It's time to go back to India tomorrow and it always amazes me how the mind works. Since we are always on the go and our lives are constantly changing, I have been accustomed to my mind playing tricks on me. I go back and forth between being excited for the change and dreading the change. Today, I have waken up to yet another beautiful Seattle morning and I can't imagine leaving this place. The skies are blue, the air is fresh, and silence surrounds me. But these are the games that my mind plays with me. It's so true when they say the grass is greener on the other side. You always miss what you leave behind. Just only a week ago, I was excited to get back to the hustle and bustle of India! My mind is going back and forth, back and forth! I have learned to ignore it and take what is to come. I know once I arrive in India, I will fall back easily into the swing of things...the haggling, smiling back at all the numerous friendly smiles that approach you, and living a less comfortable lifestyle. Soon, a hotel room with a TV and a hot shower will feel like luxury to us. And spending $4 on a a meal will feel like we are eating like a king. Somehow, what seems so foreign to you seems natural again within only a couple weeks. Crazy how the mind works.
Joe and I are both tired of traveling. After 8 months, it has become exhausting to live out of a bag and wander from place to place without a purpose. Our next 3.5 months of traveling is a little more structured than our last.....Yes, we actually did plan our time out to a certain extent!!!! Yikes!!!! Of course, knowing us, it is impossible to stick to plans! So we'll see how it goes. Once we arrive in Delhi, we will spend two weeks (or so) in Kashmir and celebrate our 1st anniversary in a houseboat in Srinagar. We will then make the 2-day journey to Ladakh where we will do some volunteer work for 2 months in remote Tibetan villages. And then once Diwali rolls around and India is no longer drowning in monsoon rains, we will head south to visit family in Gujarat, Mumbai, and Bangalore. Only 3 months in India this time, and I can see it go fast! We will be back again in the US on December 14th so we can celebrate Christmas. So happy Halloween and Thanksgiving everyone! And see you in a few months! We love you.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
Thank Goodness for the Police!
Current Location: Kathmandu, NEPAL
For your information, the above subject for this entry is meant to be sarcastic. Because we have come to the conclusion that the police are absolutely worthless here! After mourning over the loss of our beloved camera, we decided that it might be worthwhile to file a police report with the Kathmandu Tourist Police. Boy were we wrong! We entered the tourist police station to eight friendly policemen and women. They were more than happy to assist Joe with filling out the police report and chatting me up in the meantime.
Once we finished and they handed us an official-looking typed police report, I casually asked one of the officers, "So how will you contact us if someone happens to turn in our camera?" The officer laughed at us as if we were asking a ludicrous question. "Oh you won't get your camera back," he replied. "Nothing ever comes back to the police station." I understood that the likelihood of someone turning in our camera was very slim. But I couldn't believe that in the history of this police station, NO ONE has returned even a missing passport to the station. But I tried to keep my cool. "So what's the point of filling this police report out?" I asked. He chuckled and said, "So you can get your money from the insurance company," he said. I couldn't believe my ears. I turned and looked at Joe to see he was shaking his head as well. "So what do YOU do?" Joe asked. "Oh, well we investigate," the policeman stumbled, "and if we find the guy, we punish him." But still, no mention of our camera.
Of course we didn't expect them to take the time out of their schedule to go looking throughout Kathmandu to find our camera. I am sure they have better things to do. Although, I question that since there were EIGHT police officers helping Joe fill out a police report. But a little reassurance that we could have trust in the police officers in case a miracle happened and our camera showed up would be nice! I wouldn't be surprised if they did come across our camera, it would be immediately sold to the theives market for some extra cash in their pockets. In poor and corrupt countries like Nepal and India, backshish (or bribes) are the name of the game...police officers exert their power because they can, and criminals escape punishment by paying some money to the police officers. That's one thing to be thankful for in Western countries...we can, for the most part, trust and feel safe in the hands of the police! So cheers to our policemen at home!
For your information, the above subject for this entry is meant to be sarcastic. Because we have come to the conclusion that the police are absolutely worthless here! After mourning over the loss of our beloved camera, we decided that it might be worthwhile to file a police report with the Kathmandu Tourist Police. Boy were we wrong! We entered the tourist police station to eight friendly policemen and women. They were more than happy to assist Joe with filling out the police report and chatting me up in the meantime.
Once we finished and they handed us an official-looking typed police report, I casually asked one of the officers, "So how will you contact us if someone happens to turn in our camera?" The officer laughed at us as if we were asking a ludicrous question. "Oh you won't get your camera back," he replied. "Nothing ever comes back to the police station." I understood that the likelihood of someone turning in our camera was very slim. But I couldn't believe that in the history of this police station, NO ONE has returned even a missing passport to the station. But I tried to keep my cool. "So what's the point of filling this police report out?" I asked. He chuckled and said, "So you can get your money from the insurance company," he said. I couldn't believe my ears. I turned and looked at Joe to see he was shaking his head as well. "So what do YOU do?" Joe asked. "Oh, well we investigate," the policeman stumbled, "and if we find the guy, we punish him." But still, no mention of our camera.
Of course we didn't expect them to take the time out of their schedule to go looking throughout Kathmandu to find our camera. I am sure they have better things to do. Although, I question that since there were EIGHT police officers helping Joe fill out a police report. But a little reassurance that we could have trust in the police officers in case a miracle happened and our camera showed up would be nice! I wouldn't be surprised if they did come across our camera, it would be immediately sold to the theives market for some extra cash in their pockets. In poor and corrupt countries like Nepal and India, backshish (or bribes) are the name of the game...police officers exert their power because they can, and criminals escape punishment by paying some money to the police officers. That's one thing to be thankful for in Western countries...we can, for the most part, trust and feel safe in the hands of the police! So cheers to our policemen at home!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Motorcycles and bad luck
Current Location: Kathmandu, Nepal
Many of you will remember our trip to Greece in 2001 when we rented a moped and Joe returned home with a broken leg and a few pounds of extra metal. If you don't remember click here. Well our luck with motorbikes has struck again! This time we decided to take a trip out of Kathmandu towards the Tibetan border. The first few miles were a little stressful, but as soon as we got out of the city it was smooth sailing with beautiful scenery. We rented a Yamaha Enticer which lives up to its name. Its looks entice you to rent it, then when you drive it you realize it's just a fancy looking 125cc moped.
The trekking guide's name was Lila Lama, and he was so energetic and positive about helping us we both gained a little hope. He said that our best chance was to write up a flier and post it around the village. With his help we created a flier in Nepali and with the help of his brother we posted it everywhere. Now everytime I rode the bike into town, there was an immediate crowd around me of 15-20 people all asking if we had found anything. Many of these people do not own a camera and some may have never even used one. It's safe to say that none of them had ever owned a digital SLR, yet they showed unyielding concern. They could have easily just passed us off as rich spoiled foreigners, but instead they padded us on the back in consolation and dropped everything just to help.
When daylight was nearly gone and we had been searching straight for 12 hours, Lila Lama and one of his friends invited us to tea. He began to tell me that he understood what a great loss the camera and our pictures were. He explained that all things are temporary and attachment only leads to suffering. Of course these teachings were very familiar to me so I mentioned that Sejal and I had just finished a Vipassana course. He told me that he had taken two courses before and we both laughed at the fate that had brought us together. He promised to meet me the next morning to help put an ad in the paper. He also promised to continually look locally for our camera and send it to us if it is found.
The next morning we met with Lila Lama and got some more fliers made. We toured the whole countryside stopping to talk to everyone we saw. Everytime we got the same response, compassion and a neverending willingness to help. All in all we headed out over 90 fliers. By this time we had both accepted that the camera was gone. Although it is a great loss, our hearts cannot be saddened due to the wonderful experience of meeting so many loving and compassionate people.
Many of you will remember our trip to Greece in 2001 when we rented a moped and Joe returned home with a broken leg and a few pounds of extra metal. If you don't remember click here. Well our luck with motorbikes has struck again! This time we decided to take a trip out of Kathmandu towards the Tibetan border. The first few miles were a little stressful, but as soon as we got out of the city it was smooth sailing with beautiful scenery. We rented a Yamaha Enticer which lives up to its name. Its looks entice you to rent it, then when you drive it you realize it's just a fancy looking 125cc moped.
We headed to Durikel and enjoyed the day looking at ancient temples and a great view. It was too hazy to see the Himalayas but the terraced green valley below was beautiful. We decided to continue our trip towards Tibet to see the Bhote Kosi river. The scenery got even better and we made it all the way to the "Last Resort" which is home to the world's second highest bungi jump and is only 15 kms from Tibet. We chose just to walk over the huge suspension bridge without jumping off. The Last resort wanted too much for a nights stay so we headed back towards Kathmandu and found a place for 200 Nrps ($3) called the little Tibet Resort. It was right on the river and a very quiet and relaxing place to stay.
In the morning we headed out. We strapped our backpack carefully onto the back of the bike and took off. The roads are washed out in many places by landslides, so I had to maneuver my way over bumpy and rocky sections. We were both enjoying the trip and by this time I had gotten used to the bike so I was going a little faster. About 10 kms along the way, Sejal yelled STOP!!! Our backpack's zipper had come open and the contents were nowhere to be seen. We had lost a book, a shirt, and most importantly our CAMERA! In a panic we turned around to start searching. About 2 kms back we saw the shirt in the middle of the road. A local villager saw us looking and waved his hands. He had found our book and picked it up. He gladly returned it with a smile and we asked if he had seen our camera bag. He hadn't so we headed back down the road searching every inch. We found nothing!
Sejal continued searching on foot and I headed on the bike all the way back to our guesthouse. I then stopped by the police checkpoint. I caused quite the stir walking in as none of the police spoke English and seemed to be fighting over who would have to talk to me. Soon an "officer" came out causing everyone in fatigues to salute. He spoke English and I told him what happened. He handed me a blank sheet of paper and told me to fill out my "application". I wasn't sure what this meant so I wrote down my contact info and a short description of what happened. Knowing the police need a bit of a push, I promised to give 5000 Nrps ($77) to anyone who found our camera bag. I then headed back down the road at a snails pace. I stopped everyone I passed and with a mixture of Hindi and hand signals I explained what had happened. I was surprised at the immediate concern that all the villagers showed. They were so compassionate about our problem and so willing to help. We also made sure to point out that anyone who found it would get 5000 Nrps.
The search continued and we began to attract more and more attention. Strangers would come up to us and with a twist of the palm ask if we had found our bag. We attracted a search party of about 7 young men who hiked down the steep cliffs with me to search. The day was hot and we hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. Luckily Sejal found a shady hut near where we had found the book and shirt. I found her there surrounded by about 15 young Nepali women all chatting with her and suggesting ways to help. With the bike and one of my new helpers we headed back to town to check with the "book-lost guy". As soon as we arrived in town my bike was surrounded. Everyone wanted to know if I had found my camera...word travels fast in a small town. There was a lively funeral procession coming through town and people left their mourning to come and ask me if my camera had been found and to help. We checked every chat house and noodle stand and could not find the "book-lost guy" so we headed to the bus stand. There I was introduced to a old smiling man in the traditional Nepali Topi (hat). Apparently the police are of no help in finding lost articles (not a big surprise) so the town had given the responsibility to this man. He had not heard of anything so he told us to come back after noon.
As we were about to head out of town I was approached by a man who spoke perfect english and asked if I had found my camera. I was so relieved to talk to someone who could actually understand me. He was a trekking guide who spoke 5 languages and lived in the nearby mountains. He told me that he would help with the search and the three of us jumped back on my bike and headed out to the area we thought we lost the camera. We questioned the coolies carrying rocks up the steep cliff to be used in paving and stabilizing. They provided us our hottest lead by saying that a "paving man" (working on repaving the road by hand) wearing white pants stained with tar had been walking around the area at about 7 am. The rock carrying coolies had said hi to him and he had not returned their greeting. This was our hottest lead.The trekking guide's name was Lila Lama, and he was so energetic and positive about helping us we both gained a little hope. He said that our best chance was to write up a flier and post it around the village. With his help we created a flier in Nepali and with the help of his brother we posted it everywhere. Now everytime I rode the bike into town, there was an immediate crowd around me of 15-20 people all asking if we had found anything. Many of these people do not own a camera and some may have never even used one. It's safe to say that none of them had ever owned a digital SLR, yet they showed unyielding concern. They could have easily just passed us off as rich spoiled foreigners, but instead they padded us on the back in consolation and dropped everything just to help.
When daylight was nearly gone and we had been searching straight for 12 hours, Lila Lama and one of his friends invited us to tea. He began to tell me that he understood what a great loss the camera and our pictures were. He explained that all things are temporary and attachment only leads to suffering. Of course these teachings were very familiar to me so I mentioned that Sejal and I had just finished a Vipassana course. He told me that he had taken two courses before and we both laughed at the fate that had brought us together. He promised to meet me the next morning to help put an ad in the paper. He also promised to continually look locally for our camera and send it to us if it is found.
The next morning we met with Lila Lama and got some more fliers made. We toured the whole countryside stopping to talk to everyone we saw. Everytime we got the same response, compassion and a neverending willingness to help. All in all we headed out over 90 fliers. By this time we had both accepted that the camera was gone. Although it is a great loss, our hearts cannot be saddened due to the wonderful experience of meeting so many loving and compassionate people.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Vipassana
Current Location: Pokhara, NEPAL
Yes, we survived it, and I am so proud of myself. Coming into the course, I was a bit nervous. My mom told me that they don't let anyone drive to the meditation center because they don't want people to drive away after the second day. The day before the start of the course, I was thinking of copping out. But I knew that it wouldn't hurt me...it could only help me. And I am so happy that I decided to stick with it. Joe did a great job explaining the principles of Vipassana in his blog entry. It is a wonderful technique that makes so much sense when you learn about it. You soon come to realize that we are externally motivated creatures. We are constantly faced with our everyday lives--work, school, stress, kids. We are reacting and doing, reacting and doing. All our inputs that we learn from and react to come from the outside. But when was the last time that you sat quietly and looked inside yourself? This is what I told myself before I started the course. I don't think hardly any human being in this world gets the opportunity to spend 10-days with just themselves and being inside themselves. It's such an amazing experience!
For me, I quickly came to realize that I had a lot to learn. All my life, I have never been alone. As a child, I lived with my family and then when I became an adult, I lived with roommates. I felt lonesome if my roommates were away, and would quickly consume my mind with busy work like cleaning the house or doing school work. Whenever, I had any problems or issues, I always had an outlet whether it be my family, my husband, or my friends. This was an opportunity to do something that I had always avoided. Being by myself, discovering myself, and being at peace with myself.
Vipassana isn't easy. After Day 1, I felt like an 80-year old woman, limping after sitting for a 4-hour meditation session. I have never had back issues before, but now I know what it's like to have back pain. And my knees were in continuous distress from sitting hour after hour cross-legged. At night I would go to sleep with nothing in my stomach but hunger pains and empty rumbling.
But the physical pain wasn't the most difficult part. The hardest part was the mental pain. Initially, I realized that I lack concentration and patience. My mind is what Goenka-gi would call a wild elephant. Running around like a mad animal. It needs a whip or a cage to contain it! I feel sorry for anyone who has to be inside my head! But after day 3, I learned to capture this wild animal and contain it. Then the deep incision started. Goenka-gii compares Vipassana meditation to a surgical procedure. You are making an incision to allow all the infectious material to leak out. Similarly, in meditation, you are doing a deep surgical procedure on your mind. You are discovering the reality of the mind. You are then forced to face these realities and conquer them. This wasn't easy at all. The 10-days was an emotional roller coaster ride. One day I would be elated and smiling from ear to ear, and another day I would be crying wishing that the course would be over. But I soon realized that I am the master of my mind. My mind is the one that creates these realities for me. I have control over my own reality. Just as the saying goes, "Is the glass half full or half empty?" It's up to me how I view things.
These 10-days was a time for serious self-discovery. I learned that I lack patience for myself. I beat myself up over my failures and don't give myself credit for my successes. Each failure is an opportunity to learn. I have the power to console and heal my own wounds. The most important aspect to any encounter is a calm and relaxed mind.
By the end of the 10-days, it was as much of a shock entering the real world as it was entering the rigorous course. My real test was a bus ride that we had to Mussorie. I found I was very sensitive to the usual shouting, touching, pushing and shoving that goes on in Indian buses. But I was able to detect these sensations of stress and extinguish them.
Joe and I are hoping to continue our meditation with an hour at morning and nighttime. It's a energizing way to begin a day and a relaxing way to end the day. Similar to seeing the sunrise and sunset each day. I feel calm and relaxed mentally and physically after each sitting. The best part is that after each meditation, we do what is called Mehta which is extending our happiness to those we love. It's my opportunity to share it with you and wish you all happiness. Be happy. मंगल हैं !
Yes, we survived it, and I am so proud of myself. Coming into the course, I was a bit nervous. My mom told me that they don't let anyone drive to the meditation center because they don't want people to drive away after the second day. The day before the start of the course, I was thinking of copping out. But I knew that it wouldn't hurt me...it could only help me. And I am so happy that I decided to stick with it. Joe did a great job explaining the principles of Vipassana in his blog entry. It is a wonderful technique that makes so much sense when you learn about it. You soon come to realize that we are externally motivated creatures. We are constantly faced with our everyday lives--work, school, stress, kids. We are reacting and doing, reacting and doing. All our inputs that we learn from and react to come from the outside. But when was the last time that you sat quietly and looked inside yourself? This is what I told myself before I started the course. I don't think hardly any human being in this world gets the opportunity to spend 10-days with just themselves and being inside themselves. It's such an amazing experience!
For me, I quickly came to realize that I had a lot to learn. All my life, I have never been alone. As a child, I lived with my family and then when I became an adult, I lived with roommates. I felt lonesome if my roommates were away, and would quickly consume my mind with busy work like cleaning the house or doing school work. Whenever, I had any problems or issues, I always had an outlet whether it be my family, my husband, or my friends. This was an opportunity to do something that I had always avoided. Being by myself, discovering myself, and being at peace with myself.
Vipassana isn't easy. After Day 1, I felt like an 80-year old woman, limping after sitting for a 4-hour meditation session. I have never had back issues before, but now I know what it's like to have back pain. And my knees were in continuous distress from sitting hour after hour cross-legged. At night I would go to sleep with nothing in my stomach but hunger pains and empty rumbling.
But the physical pain wasn't the most difficult part. The hardest part was the mental pain. Initially, I realized that I lack concentration and patience. My mind is what Goenka-gi would call a wild elephant. Running around like a mad animal. It needs a whip or a cage to contain it! I feel sorry for anyone who has to be inside my head! But after day 3, I learned to capture this wild animal and contain it. Then the deep incision started. Goenka-gii compares Vipassana meditation to a surgical procedure. You are making an incision to allow all the infectious material to leak out. Similarly, in meditation, you are doing a deep surgical procedure on your mind. You are discovering the reality of the mind. You are then forced to face these realities and conquer them. This wasn't easy at all. The 10-days was an emotional roller coaster ride. One day I would be elated and smiling from ear to ear, and another day I would be crying wishing that the course would be over. But I soon realized that I am the master of my mind. My mind is the one that creates these realities for me. I have control over my own reality. Just as the saying goes, "Is the glass half full or half empty?" It's up to me how I view things.
These 10-days was a time for serious self-discovery. I learned that I lack patience for myself. I beat myself up over my failures and don't give myself credit for my successes. Each failure is an opportunity to learn. I have the power to console and heal my own wounds. The most important aspect to any encounter is a calm and relaxed mind.
By the end of the 10-days, it was as much of a shock entering the real world as it was entering the rigorous course. My real test was a bus ride that we had to Mussorie. I found I was very sensitive to the usual shouting, touching, pushing and shoving that goes on in Indian buses. But I was able to detect these sensations of stress and extinguish them.
Joe and I are hoping to continue our meditation with an hour at morning and nighttime. It's a energizing way to begin a day and a relaxing way to end the day. Similar to seeing the sunrise and sunset each day. I feel calm and relaxed mentally and physically after each sitting. The best part is that after each meditation, we do what is called Mehta which is extending our happiness to those we love. It's my opportunity to share it with you and wish you all happiness. Be happy. मंगल हैं !
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Vipassana in Dehra Dun
Current Location: Dehra Dun, Uttaranchal, India
Sejal and I just finished a 10 day Vipassana Course. The course was an incredible and sometimes intense experience. We learned a lot about ourselves and our minds. Vipassana is a meditation technique that was "rediscovered" by Guatama Buddha 2500 years ago. It's highly practical and scientific in nature and leads down a path of mental discovery. Basically the meditation provides first-hand experience that our biggest obstacles in life and in meditation are our own conditioned responses and ways of thinking.
Throughout life we struggle with these obstacles. We worry, stress, and crave, creating mental storms that can take on a life of their own. These internal torments plague us daily, but we do not see them as they truly are. Instead we focus our attention externally. We find "causes" for our suffering and place blame on them. "If only so-and-so hadn't said that to me, he makes me so angry....If only I had a nicer car....If only I had more money...then I would be happy." These thoughts create new worries and new cravings and the cycle continues. In order to function in society we learn to mask our internal struggles and put on a happy face. We exercise control over our external actions, but we allow our internal reactions to continue unchecked, unconscious to us.
Through years of meditation Buddha learned how to observe his own body and mind objectively. He used this objective observation to gain insight into the process that leads to mental anguish. He discovered that the true roots of all unhappiness are planted in the mind. He also discovered that there is a path to stop this cycle of unhappiness. Whenever we come into contact with an external object or a mental thought our mind judges this experience as good or bad. A corresponding sensation is created in the body and sensed by the unconscious mind which reacts to it with either craving or aversion. These experiences continually repeat themselves in our heads creating more reactions with more craving or aversion. This cycle continues and builds until even the conscious mind is overpowered and we react in anger, or worry, or longing. The Buddha called these cravings and aversions sankharas and learned that through meditation one can learn to reconnect with the unconscious mind and stop the blind reactions.
The course we took was taught by S.N. Goenka and the courses are offered all over the world, check out http://www.dhamma.org/ (there is one between Seattle and Portland!). He is not the only teacher of Vipassana and probably not the best, but the courses are very accessible and free to all. They claim to be beginner courses but after completing one I think some previous knowledge about the technique and teaching is very helpful. Luckily I have some history in this technique since I took a course in Cambridge and practice on my own, however my past experience was nothing at all like this course.
For the first 9 days we were not allowed to talk, and more than that we couldn't communicate in anyway, no sign language, no eye contact, no gesturing. Every morning we were woken up at 4 am and started meditating at 4:30. We meditated for 10.5 hours each day with three breaks (breakfast, lunch, and tea with snacks). It was pretty intensive, but after a few days we got used to it.
The technique is really easy to explain, but turns out to be difficult to fully understand unless it is practised. By observing your natural breathing and concentrating on a small part of the body, you develop your mind's ability to concentrate and to feel subtle body sensations. These sensations can be anything; itching, cold, heat, pressure, sweat, heaviness. At first you can't feel anything but soon you relax and concentrate and your body lights up with all types of sensations. The key to the technique is to remain focused and at peace. They tell you this and you think, "Okay...I'm at peace." But then when you try it, you learn that they mean a much deeper peace then we are accustom to, a complete peace throughout the conscious and unconscious mind. Focused and at peace, you slowly and patiently scan your whole body to develop the ability to sense even subtler sensations. As you become more and more aware of your body sensations and learn to continually remain "equanimous" (at peace), your mind stops developing cravings and aversions and even the old built up cravings and aversions are removed. This allows you to react in all situations with a calm and balanced mind, not only on the surface, but also at the so called "unconscious" level. With no cravings and aversions you no longer worry or crave for things to be different than they truly are. You enjoy life in the present, as it is. Having said all of this, it's important to remember that old habits are hard to break and it is a long path.
The 10 day course is just enough to get one established in the technique and it's a strong learning experience. Your mind guides you and slowly teaches you the level of patience that is really needed to remain at peace, inside and out. It's not aways pleasant, but after you fight through the hard parts, you learn. And when you learn it's through experience....like a child touching a hot stove for the first time. For those who are interested, here is a breakdown of my experience.
When I first started meditating I noticed that my mind is anything but calm. I concentrate for a few minutes and then start thinking about our next stop on the trip, or the words from some 80's song, or whether I can find chocolate dipped ice cream cones in Dehra Dun, or just about anything. I learned quickly that my mind, (like everyone else's) has a mind of it's own. The first three days are focused on "Ana Pana", awareness of respiration. As we focused all our attention on the breath as it comes in and goes out, our mind slowly becomes more focused. I came in to the course a little overconfident since I had past experience. I found that during the first few days I was continually judging the teaching. In my past course there had been a lot of instruction and a lot of breaks. In this course there are long periods of complete silence without breaks. I started to think "If only he would give more instructions, or have a little walking meditation...then I could concentrate." There are also periods of chanting in Pali. I initially found these very distracting (and a little humorous) and couldn't help but think, "If only this guy would shut up, or at least speak English...then I could concentrate." Sitting cross-legged is difficult for me especially with no back support, so I would constantly shift, craving for a more comfortable position. Even with all of these distractions (created in my own mind) I found that hour by hour, day by day, I could remain concentrated longer and longer. On the end of day 3 and morning of day 4 we focused our newly learned concentration on the small area above the upper lip and below the nostrils. I first felt only itching, but soon was able to feel a little stiffness, and at times some tingling.
On day 4 they taught Vipassana. With enhanced concentration we moved our awareness from the top of our head to our feet, observing every sensation along the way. I was surprised that I could feel sensations nearly everywhere. Sometimes it was just an itch, or some soreness from sitting, but occasionally I could feel a tingling sensation-like when your foot goes to sleep-but subtler. After the initial guided lesson we were told that during the three one-hour group sittings we should make a strong effort not to move in anyway or open our eyes. This sent me into an immediate state of panic. I had not found a comfortable way to sit and when pain developed I would shift to make it easier to concentrate. This panic gave rise to more skepticism about the teaching. "If only they would let me shift! I know what I'm doing so I'm just going to shift when I need to."
Into day 5 I could feel more and more sensations. They would go away as soon as a pain developed so naturally I would shift. Unnoticed to me, I had become very happy with my progress and ability to feel sensations nearly everywhere. During an interview with the teacher I proudly told him of my progress. He responded by asking if I was able to remain "equanimous" and said that he had seen me shifting position. "What!!! What is this equanimous stuff? Of course I shift, it makes it easier to concentrate, I know what I'm doing!!" My mind wandered into utter confusion. "Isn't this about feeling sensations? I can feel them better when I move to alleviate my pain." Unable to speak to anyone about this, I spiraled downward, no longer able to hold concentration which led to frustration. I felt like I was moving backwards. I couldn't feel sensations anymore and I couldn't sit for more then 15 minutes without moving. I begin to worry if I would make it through the course and felt a great sense of loss. Hours of silent pondering led me to the (somewhat obvious) realization that I hadn't lost anything. I still had the same mind...it was just a little "unequanimous". Soon it hit me...the sensations are just a tool, what I really must develop is the patience to deal with trials whether it is pain, or poor meditation, or what seems like slander from the teacher. I regained some peace and was able to reinforce it in meditation. For the first time I made a real effort not to shift. I didn't make the whole hour, but I could tell I was on the right track. I began to see that the teaching I had been so skeptical about might have some merit.
On day 6 I had new motivation. I decide not to move. The hour sittings were difficult. Pain would arise and my mind would begin to react. "If only I could move just a little!" I would tell my mind that the pain was just temporary, but I hadn't learned to fully believe it. By the end of the day I was able to sit through a full hour without moving, but as each hour finished I was exhausted. It was hard work, much harder then I had expected, but I was starting to feel something. If I didn't react, some of the pains got easier to deal with. They were still there, but didn't seem as threatening. In the discourse, Goenka (the teacher) verified that most students experience some pain on Day 6. He stated that it's old "Sankharas" (conditioned aversions) that must be released. Again my skepticism arose. "I'm not believing that one, they are just pains from sitting so long". He ensured us that we had passed a milestone and that if we learned to remain totally equanimous the pains would dissolve.
Jazzed by the discourse and my new ability to sit for 1 hour straight, I was ready to develop my equanimity. Day seven's first hour session started with the same pain. I was determined not to move, and this time I also directed my concentration to keep the mind calm. The pain started to fade...I began to feel subtle, pleasant sensations in most parts of my body. I found that as I moved my attention, the sensations flowed through my body. If they flowed through an area with pain, it was gone...completely gone. "Oh, this is wonderful!!!! There's a pain...zap...another one...zap." I began to get excited! "My meditation will be so wonderful from now on! I'm the king of sensations! Surely enlightenment is just around the corner". Even by the end of the first hour my experience started to change. A pain in my leg would not go away, but I was saved by the bell. I had an interview with the teacher where I told him of my wonderful experience (later I found out that Sejal overheard me and it caused her a bit of frustration...as any comparison of experiences is bound to do). He asked if I had remained equanimous and I gladly say "Yes!".
Of course, the rest of my day was TERRIBLE. The next sitting I felt some pain and cheerfully tried to "zap" it. There was no zap. The pain remained. I began to long for the pleasant sensations. "What did I do wrong? Will I have to go through the pain AGAIN? NOOOOOO!" This time it only took me a few hours to realize my folly. I had grown attached to the pleasant sensations. This attachment led to an unbalanced mind and I was unable to feel the sensations....there is no lying to your own mind. I started over, careful to give myself the needed time to regain equanimity. By the end of the day I could concentrate again. Yes there was pain, but I didn't let it get to me.
This roller coaster continued through days 8 and 9. I would experience small achievements leading to small attachments. I would quickly realize the attachments and regain equanimity. I found that, hour by hour, I was able to stay equanimous for longer. My pains did not turn into worries, I was able to stop dreading the pain. There was pain there now and again, but it didn't bother me, I would just observe it and move on. If I ever started getting agitated or frustrated I could feel it and would return my focus to my breath to slowly regain peace. It wasn't all roses. At some sittings pain or itching got the better of me and I opened my eyes. I could feel my frustration from these perceived failures and slowly, patiently learned to not let the frustration effect me. I also had moments of craving. One day 9 the teacher begain talking about the "free flow" of subtle vibrations. He stated that those who feel it should sweep the body and those who don't should continue working part by part. "Why can't I feel them! What's wrong with me? Am I behind the class?" I started again to long for these sensations, which only made things worse. I realized that I put a lot of pressure on myself. I had previously learned that feeling any particular type of sensation is not the goal, but still I felt frustrated by the thought that others might be "ahead" of me. This frustration got the better of me and I again had to start over and ponder what had happened. I learned that there is only one experience you can have, your own. Comparing this to what others might or might not experience will only lead to more mental anguish. Slowly, I learned that these worries are frivolous, and regained my peace.
Towards the end of day 9, I started to notice something strange. What I had viewed as leg pain would appear and stay for a short period and then disappear. I didn't move. It would return and stay for a shorter period and then disappear. "If this is merely muscle pain, why is it coming and going?" I thought most of the night about the pain that comes and goes. By this time I knew I was feeling positive results and was beginning to trust the teaching. I thought, "Maybe this sankhara thing is real?...Nah, Then why do I only feel pain in the places where I am sore?" I was meditating when I thought this and immediately I felt a subtle, new pain near my neck. I moved my concentration to it to investigate. It was below the skin and nothing I had noticed before, as I concentrated on it...boom! It escalated into an intense sensation, like pain but without the sharp edge. I remained calm, equanimous, and it continued. It moved slightly to just at the top of my spine and got even stronger. For forty minutes there was extreme intensity and then...poof...it was gone. I stood up and felt noticeably lighter. My smile seemed easier, natural. In fact, it was hard to frown.
This all happened right before the end of our vow of silence. I felt like I wanted to investigate further and was not quite ready to begin talking so I headed up to my meditation cell. On day 7 we were all given cells which are a lot like the name implies. They are small rooms no bigger than a closet with a small window, a light, and a meditation cushion. It may sound a little claustrophobic, but the privacy and silence it provides can be very helpful. I meditated for another fifty minutes and felt similar intense sensations on and off. My concentration and peace remained. When I heard the lunch bell I stood up feeling totally refreshed. I walked into the men's dining hall interested to vocally meet the men I had spent 9 days in close quarters with.
I had a little apprehension to talking again. As soon as I walked into the dinning hall, one of the Indian guys came up and said hi. The whole week I had called him "gawker" in my head since I often saw him staring at me from the corner of my eye. I found that even though earlier in the week I had found myself annoyed by his staring, I no longer had any harsh feelings towards him. I greeted him with a smile and answered all the usual questions happily...Where are you from? You like India?...etc.
I sat down at the table and started talking to the 4 other foreigners and some of the Indians. I found that everyone was very different then I had perceived them to be and everyone's experience had been totally different. I spoke to one student who said he had not gotten very much from the course. He was a westerner and had just recently graduated from high school and did not have any previous knowledge of the Buddha's teaching. Our teacher, Goenka, grew up in Burma with a Hindu background and had been following Buddhist teaching for the past 14 years. Although his discourses are very good, he is not of the same frame of mind as a westerner. He tries to remain nonsectarian, and is not interested in converting anyone to Buddhism. In fact, Buddha's teachings are completely against the forming of an organized religion. Vipassana is simply a method to help anyone and everyone become more familiar with the inter workings of their mind. Regardless of intent, it is difficult to jump cultural barriers. In parts of Goenka's teaching he "throws in" ideas such as reincarnation, past lives, and the final goal of Nirvana. He mentions them in passing since these concepts are part of his past and everyday understanding of the world.
To a westerner, these concepts can be a "deal breaker". They do not have to be believed, accepted, or even acknowledged in order to practice and gain benefit from Vipassana. However, after they are brought up in the teaching they can lead to a strong reaction from someone who is not accustom to this type of thought. This reaction leads to doubt in the teaching and a mental barrier to the practice. Everyone has attachment to their own background, their culture, their religion. Any threat to this, real or perceived, gives rise to defensiveness, aversion. "What's this Nirvana Stuff, I'm going to Heaven, this guy is trying to pollute my mind!" This is a strong and easy trap to fall into. I found myself thinking these thoughts at times. I feel fortunate that through my travels I have studied other religions and understand that the concepts of all religions are very similar. I often think of them as the same concepts and beliefs explained differently. A question of semantics. Concepts from the religions that Goenka has practiced naturally leak into his teaching. They do not need to be accepted or believed to practice Vipassana. Goenka tries continually to lead students away from this mental trap by mentioning that Vipassana is nonsectarian and that nothing should be blindly accepted. The whole point of Vipassana is to learn from your own experience, not trust the teachings of others. He says these things as an effort to help, however since he is from a very different background, I found that he unintentionally uses words or methods that can trigger a westerner's defense.
One example is the chanting. From the beginning of the course there is a tape of Goenka chanting in Pali that is turned on at the beginning and ending of meditation sessions. I now know that the chantings are the original discourses the Buddha used to teach Vipassana. Goenka, along with all Hindus and Buddhists, believes that just the vibrations given off by the Pali chanting are beneficial to the students. This can be a difficult concept for a westerner to accept. I was also initially turned off by these chantings, but was able to get past it. If someone reading this plans to take a course from Goenka, please believe that the intent behind the chantings is pure and simply comes from a different background.
Another example is the discription of Nirvana as the final goal of Vipassana. Nirvana is explained as nonexistence. "What! Nonexistence! Why would I want to not exist? I like my life!" Nirvana is a very difficult concept to explain or understand. Goenka brings it up as the final goal, but does not spend much time explaining it. I believe this can turn many people off because it blurs one's modivations. As a beginner and layman (not a monk or hermit) I prefer to see my goal as the alleviation of all suffering in this life.
So for anyone out there who might think about taking a course similar to this don't forget that you are your own master. Towards the end of the course Goenka states that any part of the teaching that seems unacceptable to you due to your own beliefs, you can throw it out. The only important teachings are those that you learn yourself from your own experience. I believe this should be stated on day one, so here it is.
The true test of this course is how it helps in daily life. Well after Sejal and I left the course we were thrown right back into India. The bus ride from the peaceful quiet meditation center was full of unnecessary honking and a little pushing. Our next bus ride to Mussourie had chaos during boarding and the usual elbows, bags, and crotches held too close to us. Through all of this we both smiled. It seemed different some how, as if each person had their reasons for each action. They didn't concern me even after the 15th bag hitting my head, there was no reason to feel threatened or wish for more space. It was how it was and we were happy. I plan to continue my meditation on my own. So far I have done one or two hour sittings each day. I have found that I am able to remain more calm, and I notice more subtle pleasures throughout the days. Meditating on my own is totally different then during the course. Whatever the reasons, in our hotel room meditating is a wonderful, peaceful experience once again.
We would love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment!
Sejal and I just finished a 10 day Vipassana Course. The course was an incredible and sometimes intense experience. We learned a lot about ourselves and our minds. Vipassana is a meditation technique that was "rediscovered" by Guatama Buddha 2500 years ago. It's highly practical and scientific in nature and leads down a path of mental discovery. Basically the meditation provides first-hand experience that our biggest obstacles in life and in meditation are our own conditioned responses and ways of thinking.
Throughout life we struggle with these obstacles. We worry, stress, and crave, creating mental storms that can take on a life of their own. These internal torments plague us daily, but we do not see them as they truly are. Instead we focus our attention externally. We find "causes" for our suffering and place blame on them. "If only so-and-so hadn't said that to me, he makes me so angry....If only I had a nicer car....If only I had more money...then I would be happy." These thoughts create new worries and new cravings and the cycle continues. In order to function in society we learn to mask our internal struggles and put on a happy face. We exercise control over our external actions, but we allow our internal reactions to continue unchecked, unconscious to us.
Through years of meditation Buddha learned how to observe his own body and mind objectively. He used this objective observation to gain insight into the process that leads to mental anguish. He discovered that the true roots of all unhappiness are planted in the mind. He also discovered that there is a path to stop this cycle of unhappiness. Whenever we come into contact with an external object or a mental thought our mind judges this experience as good or bad. A corresponding sensation is created in the body and sensed by the unconscious mind which reacts to it with either craving or aversion. These experiences continually repeat themselves in our heads creating more reactions with more craving or aversion. This cycle continues and builds until even the conscious mind is overpowered and we react in anger, or worry, or longing. The Buddha called these cravings and aversions sankharas and learned that through meditation one can learn to reconnect with the unconscious mind and stop the blind reactions.
The course we took was taught by S.N. Goenka and the courses are offered all over the world, check out http://www.dhamma.org/ (there is one between Seattle and Portland!). He is not the only teacher of Vipassana and probably not the best, but the courses are very accessible and free to all. They claim to be beginner courses but after completing one I think some previous knowledge about the technique and teaching is very helpful. Luckily I have some history in this technique since I took a course in Cambridge and practice on my own, however my past experience was nothing at all like this course.
For the first 9 days we were not allowed to talk, and more than that we couldn't communicate in anyway, no sign language, no eye contact, no gesturing. Every morning we were woken up at 4 am and started meditating at 4:30. We meditated for 10.5 hours each day with three breaks (breakfast, lunch, and tea with snacks). It was pretty intensive, but after a few days we got used to it.
The technique is really easy to explain, but turns out to be difficult to fully understand unless it is practised. By observing your natural breathing and concentrating on a small part of the body, you develop your mind's ability to concentrate and to feel subtle body sensations. These sensations can be anything; itching, cold, heat, pressure, sweat, heaviness. At first you can't feel anything but soon you relax and concentrate and your body lights up with all types of sensations. The key to the technique is to remain focused and at peace. They tell you this and you think, "Okay...I'm at peace." But then when you try it, you learn that they mean a much deeper peace then we are accustom to, a complete peace throughout the conscious and unconscious mind. Focused and at peace, you slowly and patiently scan your whole body to develop the ability to sense even subtler sensations. As you become more and more aware of your body sensations and learn to continually remain "equanimous" (at peace), your mind stops developing cravings and aversions and even the old built up cravings and aversions are removed. This allows you to react in all situations with a calm and balanced mind, not only on the surface, but also at the so called "unconscious" level. With no cravings and aversions you no longer worry or crave for things to be different than they truly are. You enjoy life in the present, as it is. Having said all of this, it's important to remember that old habits are hard to break and it is a long path.
The 10 day course is just enough to get one established in the technique and it's a strong learning experience. Your mind guides you and slowly teaches you the level of patience that is really needed to remain at peace, inside and out. It's not aways pleasant, but after you fight through the hard parts, you learn. And when you learn it's through experience....like a child touching a hot stove for the first time. For those who are interested, here is a breakdown of my experience.
When I first started meditating I noticed that my mind is anything but calm. I concentrate for a few minutes and then start thinking about our next stop on the trip, or the words from some 80's song, or whether I can find chocolate dipped ice cream cones in Dehra Dun, or just about anything. I learned quickly that my mind, (like everyone else's) has a mind of it's own. The first three days are focused on "Ana Pana", awareness of respiration. As we focused all our attention on the breath as it comes in and goes out, our mind slowly becomes more focused. I came in to the course a little overconfident since I had past experience. I found that during the first few days I was continually judging the teaching. In my past course there had been a lot of instruction and a lot of breaks. In this course there are long periods of complete silence without breaks. I started to think "If only he would give more instructions, or have a little walking meditation...then I could concentrate." There are also periods of chanting in Pali. I initially found these very distracting (and a little humorous) and couldn't help but think, "If only this guy would shut up, or at least speak English...then I could concentrate." Sitting cross-legged is difficult for me especially with no back support, so I would constantly shift, craving for a more comfortable position. Even with all of these distractions (created in my own mind) I found that hour by hour, day by day, I could remain concentrated longer and longer. On the end of day 3 and morning of day 4 we focused our newly learned concentration on the small area above the upper lip and below the nostrils. I first felt only itching, but soon was able to feel a little stiffness, and at times some tingling.
On day 4 they taught Vipassana. With enhanced concentration we moved our awareness from the top of our head to our feet, observing every sensation along the way. I was surprised that I could feel sensations nearly everywhere. Sometimes it was just an itch, or some soreness from sitting, but occasionally I could feel a tingling sensation-like when your foot goes to sleep-but subtler. After the initial guided lesson we were told that during the three one-hour group sittings we should make a strong effort not to move in anyway or open our eyes. This sent me into an immediate state of panic. I had not found a comfortable way to sit and when pain developed I would shift to make it easier to concentrate. This panic gave rise to more skepticism about the teaching. "If only they would let me shift! I know what I'm doing so I'm just going to shift when I need to."
Into day 5 I could feel more and more sensations. They would go away as soon as a pain developed so naturally I would shift. Unnoticed to me, I had become very happy with my progress and ability to feel sensations nearly everywhere. During an interview with the teacher I proudly told him of my progress. He responded by asking if I was able to remain "equanimous" and said that he had seen me shifting position. "What!!! What is this equanimous stuff? Of course I shift, it makes it easier to concentrate, I know what I'm doing!!" My mind wandered into utter confusion. "Isn't this about feeling sensations? I can feel them better when I move to alleviate my pain." Unable to speak to anyone about this, I spiraled downward, no longer able to hold concentration which led to frustration. I felt like I was moving backwards. I couldn't feel sensations anymore and I couldn't sit for more then 15 minutes without moving. I begin to worry if I would make it through the course and felt a great sense of loss. Hours of silent pondering led me to the (somewhat obvious) realization that I hadn't lost anything. I still had the same mind...it was just a little "unequanimous". Soon it hit me...the sensations are just a tool, what I really must develop is the patience to deal with trials whether it is pain, or poor meditation, or what seems like slander from the teacher. I regained some peace and was able to reinforce it in meditation. For the first time I made a real effort not to shift. I didn't make the whole hour, but I could tell I was on the right track. I began to see that the teaching I had been so skeptical about might have some merit.
On day 6 I had new motivation. I decide not to move. The hour sittings were difficult. Pain would arise and my mind would begin to react. "If only I could move just a little!" I would tell my mind that the pain was just temporary, but I hadn't learned to fully believe it. By the end of the day I was able to sit through a full hour without moving, but as each hour finished I was exhausted. It was hard work, much harder then I had expected, but I was starting to feel something. If I didn't react, some of the pains got easier to deal with. They were still there, but didn't seem as threatening. In the discourse, Goenka (the teacher) verified that most students experience some pain on Day 6. He stated that it's old "Sankharas" (conditioned aversions) that must be released. Again my skepticism arose. "I'm not believing that one, they are just pains from sitting so long". He ensured us that we had passed a milestone and that if we learned to remain totally equanimous the pains would dissolve.
Jazzed by the discourse and my new ability to sit for 1 hour straight, I was ready to develop my equanimity. Day seven's first hour session started with the same pain. I was determined not to move, and this time I also directed my concentration to keep the mind calm. The pain started to fade...I began to feel subtle, pleasant sensations in most parts of my body. I found that as I moved my attention, the sensations flowed through my body. If they flowed through an area with pain, it was gone...completely gone. "Oh, this is wonderful!!!! There's a pain...zap...another one...zap." I began to get excited! "My meditation will be so wonderful from now on! I'm the king of sensations! Surely enlightenment is just around the corner". Even by the end of the first hour my experience started to change. A pain in my leg would not go away, but I was saved by the bell. I had an interview with the teacher where I told him of my wonderful experience (later I found out that Sejal overheard me and it caused her a bit of frustration...as any comparison of experiences is bound to do). He asked if I had remained equanimous and I gladly say "Yes!".
Of course, the rest of my day was TERRIBLE. The next sitting I felt some pain and cheerfully tried to "zap" it. There was no zap. The pain remained. I began to long for the pleasant sensations. "What did I do wrong? Will I have to go through the pain AGAIN? NOOOOOO!" This time it only took me a few hours to realize my folly. I had grown attached to the pleasant sensations. This attachment led to an unbalanced mind and I was unable to feel the sensations....there is no lying to your own mind. I started over, careful to give myself the needed time to regain equanimity. By the end of the day I could concentrate again. Yes there was pain, but I didn't let it get to me.
This roller coaster continued through days 8 and 9. I would experience small achievements leading to small attachments. I would quickly realize the attachments and regain equanimity. I found that, hour by hour, I was able to stay equanimous for longer. My pains did not turn into worries, I was able to stop dreading the pain. There was pain there now and again, but it didn't bother me, I would just observe it and move on. If I ever started getting agitated or frustrated I could feel it and would return my focus to my breath to slowly regain peace. It wasn't all roses. At some sittings pain or itching got the better of me and I opened my eyes. I could feel my frustration from these perceived failures and slowly, patiently learned to not let the frustration effect me. I also had moments of craving. One day 9 the teacher begain talking about the "free flow" of subtle vibrations. He stated that those who feel it should sweep the body and those who don't should continue working part by part. "Why can't I feel them! What's wrong with me? Am I behind the class?" I started again to long for these sensations, which only made things worse. I realized that I put a lot of pressure on myself. I had previously learned that feeling any particular type of sensation is not the goal, but still I felt frustrated by the thought that others might be "ahead" of me. This frustration got the better of me and I again had to start over and ponder what had happened. I learned that there is only one experience you can have, your own. Comparing this to what others might or might not experience will only lead to more mental anguish. Slowly, I learned that these worries are frivolous, and regained my peace.
Towards the end of day 9, I started to notice something strange. What I had viewed as leg pain would appear and stay for a short period and then disappear. I didn't move. It would return and stay for a shorter period and then disappear. "If this is merely muscle pain, why is it coming and going?" I thought most of the night about the pain that comes and goes. By this time I knew I was feeling positive results and was beginning to trust the teaching. I thought, "Maybe this sankhara thing is real?...Nah, Then why do I only feel pain in the places where I am sore?" I was meditating when I thought this and immediately I felt a subtle, new pain near my neck. I moved my concentration to it to investigate. It was below the skin and nothing I had noticed before, as I concentrated on it...boom! It escalated into an intense sensation, like pain but without the sharp edge. I remained calm, equanimous, and it continued. It moved slightly to just at the top of my spine and got even stronger. For forty minutes there was extreme intensity and then...poof...it was gone. I stood up and felt noticeably lighter. My smile seemed easier, natural. In fact, it was hard to frown.
This all happened right before the end of our vow of silence. I felt like I wanted to investigate further and was not quite ready to begin talking so I headed up to my meditation cell. On day 7 we were all given cells which are a lot like the name implies. They are small rooms no bigger than a closet with a small window, a light, and a meditation cushion. It may sound a little claustrophobic, but the privacy and silence it provides can be very helpful. I meditated for another fifty minutes and felt similar intense sensations on and off. My concentration and peace remained. When I heard the lunch bell I stood up feeling totally refreshed. I walked into the men's dining hall interested to vocally meet the men I had spent 9 days in close quarters with.
I had a little apprehension to talking again. As soon as I walked into the dinning hall, one of the Indian guys came up and said hi. The whole week I had called him "gawker" in my head since I often saw him staring at me from the corner of my eye. I found that even though earlier in the week I had found myself annoyed by his staring, I no longer had any harsh feelings towards him. I greeted him with a smile and answered all the usual questions happily...Where are you from? You like India?...etc.
I sat down at the table and started talking to the 4 other foreigners and some of the Indians. I found that everyone was very different then I had perceived them to be and everyone's experience had been totally different. I spoke to one student who said he had not gotten very much from the course. He was a westerner and had just recently graduated from high school and did not have any previous knowledge of the Buddha's teaching. Our teacher, Goenka, grew up in Burma with a Hindu background and had been following Buddhist teaching for the past 14 years. Although his discourses are very good, he is not of the same frame of mind as a westerner. He tries to remain nonsectarian, and is not interested in converting anyone to Buddhism. In fact, Buddha's teachings are completely against the forming of an organized religion. Vipassana is simply a method to help anyone and everyone become more familiar with the inter workings of their mind. Regardless of intent, it is difficult to jump cultural barriers. In parts of Goenka's teaching he "throws in" ideas such as reincarnation, past lives, and the final goal of Nirvana. He mentions them in passing since these concepts are part of his past and everyday understanding of the world.
To a westerner, these concepts can be a "deal breaker". They do not have to be believed, accepted, or even acknowledged in order to practice and gain benefit from Vipassana. However, after they are brought up in the teaching they can lead to a strong reaction from someone who is not accustom to this type of thought. This reaction leads to doubt in the teaching and a mental barrier to the practice. Everyone has attachment to their own background, their culture, their religion. Any threat to this, real or perceived, gives rise to defensiveness, aversion. "What's this Nirvana Stuff, I'm going to Heaven, this guy is trying to pollute my mind!" This is a strong and easy trap to fall into. I found myself thinking these thoughts at times. I feel fortunate that through my travels I have studied other religions and understand that the concepts of all religions are very similar. I often think of them as the same concepts and beliefs explained differently. A question of semantics. Concepts from the religions that Goenka has practiced naturally leak into his teaching. They do not need to be accepted or believed to practice Vipassana. Goenka tries continually to lead students away from this mental trap by mentioning that Vipassana is nonsectarian and that nothing should be blindly accepted. The whole point of Vipassana is to learn from your own experience, not trust the teachings of others. He says these things as an effort to help, however since he is from a very different background, I found that he unintentionally uses words or methods that can trigger a westerner's defense.
One example is the chanting. From the beginning of the course there is a tape of Goenka chanting in Pali that is turned on at the beginning and ending of meditation sessions. I now know that the chantings are the original discourses the Buddha used to teach Vipassana. Goenka, along with all Hindus and Buddhists, believes that just the vibrations given off by the Pali chanting are beneficial to the students. This can be a difficult concept for a westerner to accept. I was also initially turned off by these chantings, but was able to get past it. If someone reading this plans to take a course from Goenka, please believe that the intent behind the chantings is pure and simply comes from a different background.
Another example is the discription of Nirvana as the final goal of Vipassana. Nirvana is explained as nonexistence. "What! Nonexistence! Why would I want to not exist? I like my life!" Nirvana is a very difficult concept to explain or understand. Goenka brings it up as the final goal, but does not spend much time explaining it. I believe this can turn many people off because it blurs one's modivations. As a beginner and layman (not a monk or hermit) I prefer to see my goal as the alleviation of all suffering in this life.
So for anyone out there who might think about taking a course similar to this don't forget that you are your own master. Towards the end of the course Goenka states that any part of the teaching that seems unacceptable to you due to your own beliefs, you can throw it out. The only important teachings are those that you learn yourself from your own experience. I believe this should be stated on day one, so here it is.
The true test of this course is how it helps in daily life. Well after Sejal and I left the course we were thrown right back into India. The bus ride from the peaceful quiet meditation center was full of unnecessary honking and a little pushing. Our next bus ride to Mussourie had chaos during boarding and the usual elbows, bags, and crotches held too close to us. Through all of this we both smiled. It seemed different some how, as if each person had their reasons for each action. They didn't concern me even after the 15th bag hitting my head, there was no reason to feel threatened or wish for more space. It was how it was and we were happy. I plan to continue my meditation on my own. So far I have done one or two hour sittings each day. I have found that I am able to remain more calm, and I notice more subtle pleasures throughout the days. Meditating on my own is totally different then during the course. Whatever the reasons, in our hotel room meditating is a wonderful, peaceful experience once again.
We would love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Open Spirituality
Current Location: Rishikesh, Uttaranchal INDIA
We left Bikaner over a week ago and already I feel better. In Bikaner, we were both so exhausted. Joe was sick from a stomach bug for over a week and I had fever and chills. Not to mention, the heat (107 degrees!!!), the pollution, the noise and the stares from people were driving me crazy. We both used to love the frenzy and chaos. We used to love all the attention that we got from those who were curious about tourists who were a mixed racial couple. The things that we found fascinating about India, were now frustrating us.
We made our escape to Haridwar in Uttaranchal. The mighty Ganga River runs through the city and it's a holy pilgrimmage site for Hindus. I found myself at peace walking along the ghats. Merry families were taking a dip in the holy Ganga River to cleanse their souls. It wasn't an overly religious affair, but instead, the families were laughing and splashing around. As dusk came, a nightly aarti (prayer ceremony) took place on the main ghat. Drums and bells beat over the loud speaker. Thousands of people sang along to bhajans (religious songs). And flower candles were released down the rushing Ganga as an offering to the holy river.
That day, I remembered why I loved India so much. It's a beautiful thing that spirituality intertwines with everyday life here. In Western countries, religious ceremonies take place in the confines of a church or other religious institutions (except during holidays). However, in India, you see religion and spirituality everyday in every action people take. The shopkeeper who opens his shop every morning with a prayer. People praying to religious dieties along the streetside. Funeral processions carrying a dead body to the beating of the drums. Families taking holiday together to a religious pilgrimmage site. Everything is so open here that the effect of the spiritual power spreads to all who are exposed to it. Those days in Haridwar it reached out to me...because I was able to leave those bad feelings behind. I felt at peace once again. शांति.
We left Bikaner over a week ago and already I feel better. In Bikaner, we were both so exhausted. Joe was sick from a stomach bug for over a week and I had fever and chills. Not to mention, the heat (107 degrees!!!), the pollution, the noise and the stares from people were driving me crazy. We both used to love the frenzy and chaos. We used to love all the attention that we got from those who were curious about tourists who were a mixed racial couple. The things that we found fascinating about India, were now frustrating us.
We made our escape to Haridwar in Uttaranchal. The mighty Ganga River runs through the city and it's a holy pilgrimmage site for Hindus. I found myself at peace walking along the ghats. Merry families were taking a dip in the holy Ganga River to cleanse their souls. It wasn't an overly religious affair, but instead, the families were laughing and splashing around. As dusk came, a nightly aarti (prayer ceremony) took place on the main ghat. Drums and bells beat over the loud speaker. Thousands of people sang along to bhajans (religious songs). And flower candles were released down the rushing Ganga as an offering to the holy river.
That day, I remembered why I loved India so much. It's a beautiful thing that spirituality intertwines with everyday life here. In Western countries, religious ceremonies take place in the confines of a church or other religious institutions (except during holidays). However, in India, you see religion and spirituality everyday in every action people take. The shopkeeper who opens his shop every morning with a prayer. People praying to religious dieties along the streetside. Funeral processions carrying a dead body to the beating of the drums. Families taking holiday together to a religious pilgrimmage site. Everything is so open here that the effect of the spiritual power spreads to all who are exposed to it. Those days in Haridwar it reached out to me...because I was able to leave those bad feelings behind. I felt at peace once again. शांति.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Indian Pride
Current Location: Jaisalmer, Rajastan INDIA
I am always amazed at Indians and their pride. I have never been anywhere where people love and respect their country so much. There is a popular song in India where the chorus has a catchy tune that says, "I love my India...I love my India!" There have been countless times that I have chatted with people and danced to that song as they sing it with such passion. Occupation is another that people often express their pride on. On one occasion in Bundi, we were talking to a man on the street who proudly stated that he was an incense maker. He excitedly told us how he made the incense sticks and pointed the way to his shop. To any other person, this may seem like a menial job. But to him, it was his pride and joy.
However, there was an instance when Indian pride backfired a bit. One night after dinner, I was craving dessert. Normally an Indian meethai (sweets) would suffice, but this time, I wanted something different. I was in luck in Jaisalmer because there was a restaurant in the main square of the fort that had a huge sign with a bold statement "World Famous Apple Pie". We decided to give it a try! When it arrived on our table, it looked better than it tasted. It was nothing but a couple of rotis (tortillas) with very sweet apple sauce in between. Being a blunt Gujarati who is picky about her food, I immediately called the waiter over and said, "Sir, this apple pie is very bad." He head wobbled angrily as he said, "Oh no madame, the apple pie is VERY good." Joe stood up for my claim and stated, "In fact, this is the worst apple pie we have ever had." The waiter's head wobbled some more and he said, "No, it is homemade apple pie. It is very good." He avoided any other complaints by walking away swiftly. And we ended up forking over a whole 70 rupees ($1.75) for the terrible pie!
I am always amazed at Indians and their pride. I have never been anywhere where people love and respect their country so much. There is a popular song in India where the chorus has a catchy tune that says, "I love my India...I love my India!" There have been countless times that I have chatted with people and danced to that song as they sing it with such passion. Occupation is another that people often express their pride on. On one occasion in Bundi, we were talking to a man on the street who proudly stated that he was an incense maker. He excitedly told us how he made the incense sticks and pointed the way to his shop. To any other person, this may seem like a menial job. But to him, it was his pride and joy.
However, there was an instance when Indian pride backfired a bit. One night after dinner, I was craving dessert. Normally an Indian meethai (sweets) would suffice, but this time, I wanted something different. I was in luck in Jaisalmer because there was a restaurant in the main square of the fort that had a huge sign with a bold statement "World Famous Apple Pie". We decided to give it a try! When it arrived on our table, it looked better than it tasted. It was nothing but a couple of rotis (tortillas) with very sweet apple sauce in between. Being a blunt Gujarati who is picky about her food, I immediately called the waiter over and said, "Sir, this apple pie is very bad." He head wobbled angrily as he said, "Oh no madame, the apple pie is VERY good." Joe stood up for my claim and stated, "In fact, this is the worst apple pie we have ever had." The waiter's head wobbled some more and he said, "No, it is homemade apple pie. It is very good." He avoided any other complaints by walking away swiftly. And we ended up forking over a whole 70 rupees ($1.75) for the terrible pie!
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