of it's violent past.

I must admit, the street retreat didn't sound so tempting. But, I did my mini-version for an hour or two today. i shaved into the crazy mohawk ensemble you see in the picture, put on an army style jacket, and then did my walking meditation through Golden Gate Park and Ocean Beach. I can't say I really learned much from the experience, though it's always interesting to notice how much our physical appearance affects our self-image as well as the image others hold of us. I hope I didn't scare anyone.

I saw one man picking up bottles for recycling and eating some crumbs from someone's thrown out bag of chips. I felt a little twinge of sadness that for me it's just an "experiment," but for someone else it may be a world beyond their design.

Coming back, I decided to look into this Punk Monk thing more and found the website of San Francisco's official Punk Monk - an episcopal friar! Cool.

There's also a group called the Dharma Punx. Although it looks cool, I don't know much about it. There was one guy at a retreat up in North Fork who was part of the Dharma Punx who had a "Meditate and Destroy" sweatshirt on during the retreat. Arggg! Rar! yeah.

Don't worry, though. I shaved it all off after my little experiment, and now I'm just an ordinary bald guy - ready for my trip to the Monastery in a couple weeks.

Such vanity from nothing
But a spirit; a hungry ghost who feeds upon our sighs, swallows up the echo of our wailing days – we, whose withered hearts grow plaintive, now wandering as a flock of birds.
- The Punk Monk

Spirit Rock, Abhayagiri, and California Living

I've been back in the US for a few days now, but it seems like I've already done a lot! I visited with family and friends, and saw a lot of the ol' hometown sights around the Bay Area. I took a nice hike out to the ocean with my dad too. The beard has been quite a centerpiece of conversation, but it's days are numbered (my friend Whit has some clippers here in SF)

So, as the wheels of time turn, opportunities are opening up in front of me once again. I'm still leaving my plans very open-ended, with an eye toward what will continue to deepen this process of unfolding that's going on within me. But, I also would like to check out some of the great practice spots here in California - since I'm here. Someone asked if I had "wanderlust," as I seem to be moving around a lot. Actually, I'd prefer to stay settled for maybe 6 months or a year or two. At the risk of sounding overly practical, what I'm really looking for is a place where I can get the most meditation for the longest amount of time at the lowest cost - simple economics. I thought that having good instruction and teachings would be important, but after the last few months, I realize that it's not totally essential for me, though definitely welcome. Quiet solitude is pretty essential though.

Well, I went by Spirit Rock this morning and saw the grounds, and even said "Hi" to Jack Kornfield (he said "Hi" back, and then went on his way). They have a stipend residential work position open that looks tempting, and I'll probably put in my resume just to see if I get a nibble. Spirit Rock is absolutely stunning! It's probably about as big as the Sattal Ashram, with excellent quiet nature, but less Indian tourists and chaos. Plus, it's actually used solely for Dharma practice (as the Sattal ashram was not). Definitely a 5 star retreat center, and it would be a beautiful place to live! Almost too beautiful!

Also, I ran into a Dharma friend who I've been corresponding with who is heading up to Abhayagiri monastery in Northern California in a couple weeks. I've been wanting to get up there as I've had a number of friends tell me about it now. But, I didn't know how I'd find a ride. F-A-T-E... wouldn't you know it? I get offered for a ride as soon as I ask. It's like magic. Since it's a monastery, I suppose there's always the off chance that I'll shave my head and won't come out. But, at any rate, it will be a wonderful opportunity.

I also would like to get down to Wat Metta in Southern California, and the new Goenka center near Sebastapol, and of course back to the North Fork Center to see the pagoda that's being built there too! There's a lot of Dharma in this region of the world, too much to even list it all here. Karma is good to me!

In addition, I'll be emptying my storage unit soon, so this all should keep me busy for a little while.

People are telling me that I seem pretty much like the same Daniel. I don't really feel the same (and as a wonderful monk in Korea once told me: "not a moment goes by that the mountain doesn't change.") But, I think I get the sentiment.

- Still Daniel

Bangkok, Babaji, and Bob Dylan

Well, I wasn't going to write anymore before I left, but I'm back in the internet cafe listening to Bob Dylan on youtube.

I guess my beard must be getting LONG because random people around town are calling me Babaji. It's so funny how the tourist crowd of Khao San Road, Thailand is so different from Rishikesh, India. In Rishikesh, I think I was a little bit clean cut for the hippie crowd there. And, now I feel like a weird hippie surrounded with all these college kids and their 75 cent beers.

The Red Shirt protests have apparently settled a little bit after 38 people have died. But, it should be safe to get out of here tomorrow. One thing seems sure (from talking with the locals) no one seems to like fighting. Yet, we humans seem to do it anyway! Oh, what silly monkeys we are.

Here are some Bob Dylan lyrics:

And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son ?
And what'll you do now my darling young one ?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my songs well before I start singin'

- Bob Dylan, Hard Rain

Travel Update: Bangkok Burning!

I'm in Bangkok for two days, and wouldn't you know it, but there is civil unrest in the city! I didn't even know until I saw many of the Thai people glued to the TV watching the most recent developments. Luckily, flights are still coming in and out of the town, although schools and government offices have been closed down today.

Doing a little research, apparently the "Red Shirts" are a political group claiming that the Thai democracy is not a democracy at all, but suffers from interference from the military and the royalty. So, they have shut down the city.

Also, on the Thai news front, I've spoken with a couple of shopkeepers here who say that business has not been good lately - not many tourists! Perhaps it's the global economy, or I suspect perhaps they may have also overdeveloped their Bangkok tourist area. In the seven years since I was last here, they have built up a lot of the Khao San Rd. area.

The guy next to me in the internet cafe is speaking on Skype in Italian - now that's a beautiful language!

So, this is life in Thailand... and so so chill! What a nice relaxing break from India. I've already eaten a young coconut, jackfruit, Pad Thai, and Khao San Banana Pancakes! Yum!

I do want to take a second to share my love of India before I close that chapter. What an insane and adventurous ride that was - sometimes literally - My trip ended with a race to the airport in an auto rickshaw going 50 mph down the highway with no seat-belt, and not even a door between me and the asphalt! India definitely didn't fail to challenge me, and kept me on my toes. I learned new lessons about what is really necessary in terms of comfort in life, and what can be done without. And, I got great joy really appreciating that all of us... Americans, Hindus, Sikhs, Tibetans, Nepali, etc. - we're all cut from the same cloth so to speak. It's one human impulse moving through us all. Be well, India.

Soon, I'll be back in California. If you are a Californian reading this and you want to meet up before my next adventure, let me know, as I really don't know how long I'll be around.

May these people here in Bangkok come to some peace and some progress in service of the Thai people.

Sattal Retreat with OpenDharma.org

"Welcome to heaven... at least... looks like heaven to me." These were the first words from Ajay Singh, one of three instructors, at the start of my 40 day retreat.

It was the opening talk. We were cozily situated in the stunning hill-top chapel at Sattal Christian Ashram. Mattresses were strewn across the floor so that each person could sit or lie down as ever they found most comfortable. Many were already lying down (including myself) and already deeply content. A soft breeze passed through the spacious windows which opened out to views of lush forest and green mountains. A large but simple wooden cross stood behind the three instructors, and only added to the peace and beauty of the space. With forty days ahead of us, there was a feeling of having all the time in the world. And in between the words, the only sound which could be heard was the gentle songs of the local birds - like a welcoming chorus from our hosts.

Yes, it looks like Heaven to me too!

The other two instructors were Jaya and Jess, and each brought a different face to the Dharma. I'm sure I can't do them justice, but I'll still attempt a short description.

Ajay comes from Lucknow, India. His joy is incredibly infectious, and there is nothing more fun than watching him break into a fit of laughter so strong that his eyes begin to water and he can no longer speak. His teachings are simple, and his favorite way to teach seems to be in translating some of his most loved Hindu texts for us. For the first 10 days, he read from Kabir, and for the last 30 days he read from the Yoga Vashishta.

Jaya comes from North Carolina, but calls home to both India and Spain. Her two year old son may have also been called a teacher as his presence brought a certain innocence to the retreat. What I remember most about Jaya is that on two random occasions I happened to make eye contact with her. Both occasions were of the nature that they could've been on of those awkward retreat moments where you end up communicating, but not sure if you're supposed to communicate, but not really sure what you're communicating, and not sure why you're even looking anyway. But, no. Instead, it happened in those moments that I was smiling, and so was she. And, it was just the most natural meeting of smiles and meeting of eyes that seemed to have a flavor of knowing to it - like what was expressed in the moment was just known very deeply without words. Or then again, maybe it was just a smile.

Jess comes from Australia and she brought a lot of enthusiasm to the retreat. I spoke with her in a couple of personal interviews and felt the warm support of a good friend. She also gave a radiant and brilliantly alive discourse on women, the feminine, tantra, and spirituality which led to some pretty wild dreams for me that night!

None of the teachers were Christian, of course, so the Jesus paraphernalia of the ashram brought it's own energy as well. In fact, on Day 15, we were asked to move out of the chapel and into a small barn to continue our questionable non-sectarian practices.

The schedule was pretty relaxed for the first ten days, and even more relaxed for the thirty after that. For me, it involved a lot of lying around. Also, occasional events were organized like a group walk through the hills, or singing in the hall every few nights. It was like my dream summer camp: A beautiful swimming lake, hiking, lying around, listening to good Dharma, and best of all - no talking!

There were also three meals a day provided of delicious Indian food.

The encouragement to meditate in the lying posture is somewhat unique to Open Dharma and what a treat! I can't say that it ever led to "Sloth, Torpor, and Laziness" as the strict Buddhists would claim. Too bad for them.

The ashram itself is on 340 acres of land and includes access to two lakes, one of which I swam in every other day. The other lake we took a boat ride on, on day 38. There were both brown and grey monkeys, dozens of birds (including parrots, eagles, and something that looked like Toucan Sam meets Woody the Woodpecker!) and even leopards, though no leopards were spotted by any of the retreatants. The huts were comfortable and reminiscent of an old Austrian monastery with stone and concrete walls and aging wooden furniture.

Living forty days with a group of people without talking can be quite an intense and also intimate experience. I felt a deep connection with everyone there even if I didn't say anything to them. In fact, I think the crowd was one of the most enjoyable of any retreat I've done so far - perhaps because of the level of commitment it takes to travel to India and spend 40 days of your life in silence.

I'm not sure if they will be doing this retreat again (given the situation with the chapel) but if so, I hope I can attend.

As always, I've posted my photos from Sattal in my Picasa album, but for more photos, you can see the album of my friend Dave (another American) who has also posted his photos online (some are shown here.)

Goenka's Dehra Dun Vipassana Center

I almost punched a monk. Well, not really, but the thought did cross my mind.

If you've been reading this far, you may notice that India and I have had our differences. And, maybe I've been a little hard on Mother India at times. So, without the harshness (and without punching anyone) I'll take this opportunity to celebrate the differences before I leave tomorrow.

I'll start by commending the tolerant meditators who patiently waited in line for every meal. This is the first and only time I've actually seen people stand in line in India. Beautiful! The only two men who cut in line were the two Hindu Sadhus (monks). I understand that probably there is some tradition behind this behavior, but I wondered why a monk wouldn't want to wait like us common folk. Do they have a busy schedule to attend to?

The dish washing station, however, was typical Indian chaos and this is where the fateful run-in went down. Being the irreverent westerner that I am, I was practicing non-cooperation with the pushing and crowding at the dish station (ala Ghandi's Satiyagraha). Instead, I decided to calmly wait for an opening to appear. The monk wasn't having it, though, and finding my presence to be quite an obstruction, he broke the rule of "no physical contact at the center" to push me aside and jump on the next available sink. I will admit, I got angry, but that's just par for the course.

To quickly contrast with California, people there have been known to freak out even if they see people shaking hands or (god forbid) hugging at the center! In fact, on the last day of this retreat some of the younger Indian men gave each other so much physical contact that it would appear to most Westerners as quite sexual.

My first impression of center (officially named Dhamma Salila) was that of a labor camp. Rules were posted quite prominently, the assistant teacher was commanding with his instructions, and the bells were rung loudly. It looked quite oppressive and not in line with a path of compassion and wisdom. So, for the first two days I contemplated an escape. But, eventually I came to realize that no one would follow the rules well anyway and it was mostly just a show. My observation is that Indian's firstly are so saturated with spirituality already, and secondly they tend toward a sheep and shepherd mentality with their "guru," so this may explain the extra hoo-haa about discipline.

To add to the chaos, there was a group of young men attending who weren't really there of their own free will. The Suriya Foundation (manufacturers of light bulbs, etc.) apparently includes a Goenka course as a mandatory part of their job training program - No course, no job! This bathc of trainees had all recently completed graduate degrees and were in training for management positions. Their three month, 24 hour per day training program also included a seven day naturopathy fast! Once trained and secure in their job, these bachelors would then e ready to settle into an arranged marriage. It all seemed like a Eastern version of the 1950's American dream.

There were almost 30 of them and none seemed to have gotten much from the course. A few, at least, said that they might want to come back some day on their own to really give it a fair trial.

There was, thus, a large range in the level of seriousness of the students. At the end, people came to tell me, "you were 100% committed. I only gave maybe 70-80%," and other such comments. Who knew there was a ranking system? I actually was pretty disciplined, except with regards to lying down and sleeping. These two activities seem to help my meditation a lot.

Dhamma Salila was much smaller than the California Vipassana Center, but the California one is known as one of the largest and most comfy. In Dehra Dun, they do have the addition of a pagoda, and this got me excited. It's a building with many small (3ft. X 6ft.) cells for isolated meditation.

My cell in the pagoda faced in on the center cell which (I dare say) had a creepy resemblence to a peep show somehwere in San Francisco. The middle cell of the entire circular complex had a white thrown where I image only teachers are allowed to sit. I didn't have to put quarters in to see, though, I just looked through the small metal grated vent at the bottom of the door separating our two cells. Other than this, I found it to be quite a tranquil place, perhaps like a holding cell on the spaceship of some advanced alien race. It was painted white with a small dome at the top where light would shine in. The best time for the pagoda was about 4:30am-5:30am when it was pitch black, and very queit.

The food was good too, and rumored to be better than other Indian centers.

I couldn't imagine if this had been my first Goenka course. I think the Indian idosyncracies would have broken me. And, I don't know if I'll do another Goenka retreat in India.

Overall, the experience was just beautiful. Dhamma Salila is on the bank of a small river (which you must wade through on your way out,) and there are a number of mango trees and a tall banyan tree on the property. They run the courses on about $3 per person per day which is impressive. And, I should say that I met some incredibly friendly and delightful people - despite the cultural differences and the repetitive "What's your name? Where are you from? What do you do for a living?" May they all grow in Dhamma.

Bhavatu Sabba Mangalam. Be happy.

Cushion Report: Fifty Days of Wu Wei

I like this word "wu wei." It's from the Chinese and is translated as non-doing, non-action, or non-interference. Maybe I like it because it reminds me of when I was about 21 and I fell in love with the Tao Te Ching. I still think if I had to be stuck on an island with only one book, I might choose that one.

The Master does nothing,
yet nothing is left undone.
A foolish man is always doing,
Yet much remains to be done.

- Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching (38)

As this story unfolds, you may see the significance of this concept, but let's start at the start. I didn't journal everyday, but rather every 5 days for the first 40 days and not at all while on the Goenka retreat (as per Goenka's rules.) So, this will be quite a condensed version of the vast lifetime of experience that occurs in 50+ days.

Day 0: By great fortune, the retreat began for me almost instantly upon my arrival, and by that I mean the inner process began. Within a few hours of just being on the gorgeous property, I found myself in deep surrender. I willingly gave up all expectations for the next 40 days and decided to just let whatever happens be whatever happens. It was like there wasn't a single drop of desire in me that could have imposed my will on the next 40 days. Or put another way, it was like looking at the trees, and the mountains and saying "I'm yours!" Thus, the retreat was underway.

Day 5: "Experience. Everything is experience. No control, no forcing, letting go. Layer after layer. At times wild ride, at times quite plain. Just being, just sitting, just walking."

I had an image of those folks you hear about in the cornfields of the mid-west who form welcoming crews for the aliens. I was the welcoming crew, except not for aliens but for the inner experience of Truth.

Day 10: "Lots of 'dream work.' The dream-life boundary not so strong. Powerful dreams, lucid dreams, deep states of knowing consciousness. Still enjoying myself."

The crisp immediate presence with moment-to-moment experience would come and go. My slogan became: "Don't force it." (Thanks Damian!) and with that I was experience a lot of ease.

Day 10 was a transition day because some people only came for 10 days and some people were arriving for the next 30. This turbulence proved to be the start of a new chapter in the retreat.

Day 15: "Long five days - seems like long time since I last wrote... just kinda walking around, eating, etc. Same 'ol same 'ol. Thinking a lot too... Mind/thought/figuring out, etc. is becoming more and more obvious of it's uselessness. Like unemployed mind - going out of business. More and more just being with direct experience.
'But it doesn't make sense' <-- exactly!
Not much "makes sense" to my mind over the last few days, but I'm just kinda going with it... Feels like waking up, but can't say that I totally enjoy it. I'm still really liking this idea: "slowly and quietly, just going about my day, going about the practice." No frills - simplicity - the simplest thing - Life."

The quote above "slowly and quietly..." was from an observation Christopher Titmuss made about the monks and nuns who seemed to make the most progress while he was in the monastery.

At this point, I wasn't really going on any "meditation instructions" so to speak. My practice basically looked like how I described it above, that simple.

Day 20: "Too much to write. Days 10-18 were tough - got in some mind loops... More trust in experience - less dependence on mental constructs... only 3 weeks left. he he..."

This trust comment in my journal is significant. Much of the retreat (and even my daily practice now) seems to be around learning to trust the actuality of my being rather than the self I think of myself as through mental images. A quick digression here...

Reading A.H. Almaas, it seems that ego psychology now posits that one reason we may have such a large brain which creates mental constructs, self-other images, and ultimately an ego, may be for the survival of the infant. That is to say that for an infant to be separated from his/her mother might be quite difficult to bear, but if the child has an image of "mother" in mind then no loss is detected.

The individual, that is the self-image, is supported psychically by the presence of the mother's image; thus the child does not feel alone when physically separate from the mother. He feels supported by the presence of the mother's image, which gives him the sense of security which allows him to be away from her, and makes it safer to regard her as an autonomous person.
- A.H. Almaas, The Pearl Beyond Price

The only problem is that this sense of security is based on an image and thus either one will always live life as an image or approximation of themselves, or this deeper insecurity must be addressed.

So, that's my digression, for which you can forgive me if it was overly-intellectual and wordy. In reality, I really was just kinda walking around, sitting, eating, and lying in bed.

"Day 25:
Sublime
Being as is. Listening inside.
I'm starting to hear myself.
She's calling me home.
"Trust," she says.
Trust.
Everyday, the mind game grows weaker.
I know the way.
Just Be. Just Be. Just Be."

Seeing as how my journal entry is a poem, and how I refer to myself in the feminine, it may be self-explanatory that I was near the peak of my trippiness for this retreat. (And, it's not without a small amount of shyness that I reprint my poem here.)

Perhaps it's a good time to mention that there was a very feminine quality to my Open Dharma retreat. Perhaps due to the nature of the retreat and the instructors (which hopefully I can write about later.) My relationship with the feminine in me grew significantly. I'll also briefly mention that when I got to the Goenka retreat (the last 10 days), I noticed some movement back toward the masculine. But, this whole masculine-feminine topic is way too much to get into now.

Day 30: "It feels like the retreat just started. Day 26-29 were a bit rough and stormy. Today, I'm taking rest. Day off. Recuperate. A lot of stuff has happened, but none of it seems like such a big deal. Right now, I'm fantasizing about living in a Japanese Monastery... still here. Not doing much... I love just being. Loving wu wei. Loving love. Still such DEEP longings. Belly longings. So many wants/So many dreams and Desires."

Worth noting in this journal entry is the word "rest." Throughout the 40 days, I became much more proficient at resting, and I'm continuing the practice even today. At times, it's quite difficult.

Day 35: "35 days!... Heaven here. Saw a snake today, and the waterfall. Too hard to explain how this has all unfolded. What do I usually say to this journal?
Nothing Special?
Living my life - ups and downs.
Coming to know myself more and more.
Loving meditation, and realizing more that "being" is meditation is presence is my nature... so really loving meditation is loving myself, loving the truth of my being.
Some shitty days have come and gone. It's hard to say I'm "progressing," as life still feels quite ordinary. But, I am coming to know myself and to know the images which have played the role of "myself" for quite some time. Funny, I'm also realizing how this path really leads nowhere. Like, there's really nothing in it for me. The meaning of Life is Life itself (not me, he he...) Looks like a lot of work still ahead of me."

Day 40: "Wow... uh... what? That was forty days? ummm... huh? *Time*..?
I just talked with Ajay. I said it seems like both:
- I've arrived! I'm here!
- AND... keep going!
He said: "Yes, keep flying with both the feathers."
It's a weird feeling. Doesn't feel particularly special in any way - just feels "ok"... I'm leaving tomorrow, but so far, even "leaving" doesn't feel like "leaving." It just feels like change - more life.
... The silence is a little unnerving. And in fact, it makes sense why I spend my life trying to fill the silence - because there's really nothing there. There's really nothing when the noise fades away. Just Being. And, then, when the time is right, things come. And then they go. And that's just life. Just here. That's all."

And with that my 40 day retreat ended, but I saw no reason to stop there. I got on an overnight train to Dehra Dun and started a ten-day Goenka retreat the next day.

Days 42-44 (Day 0-2 for Goenka):
I didn't like the center much at all when I arrived. (I hope to write about it in another post. Mostly the issue was body pain.) And, I spent the first 2 days considering a run for the exit. I decided that I would leave on one and only one condition: kindness toward myself. No other excuse could make me budge, but if the strict ascetic discipline of the Goenka center even for one moment required me to compromise my own self-kindness, I would've left.

Happily, however, I learned by day 45 (day 3) that the harshness was mostly in appearance only. And by day 3, I was able to settle into , my own rhythm which, though still strict, was sufficiently loving for the needs of my mind and body.

Due to the extra restrictions of Goenka's courses, I had a more intense experience there than in Sattal. I found myself entering some rather altered states and to be honest, I don't even remember day 3-7 (day 45-49).

By around Day 50 (Day 8), thoughts of the outside world started to come in... checking email, blogging, etc. and I slowly transitioned to the end (Day 11/54)

No notes for my Goenka retreat, but it continued along the same threads. I did my best to follow Goenka's technique (observing bodily sensations), while still staying true to my maxim: "Don't force it." (thanks Damian). Mostly, I stayed within the peculiarities of his technique but had quite an interesting experience perhaps around Day 5 (day 47):
Quite spontaneously, my mind started meditating according to another technique from another tradition (Mahasi-style noting). I actually made an attempt to stop it as I wanted to stay in the spirit of "when in Goenkaland, do as the Goenkans." To my surprise, I was unable to stop it, and instead I surrendered to it and found myself having quite a profound meditative experience. But, this did beg the question: "Who's doing the meditating here?" Since it was occurring against my will, who's will was it?

This inquiry is still unfolding for me now in my daily practice, and I think it will continue to unfold as well.

At any rate, I've tried to give a fairly honest and open account here of my experience, but of course, it can only be partial. May it be of some value.

I'll defer to Ghandi to give this last point a better treatment:

I find myself confronted with a fresh problem. What things to mention and what to omit... If things that are relevant are omitted, truth will be dimmed. And it is difficult to decide straightaway what is relevant, when I am not even sure about the relevancy of writing this story... I know that I do not set down in this story all that I remember. Who can say how much I must give and how much omit in the interest of truth? And what would be the value in a court of law of the inadequate ex parte evidence being tendered by me of certain events of my life?...

I, therefore, wonder for a moment whether it might not be proper to stop writing... But so long as there is no prohibition from the voice within, I must continue writing.

- Ghandi, from his autobiography

Sadhu, Sadhu, Sadhu
Well said, Ghandi. Well said.

Ghandi Writes About Rishikesh...

"I was charmed with the natural scenery about Hrishikesh and the Lakshman Jhula, and bowed my head in reverence to our ancestors for their sense of the beautiful in Nature and for their foresight in investing beautiful manifestations of Nature with a religious significance.

But, the way in which men were using their beauty spots was far from giving me peace... people dirtied the roads and the fair banks of the Ganges. They did not even hesitate to desecrate the sacred water of the Ganges. It filled me with agony to see people performing natural functions on the thoroughfares and riverbanks, when they could easily have gone a little farther away from public haunts. Lakshman Jhula was, I saw, nothing but an iron suspension bridge over the Ganges... the iron bridge is entirely out of place in such surroundings and mars their beauty.

The Svargashram which one reaches after crossing the bridge was a wretched place, being nothing but a number of shabby-looking sheds of galvanized iron sheets... [The aspirants] who were in the main building gave one an unfavorable impression."
- Ghandi, 1915

I went to the Ganga View Cafe again for breakfast this morning, and no joke - the same guy, the same discourse about Shiva's urine! (This time for a different woman, who sounded maybe to be Israeli or perhaps European.)

I think Ghandi did this town justice with his description, but if only he could see it now in this age of plastic! Yikes! The photo above is of one of the unofficial riverside dumps.

Travel Update: Getting Out of Here!

"Drink it! Just drink it!" the young American with dreadlocks exclaims with great enthusiasm. He is sharing his wisdom with a young European woman over breakfast at the Ganga View Cafe, Rishikesh. What's he talking about? Urine, of course!

"Shiva gave a discourse to OUR BODIES," he continues. "Shiva... GOD... is talking to OUR BODIES... telling us that this is very secret knowledge... it's like a magical elixir... our bodies make a MAGICAL ELIXIR!" The discussion continues for a good ten minutes as he expounds on all the wonderful benefits of drinking your own urine and how secret and magical this knowledge is, until finally the honest question is posed to him: "Do you do it?"
"No... 'cause I smoke."
"Why is that?" the innocent European woman responds...
"Smoking's got all sorts of poisons. Otherwise, I'd drink it everyday!" He answers.

Welcome to Rishikesh. I won't even try to argue the logical insanity of his discourse, but I'll leave it for you all to muse over.

I leave the cafe, and while passing by the numerous cows who graze in the streets and alleyways, I come to the jeep station. Here, jeeps cram full of Hindu families to take them up into the mountains to visit some holy Hindu sight (forgive me for not knowing which one.) As the jeeps speed off, there is often one or two older women in the back vomiting or preparing to vomit from motion sickness - the price paid for a trip for God. No one seems to care.

I keep walking, and I see a woman in tears, blood running from her nose, holding a baby in her left arm. The blood is gushing too, not just a couple drops. Her husband holds the other baby in his arm and makes weak attempts to cheer her up - so weak that I suspect perhaps he has played some role in causing this bloody nose. But, that's just speculation. Whatever is going on... again, no one seems to care.

Welcome, again, to Rishikesh. And, this is one of the nicer towns in India! It's actually quite pretty to look out over the Ganges, through the swarms of flies, or walk across the pedestrian bridges. It's probably about 100 degrees in the daytime here, which adds to the pungent rotting fumes in the alleyways.

The good news - I'm getting out of here! Not to say that Rishikesh doesn't have some charm. The Beatles Ashram is pretty cool, and there are some nice tourist conveniences like Italian restaurants and German bakeries. And, it's not to say that the challenge of India really confronts one's concepts of the way things "should" be. But, I'm gladly accepting that it's time to move on.

I was planning to stay in India until the end of my visa in June, but given the circumstances with my grandfather, I will be heading back to the US in a few days.

Ghandi has this to say:

I have found by experience that man makes his plans to be often upset by God, but, at the same time, where the ultimate goal is the search of truth, no matter how a man's plans are frustrated, the issue is never injurious and often better than expected.
- M.K. Ghandi

So, here are my tentative travel plans:
- Rishikesh to Delhi May 16th
- Delhi to Bangkok overnight May 16-17
- Bangkok for two days (oh, curry and mangoes!)
- Bangkok to San Francisco May 19
- San Francisco to Berlin, Massachusetts (And return to SF) May 28 - May 31

After that, the door is open for God to frustrate me further, though of course, my plan is to continue to pursue my meditation practice as priority number one.

For My Grandfather

As I stood in the bookstore, holding "The Devotional Poems of Mirabai," I flipped through another couple pages when my eyes landed on this poem:

Whatever thou seest twixt earth and sky
Will perish.
...
Take no pride in the body,
It will soon be mingling with the dust.
This life is like the sporting of sparrows,
It will end with the onset of night.

- Mirabai

It seems that Mirabai was singing to me again. Earlier that day, I had discovered that on May 5th, my grandfather Russell Hawkins passed away. He reached the impressive age of 95, and was well loved. I feel grateful for having him in my life.

So, Grandfather, I chose another Mirabai verse to share with you now. Please enjoy...

Go to that impenetrable realm

That Death himself trembles to look upon.

There plays the fountain of love

With swans sporting on its waters.

- Mirabai

My family has organized a gathering in memorial of my grandfather and also in honor of the passing of his generation on my mom's side of the family. Many friends and family will attend, and yes... so will I. In 9 days, I will be on an airplane back to the US!

More on my travel plans soon, but for now:

"Annica!" (things change)

With Love,

Daniel

Mirabai Sings For Me

I started this journey with a longing for simplicity: sit, breathe, and be present from moment to moment throughout the day. I really wasn't looking to replace the clutter of busy San Francisco life with the clutter of India's spiritual scene - more gurus, more techniques, more fast tracks to Enlightenment. In fact, I was a little resistant to come to India for this reason, and I was admittedly resistant to the world of Hinduism, Babas, and Swamis.

I walked into the English language bookstore yesterday near the Lakshman Jula Bridge, and after a couple of minutes of just looking at all the books, I thought to myself: "Wow, human beings really like to write stuff!" - more gurus, more catchy titles, more books books books. What was I doing here?

Well, a certain Hindu saint has been helping to melt my hardened resistance, and her name is Mirabai. She was part of the Bhakti (devotional) renaissance of India in the 15th and 16th centuries. I found a book of her poems in the corner of the store and soon discovered why I was in the bookstore.

I read the following poem and thought that it was the perfect description of the last couple months of my life (although maybe exaggerated a bit with poetic license). She has saved me the trouble of finding words and now she sings to me...

O ye saints and holy men,
I have seen the world and it's ways
I left brothers and relatives
And all I possessed.
Dispensing with worldly shame,
I came to sit with the holy men.
I felt joy in the company of the devotees,
On beholding the world I wept.
I planted the creeper of love
And watered it with my tears.
I churned the curds
And drew forth the ghee:
The butter-milk I rejected.
The King sent me a cup of poison,
I drank it down with joy.
Mira's love has set in deeply,
She accepts whatever comes.

I must give credit to Open Dharma for softening me to the joy of a truly "open" dharma. During the 40 day Sat Tal retreat, they read from Mirabai, Khabir, the Yoga Vashisht, as well as many other non-Indian saints and sages. I'm now enjoying all the diversity of these teachers as music against the backdrop of a still present simplicity.

I'll quickly give some of the meaning of this poem for me, even though I could just let the meaning stand on it's own for you. Here goes...

"ye saints and holy men" - All of you out there reading this
"I left relatives" - yup
"I came to sit with the holy men." - Wonderful teachers I've been blessed to meet so far!
"the company of the devotees," - oh, such lovely friends too!
"On beholding the world I wept." - Free Tibet!
"watered it with my tears." - Not many tears on this recent retreat (except maybe day 29)
"I churned the curds" - Meditation
"the ghee" - Wisdom
"The butter-milk" - The more-than-enoughness of life.
"The King sent me a cup of poison," - The 'gifts' of the world, like stepping in cow shit or the smell of burning plastic.
"I drank it down with joy." - Oh, India!
"Mira's love has set in deeply," - Post-retreat bliss
"She accepts whatever comes." - Oh, India!

And, coincidentally, right now, in the internet cafe, they are playing a really funny song that the teachers decided to play at the completion of the 40 day retreat, the lyrics shout out enthusiastically: All Izz Well!
Here it is, enjoy~

The Beard is Back!

After fifty days of silence, I'm sitting here now and I find myself... speechless.

I'm back in Rishikesh where I plan to relax back into the "real world" for a few days, with no plans yet after that.

Being in Rishikesh and looking at the funny photo of my beard, I'm suspecting that this must be the "White Album" phase of my life (ala the hefty beard John Lennon wore after his time in Rishikesh) No album yet, though. In fact, just thinking of what to write here now seems like a lot. I will probably have more to say soon.

I did the 40-day retreat in Sattal, and went straight into a 10-day Goenka retreat that started the next day in Dehra Dun; To say that my retreat time was "wonderful" would be an understatement. mmm....

More soon.

All is well. Be Happy!