The week has gone by and I am just about to start another program; basic training for Shambhala. Monday I found myself with a ‘job’ in the kitchen. For most of the week I ended up sweeping, moping, cutting up an assortment of vegetables and fruits, and getting the food line ready. It was great! I really enjoyed working in the kitchen, and will probably pick it up again next week. Last night, the rain/snow began. Today, we have collected a good few inches, and I’m not prepared. When I was packing I still had the 80-degree weather lingering on my skin. Two pairs of shorts and some ridiculous pants were all that accompanied me. Now, trudging through the snow in some sneakers, jeans, and a raincoat, I didn’t feel good about my clothes situation.
My daily routine has become second nature: make it to the dining room by 7:30 for breakfast, eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch (the one thing I’ve discovered with an acceptable amount of sugar) maybe some eggs, busy myself until 12:30, lunch, busy myself again until 6:30 eat, meditate usually, then sleep. Now lunch I’ve become very accustomed to. They have a Noble Silence for 15 minutes, no talking and very relaxing. But usually I just end up awkwardly staring at someone with my mouth full, or theirs, or both. None preferred. But I am excited to start a new program again. My days are starting to drift, as is my mind.
April 23, 2010
Birds Symphony
The snow drifts peacefully
Back to the earth
Happy to be reunited
With it’s mother once again
The bird’s thunderous applause
Reaches our ears with their songs.
They cry for joy that these two
Can embrace again
How easy it would be
To let myself fall into another’s embrace
Group together, gather myself
Then let gravity do the rest
To merely lose myself
In the white abyss of my brothers and sisters
As we all make our journey
Back home, to the safe wet earth
Just to be able to let myself melt
Soak into the wet dirt
And lose my solidity
Ah, subliminal
But, it is not so
We humans do not fall so gracefully
It’s a hard climb up
And the peak is only in our imagination
The snow crunched beneath my shoes
An excellent union
The two create a symphony
And we merely hear a crunch
But the birds can hear it
They hear their song and create their own
Inspiration fuels their small bodies
In the cold and snowy spring air
The bird's symphony will
Group our world together
Unite a discombobulated force
And gently brush our eyes close
Back to the earth
Happy to be reunited
With it’s mother once again
The bird’s thunderous applause
Reaches our ears with their songs.
They cry for joy that these two
Can embrace again
How easy it would be
To let myself fall into another’s embrace
Group together, gather myself
Then let gravity do the rest
To merely lose myself
In the white abyss of my brothers and sisters
As we all make our journey
Back home, to the safe wet earth
Just to be able to let myself melt
Soak into the wet dirt
And lose my solidity
Ah, subliminal
But, it is not so
We humans do not fall so gracefully
It’s a hard climb up
And the peak is only in our imagination
The snow crunched beneath my shoes
An excellent union
The two create a symphony
And we merely hear a crunch
But the birds can hear it
They hear their song and create their own
Inspiration fuels their small bodies
In the cold and snowy spring air
The bird's symphony will
Group our world together
Unite a discombobulated force
And gently brush our eyes close
April 20, 2010
thoughts
Ah, can you feel that
The beautiful sun upon your skin
Can you hear the rays
Making their way to earth
We run, run away
Run from our fears, our dreams
Our dreams are twisted into nightmares
And those ugly demons rear their heads
But those nightmares are real
And they’re beautiful and true
Turn around, face those demons
Their bark is worse than their bite
They don’t want to bite,
They want a kiss, a hug, a laugh
Those demons are your friends
And hell is merely a hot shower
Let the water cascade down your body
Let the water soak through
Soak into your blood
And create a flood
Flood your body, your nerves, your senses
Feel the water invade your very being
Allow those nightmares to becomes your dreams
And bask under the moonlight
The beautiful sun upon your skin
Can you hear the rays
Making their way to earth
We run, run away
Run from our fears, our dreams
Our dreams are twisted into nightmares
And those ugly demons rear their heads
But those nightmares are real
And they’re beautiful and true
Turn around, face those demons
Their bark is worse than their bite
They don’t want to bite,
They want a kiss, a hug, a laugh
Those demons are your friends
And hell is merely a hot shower
Let the water cascade down your body
Let the water soak through
Soak into your blood
And create a flood
Flood your body, your nerves, your senses
Feel the water invade your very being
Allow those nightmares to becomes your dreams
And bask under the moonlight
April 19, 2010
A nice moment
For the habits course, there was one moment during the third day that really resonated with me. We were doing a short meditation. Halfway through my body started shaking. I leaned against my arms and they started to shake as well. Soon I became light headed and nauseous. Throughout this wonderful moment I was having, Joe was talking us through this excellent technique. I soon heard this inspirational music, something about victory or completion, and it sounded like church music; the kind of music where the huge chorus is singing this very inspirational song and everyone is getting emotion and you have the old woman pounding against her heart and crying. Well, that's what I remember from the movies anyway. This was that moment. I opened my eyes and was surprised. There were a few people swaying and bouncing with the music while staying in the Buddha position with their eyes closed with huge smiles plastered on their faces. Others were swaying while looking filled with an infinite amount of joy. One man across from me on the other side of the room was crying. He was was shaking with the sobs, his eyes were closed, and his face was red. A few others were also crying tears of joy. All this emotion, this love and happiness and liberation, it was... moving. Just seeing this level of emotion brought me to tears. Soon 'Celebration' resonated throughout out the room. Half of the room got up and started dancing. Others embraced strangers around them. Couples hugged. I laughed, I laughed with joy and happiness. What else could I do? All of this love and freedom and liberation, flying through the air. It was fantastic. Sublime.
SMC
I have been in Colorado for a few days. I wasn't expecting this level of intensity. The first day I was here, before I even unpacked my bags, I was sitting in a lecture. My first program is Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself, with Dr. Joe. I soon found out that I was probably the only one who was here for the hell of it. Everyone else was enamored with Dr. Joe. He was in "What the bleep do we know," which I never saw, and wrote some books and other important stuff. After talking with us, he sat the level 1 people in front of a movie for an hour and I could barely stay awake. My head hit the pillow an hour later and I was out. The next day was intense. It was a lecture, all day with an hour break for breakfast, lunch, then dinner. And he was fascinating.
He constantly said, "nerves that fire together, wire together." He talked about the brain, and the nerve endings that latch onto each other, and release each other. He talked about emotions and feelings and thoughts and actions. Thoughts create feelings that create thoughts that create feelings. If you stop the thought from entering the body, then you stop the feeling. Everything that he was saying was fascinating. Of course, I zoned out on a regular basis; a well practiced skill after being in high school for the last four years. And we did a meditation where he talked about the different brain waves. There's high beta: fight or flight instincts, can barely think. Mid beta: taking a test. Low beta: reading a book. Then alpha: relaxed, no analytical thinking (beginning of meditation). After comes theta: deep meditation, or sleeping state. Finally comes delta: deep, dreamless and restorative sleep. Most of us when we fall asleep go strait from beta to delta waves. But, if we start to calm the mind and ease into the alpha or theta waves, then you can tap into the unconscious mind. Unconscious mind means behaviors or habitual patterns, and therein lies the problem.
It's hard to explain and probably won't make much sense unless I go into a lot of detail and explanation, which I'm not going to do.
But after the session, and I had time to think without processing so much information, I felt... calm and happy. And I've been sleeping. If you know me well, then you know that I don't sleep. Either I can't fall asleep, I wake up continuously throughout the night, or I'll wake up at 4 and stay awake. But while I've been here; sleeping 10 hours, no problem. Today, not knowing what to do with my time, or really minding, I walked up to the stupa here at Shambhala, a 20 minute walk. Oh, that's another thing. Usually when I have a lot of time on my hands, and I don't know what to do with it, I panic. I feel like I need to fill in that empty space with something, whether it's a mindless drive or a brainless TV program. But now, I gladly accept the free time. There are so many people here that are happy to talk or hang out. Everyone I see, seems so happy and content. I never mind just walking up to someone and introducing myself. The program at first was a bit odd. I felt like I was at summer camp for old people. Fifty-years-old seemed young to these people. It seemed like I was the only one under forty. Oh well, I didn't mind. I really enjoyed it actually. I've always been comfortable around adults because I usually end up having the most meaningful discussions with them; and here has been no different.
Anyway, back to the stupa. I walked up, kind of practicing walking mediation but not really minding if I got distracted. I walked around the stupa and sat down cross-legged inside. My anxiety ruined the moment and I walked back down shortly after.
Now, I have found my niche. A small library with two shelves of books, upstairs in the main conference building.
All in all, I feel comfortable. I have made new friends with staff and others in the same program. Some have left and some have stayed. I have made plans to start my lucid dreaming practices early. I have a lucid dreaming program the weekend after next and I might as well start. I'll start journaling my dreams, which I've never done, reminding myself I'm awake, and waking myself at odd hours trying to do who knows what. Maybe I'll just end up screwing up my sleeping schedule. I've got nothing else to do, and it's awesome!
I have four days until my next program: a level one training program for Shambhala. I'm happy to have the four days, maybe I can find someone who will want to play chess with me.
He constantly said, "nerves that fire together, wire together." He talked about the brain, and the nerve endings that latch onto each other, and release each other. He talked about emotions and feelings and thoughts and actions. Thoughts create feelings that create thoughts that create feelings. If you stop the thought from entering the body, then you stop the feeling. Everything that he was saying was fascinating. Of course, I zoned out on a regular basis; a well practiced skill after being in high school for the last four years. And we did a meditation where he talked about the different brain waves. There's high beta: fight or flight instincts, can barely think. Mid beta: taking a test. Low beta: reading a book. Then alpha: relaxed, no analytical thinking (beginning of meditation). After comes theta: deep meditation, or sleeping state. Finally comes delta: deep, dreamless and restorative sleep. Most of us when we fall asleep go strait from beta to delta waves. But, if we start to calm the mind and ease into the alpha or theta waves, then you can tap into the unconscious mind. Unconscious mind means behaviors or habitual patterns, and therein lies the problem.
It's hard to explain and probably won't make much sense unless I go into a lot of detail and explanation, which I'm not going to do.
But after the session, and I had time to think without processing so much information, I felt... calm and happy. And I've been sleeping. If you know me well, then you know that I don't sleep. Either I can't fall asleep, I wake up continuously throughout the night, or I'll wake up at 4 and stay awake. But while I've been here; sleeping 10 hours, no problem. Today, not knowing what to do with my time, or really minding, I walked up to the stupa here at Shambhala, a 20 minute walk. Oh, that's another thing. Usually when I have a lot of time on my hands, and I don't know what to do with it, I panic. I feel like I need to fill in that empty space with something, whether it's a mindless drive or a brainless TV program. But now, I gladly accept the free time. There are so many people here that are happy to talk or hang out. Everyone I see, seems so happy and content. I never mind just walking up to someone and introducing myself. The program at first was a bit odd. I felt like I was at summer camp for old people. Fifty-years-old seemed young to these people. It seemed like I was the only one under forty. Oh well, I didn't mind. I really enjoyed it actually. I've always been comfortable around adults because I usually end up having the most meaningful discussions with them; and here has been no different.
Anyway, back to the stupa. I walked up, kind of practicing walking mediation but not really minding if I got distracted. I walked around the stupa and sat down cross-legged inside. My anxiety ruined the moment and I walked back down shortly after.
Now, I have found my niche. A small library with two shelves of books, upstairs in the main conference building.
All in all, I feel comfortable. I have made new friends with staff and others in the same program. Some have left and some have stayed. I have made plans to start my lucid dreaming practices early. I have a lucid dreaming program the weekend after next and I might as well start. I'll start journaling my dreams, which I've never done, reminding myself I'm awake, and waking myself at odd hours trying to do who knows what. Maybe I'll just end up screwing up my sleeping schedule. I've got nothing else to do, and it's awesome!
I have four days until my next program: a level one training program for Shambhala. I'm happy to have the four days, maybe I can find someone who will want to play chess with me.
April 13, 2010
Back to Reality
I was back in the valley that I called home, but the feelings aren't there for it. I was excited to see old friends and I couldn't keep myself away from the school I feel more at home at than anywhere else. I had four days before I was suppose to pack my bags again and set out for Colorado. The next part of my project is to go to the Shambhala Mountain Center, stay there for a few weeks and take three programs. Four days to prepare didn't feel like enough.
But I have returned to the civilization that is familiar, and it all felt unfamiliar because it was too familiar. I started doing the same things I had done before I left; got in the same car, drove the same roads, talked the same way, dressed in the same clothes, watched the same shows, bought the same food. And it all felt wrong. The day I got back, I told my mother that I was seeking a new roof. Now, I was unsure of where I'd even be sleeping at night. But that didn't scare me, I had faced much worse in the last month. And I was 18 now, an adult. I left a girl and returned as a woman. But this power, or title, bestowed upon me by my society only made me feel more like a child. With this new ability to leave or move around, this new sense of freedom and mobility, I didn't know what to do. I was afraid of what I'd do with the power, not being taught how to handle it with responsibility or maturity. But I taught myself that it was not as important as I was making it out to be. So, I bought a gallon of milk, some meat, cheese, and english muffins, and I went back to an empty house and slept after listening and responding to a growling stomach. Another part of me was growling as well, seeking satisfaction, seeking for nourishment. And that voice will be feed when I have the proper food to prepare.
But I have returned to the civilization that is familiar, and it all felt unfamiliar because it was too familiar. I started doing the same things I had done before I left; got in the same car, drove the same roads, talked the same way, dressed in the same clothes, watched the same shows, bought the same food. And it all felt wrong. The day I got back, I told my mother that I was seeking a new roof. Now, I was unsure of where I'd even be sleeping at night. But that didn't scare me, I had faced much worse in the last month. And I was 18 now, an adult. I left a girl and returned as a woman. But this power, or title, bestowed upon me by my society only made me feel more like a child. With this new ability to leave or move around, this new sense of freedom and mobility, I didn't know what to do. I was afraid of what I'd do with the power, not being taught how to handle it with responsibility or maturity. But I taught myself that it was not as important as I was making it out to be. So, I bought a gallon of milk, some meat, cheese, and english muffins, and I went back to an empty house and slept after listening and responding to a growling stomach. Another part of me was growling as well, seeking satisfaction, seeking for nourishment. And that voice will be feed when I have the proper food to prepare.
April 12, 2010
Fire
Slice me open and you will see
It is not water that runs
Through my veins,
But fire
A fire is raging through my body
A fire fueled by desperation
Determination, exasperation,
Exhaustion
I am exhausted,
Tired from a days labor
But this day goes on and on
Out of my control
The ropes attached to my life
Slip through my fingers
Mercilessly burning
The fragile skin
I have something to give to this world
Something young, youthful, beautiful.
I beg of you, I plead you
Please hear my cry
I kneel on the sharp rocks,
Cutting my knees.
My stance is pathetic,
I couldn’t get lower
I let the blood go
I let the fire burn my skin
I let it trickle across my flesh
And bleed into the ground
This sacrifice, this surrendering
Will this show you I care?
Will this show you that you’re worth it?
You are worth it, your soul priceless
A piece of paper has been passed around
Read it, remember it
If you can’t, don’t worry
I am here for you
I will sit beside your bed
And whisper the words to you.
In the quiet night,
I will sing to you, and lull you to serenity
Stand up and fight, fight for your destiny
And your infinite potential
If we do not fight
Then we are undeserving.
Fight for all that you have,
Could have, and will have in life
We need pain for pleasure
We need chaos for peace
Claw through the pain and chaos
Rip your fingernails off and cut your palms
Let the blood from your hands
Drip down your arms
Let the fire rage across your body
Welcome the release
Your body needs the cleanse
Cleanse your mind
With your body
That what this is all about, can’t you see
This fire will burn its way through your skin
Through your flesh, your veins, your organs
Your bones, your marrow, your soul
This fire will burn your soul to ashes
We need to destroy that beautiful heart
And rise from the ashes to breathe
Cleanse your mind with your body
Let the blood fuel your soul
Let the fire fuel your bonfire
Celebrate your liberation
Celebrate your life
This fire will burn across the lands
Starting with your heart
It is not water that runs
Through my veins,
But fire
A fire is raging through my body
A fire fueled by desperation
Determination, exasperation,
Exhaustion
I am exhausted,
Tired from a days labor
But this day goes on and on
Out of my control
The ropes attached to my life
Slip through my fingers
Mercilessly burning
The fragile skin
I have something to give to this world
Something young, youthful, beautiful.
I beg of you, I plead you
Please hear my cry
I kneel on the sharp rocks,
Cutting my knees.
My stance is pathetic,
I couldn’t get lower
I let the blood go
I let the fire burn my skin
I let it trickle across my flesh
And bleed into the ground
This sacrifice, this surrendering
Will this show you I care?
Will this show you that you’re worth it?
You are worth it, your soul priceless
A piece of paper has been passed around
Read it, remember it
If you can’t, don’t worry
I am here for you
I will sit beside your bed
And whisper the words to you.
In the quiet night,
I will sing to you, and lull you to serenity
Stand up and fight, fight for your destiny
And your infinite potential
If we do not fight
Then we are undeserving.
Fight for all that you have,
Could have, and will have in life
We need pain for pleasure
We need chaos for peace
Claw through the pain and chaos
Rip your fingernails off and cut your palms
Let the blood from your hands
Drip down your arms
Let the fire rage across your body
Welcome the release
Your body needs the cleanse
Cleanse your mind
With your body
That what this is all about, can’t you see
This fire will burn its way through your skin
Through your flesh, your veins, your organs
Your bones, your marrow, your soul
This fire will burn your soul to ashes
We need to destroy that beautiful heart
And rise from the ashes to breathe
Cleanse your mind with your body
Let the blood fuel your soul
Let the fire fuel your bonfire
Celebrate your liberation
Celebrate your life
This fire will burn across the lands
Starting with your heart
April 10, 2010
Leaving
Well, I’ve left Bhutan. Yesterday was uneventful and I barely left my bed. I couldn’t eat anything besides a few bites here, a few bites there. I think I finished a banana once. I had to travel for over 40 hours the next day. Bring it on. I had a bit of energy to use before I slept, if I was lucky. I showered, almost fainting when I put in conditioner. Then my fears got to me, what if my father or stepmother had to peal me off the floor of the bathroom, naked, and figure out what to do with me? There was no way something that mortifying was going to happen. With more determination, I stumbled my way across the grass and made the five-minute walk to the hotel to get on the Internet for a bit. Probably wasn’t worth it.
A new morning starts and only a few bites of food to start the day, great. I could barely hold my head up as we drove to the airport. But as soon as I needed to get through security with three bags, and 10 kilos overweight, I rallied. I slipped into the seat right next to Diane and moments later we took off. I gazed over the land that had become home over the last few weeks. I was filled with sadness; I was leaving already. It seemed like it took an eternity, or a day. The time went by incredibly slowly, but it also passed in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, the feelings were forgotten quickly when a wave of nausea swept over me and the plane bounced and dipped through the air. My head pounded, bile rose to the back of my throat, and my chest cramped. Before I knew it, tires were screeching against asphalt. We couldn’t be there yet; it was at least a three-hour flight. No, I was crushed to find out we had only stopped in India to refuel. We were in India!? The country wasn’t as exciting as I had expected looking through a plane window. Frank Sinatra started playing when I was lying on the plane and I found it a bit odd. Then I heard, "Catch a falling and put in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day." I had already caught a falling star during my travels. I pulled it out and let the light fall on me. My body felt lighter, as did my heart. We finally reached Bangkok, and the 100 degree air and 100% humidity hit me like a ton of bricks.
The rest was a blur. I got to Tokyo after a night in Bangkok and said my 'goodbye's' to John and Diane. They were off to Seattle while I was on my way to LA. My flight was delayed and I didn't end up getting to LA 2 hours later than scheduled. I was in LAX for 8 hours before I could find a flight to Salt Lake City. Of course, that flight was 40 minutes late, and I missed my flight in Salt Lake by 15 minutes. I sprinted from gate E to A and could barely hold myself together. When I found out I missed the last flight of the day and had to spend the night in Salt Lake, I started crying uncontrollably. I've made it all this way, only an hour's plane ride from my bed, and I couldn't do it. The airline lady didn't know what to do with me. I made my way to the lady's room in shame of my outburst. I didn't even have to energy to leave. I found a bench next to Internationally Security and tried to sleep under the fluorescent lights.
When I touched down in Hailey, I wasn't even excited. I was delirious.
60 hours of traveling and I was numb.
A new morning starts and only a few bites of food to start the day, great. I could barely hold my head up as we drove to the airport. But as soon as I needed to get through security with three bags, and 10 kilos overweight, I rallied. I slipped into the seat right next to Diane and moments later we took off. I gazed over the land that had become home over the last few weeks. I was filled with sadness; I was leaving already. It seemed like it took an eternity, or a day. The time went by incredibly slowly, but it also passed in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, the feelings were forgotten quickly when a wave of nausea swept over me and the plane bounced and dipped through the air. My head pounded, bile rose to the back of my throat, and my chest cramped. Before I knew it, tires were screeching against asphalt. We couldn’t be there yet; it was at least a three-hour flight. No, I was crushed to find out we had only stopped in India to refuel. We were in India!? The country wasn’t as exciting as I had expected looking through a plane window. Frank Sinatra started playing when I was lying on the plane and I found it a bit odd. Then I heard, "Catch a falling and put in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day." I had already caught a falling star during my travels. I pulled it out and let the light fall on me. My body felt lighter, as did my heart. We finally reached Bangkok, and the 100 degree air and 100% humidity hit me like a ton of bricks.
The rest was a blur. I got to Tokyo after a night in Bangkok and said my 'goodbye's' to John and Diane. They were off to Seattle while I was on my way to LA. My flight was delayed and I didn't end up getting to LA 2 hours later than scheduled. I was in LAX for 8 hours before I could find a flight to Salt Lake City. Of course, that flight was 40 minutes late, and I missed my flight in Salt Lake by 15 minutes. I sprinted from gate E to A and could barely hold myself together. When I found out I missed the last flight of the day and had to spend the night in Salt Lake, I started crying uncontrollably. I've made it all this way, only an hour's plane ride from my bed, and I couldn't do it. The airline lady didn't know what to do with me. I made my way to the lady's room in shame of my outburst. I didn't even have to energy to leave. I found a bench next to Internationally Security and tried to sleep under the fluorescent lights.
When I touched down in Hailey, I wasn't even excited. I was delirious.
60 hours of traveling and I was numb.
April 8, 2010
Such Great Heights
We got an early start to a very big day; bigger than I would ever realize. I hopped into the car and remained there for another two hours. We were driving up to Chele La Pass, the highest summit in Bhutan reachable by car. Our car weaved and swerved, making switchback after switchback.
I stepped out of the car and was awed by the hundreds and hundreds of prayer flags. The five colors were everywhere; red, blue, green, yellow, and white. Especially white, white was everywhere. Each color represented an element, and each person is associated to an element. I tried to find out what my element was when I was there, but you have to see an astrologer, know a whole bunch of information about your birth and so on. (This is the proper way to determine your element in their culture.) Different people said different elements for different colors, so I never quite found out exactly which colors are for what elements. Some were, white-clouds, blue-water, green-wood, blue-sky, white-air, green-earth, red-fire.
Prayer flags at the pass
More prayer flags
Me in front of some prayer flags
Prayer flags lining the entire ridge-line
Oh, when we first got to the summit, we ran into a shepard with his herd of yaks. Our car scared the yaks and they started running back down the hill when the shepard needed them going on the other side. Let's say, it was probably good that I couldn't understand what he was saying, I have a feeling that a hefty amount of curse words were flying from his mouth.
A yak (whenever Karma saw one of these he would say, "All they do is yak yak yak" then break into a fit of laughter. It was funny the first couple of times.)
From the pass we started hiking across the mountains and into the forest. The forest was beautiful, I felt like I had just stepped into Jurrasic Park. I broke ahead of the group and started messing around on my own. After a few minutes I had a great idea. I darted off the path and hid behind the roots of a fallen tree. I was so excited I could hardly sit still. This was my plan: I would hid in the woods, wait for the guide, my dad, and step-mom to walk by, wait a bit, and then follow them. This was going to be great! First Karma passed, followed by the duo. I waited and crept from my hiding spot. I followed them for probably the next 30 minutes or so. I stayed in a crouch and would sneak behind them. When there was a clearing I would wait for them to go, run across, then slow down and wait for them to get ahead again. It was going great and I could see the nunnery through the trees that was ultimately our destination.
Kila Nunnery, tucked into the hillside
Oh, we were making our way to Kila nunnery, a nunnery only accessible by an hour hike through the hills from the pass. Everything at the nunnery, including the nunnery, got there either on someone's back, or an animals back (probably yaks). Tango Monastery had a similar location. Unfortunately, when we were just about at the nunnery, my step-mother spotted me by happening to turn around when I was exposed and unprepared. None the less, I continued with my game until we got to the stupa marking the beginning of the nunnery.
A few nuns I met at the nunnery
The nuns were all very nice and offered us tea when we got there. I was excited to have some 'nunnery tea' as I hadn't had it since I stayed at Ziluhka. It was oddly comforting and reminded me of the familiar. Most of the nuns were gone when we were there. They had gone to Nepal for some ceremony or ritual. I was pleasantly surprised to find some of the nuns playing badminton when I arrived. They seemed to be having a great time and enjoying themselves after lunch.
Two nun girls playing badminton
The nunnery was settled into the side of the hills, and was almost completely protected if it rained by the towering rock walls above. The nunnery is one of the seven oldest in the country. There were a few nuns in meditation and one was just about to come out of a three year meditation. We hiked down from the nunnery and I did not continue my spying/sneaking mission since they had already discovered me, and we came back to the road. From there we got on some bikes and started down the pass. At first I really didn't like the idea. The road was the perfect size, for one car that is. When two cars passed each other, usually both had to have at least have two tires on the dirt. With hairpin turns every 50 yards, I was not very excited to whip around one of these corners and come face to face with a car. And you had to stay on the left side, as would the cars driving down. I forgot this frequently, used to driving on the right side of the road. All in all, the bike ride was incredible. The sights were beautiful, there were very few cars, and I was alive.
When we got back to the hotel I was sore and exhausted. Ah, a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. After the bath, I was even more exhausted. I was delirious and dehydrated. I quickly passed out on the floor. Nausea started to hit shortly after and I passed if off as fatigue. A few minutes later, I was leaning over the stone wall outside the room, puking on the beautifully manicured lawn. A few hours later, I had relieved my body of everything solid, liquid and gas, lost all energy, eight pounds, and any motivation. (I'll spare you a picture of me with my head in a toilet).
I stepped out of the car and was awed by the hundreds and hundreds of prayer flags. The five colors were everywhere; red, blue, green, yellow, and white. Especially white, white was everywhere. Each color represented an element, and each person is associated to an element. I tried to find out what my element was when I was there, but you have to see an astrologer, know a whole bunch of information about your birth and so on. (This is the proper way to determine your element in their culture.) Different people said different elements for different colors, so I never quite found out exactly which colors are for what elements. Some were, white-clouds, blue-water, green-wood, blue-sky, white-air, green-earth, red-fire.
Prayer flags at the pass
More prayer flags
Me in front of some prayer flags
Prayer flags lining the entire ridge-line
Oh, when we first got to the summit, we ran into a shepard with his herd of yaks. Our car scared the yaks and they started running back down the hill when the shepard needed them going on the other side. Let's say, it was probably good that I couldn't understand what he was saying, I have a feeling that a hefty amount of curse words were flying from his mouth.
A yak (whenever Karma saw one of these he would say, "All they do is yak yak yak" then break into a fit of laughter. It was funny the first couple of times.)
From the pass we started hiking across the mountains and into the forest. The forest was beautiful, I felt like I had just stepped into Jurrasic Park. I broke ahead of the group and started messing around on my own. After a few minutes I had a great idea. I darted off the path and hid behind the roots of a fallen tree. I was so excited I could hardly sit still. This was my plan: I would hid in the woods, wait for the guide, my dad, and step-mom to walk by, wait a bit, and then follow them. This was going to be great! First Karma passed, followed by the duo. I waited and crept from my hiding spot. I followed them for probably the next 30 minutes or so. I stayed in a crouch and would sneak behind them. When there was a clearing I would wait for them to go, run across, then slow down and wait for them to get ahead again. It was going great and I could see the nunnery through the trees that was ultimately our destination.
Kila Nunnery, tucked into the hillside
Oh, we were making our way to Kila nunnery, a nunnery only accessible by an hour hike through the hills from the pass. Everything at the nunnery, including the nunnery, got there either on someone's back, or an animals back (probably yaks). Tango Monastery had a similar location. Unfortunately, when we were just about at the nunnery, my step-mother spotted me by happening to turn around when I was exposed and unprepared. None the less, I continued with my game until we got to the stupa marking the beginning of the nunnery.
A few nuns I met at the nunnery
The nuns were all very nice and offered us tea when we got there. I was excited to have some 'nunnery tea' as I hadn't had it since I stayed at Ziluhka. It was oddly comforting and reminded me of the familiar. Most of the nuns were gone when we were there. They had gone to Nepal for some ceremony or ritual. I was pleasantly surprised to find some of the nuns playing badminton when I arrived. They seemed to be having a great time and enjoying themselves after lunch.
Two nun girls playing badminton
The nunnery was settled into the side of the hills, and was almost completely protected if it rained by the towering rock walls above. The nunnery is one of the seven oldest in the country. There were a few nuns in meditation and one was just about to come out of a three year meditation. We hiked down from the nunnery and I did not continue my spying/sneaking mission since they had already discovered me, and we came back to the road. From there we got on some bikes and started down the pass. At first I really didn't like the idea. The road was the perfect size, for one car that is. When two cars passed each other, usually both had to have at least have two tires on the dirt. With hairpin turns every 50 yards, I was not very excited to whip around one of these corners and come face to face with a car. And you had to stay on the left side, as would the cars driving down. I forgot this frequently, used to driving on the right side of the road. All in all, the bike ride was incredible. The sights were beautiful, there were very few cars, and I was alive.
When we got back to the hotel I was sore and exhausted. Ah, a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. After the bath, I was even more exhausted. I was delirious and dehydrated. I quickly passed out on the floor. Nausea started to hit shortly after and I passed if off as fatigue. A few minutes later, I was leaning over the stone wall outside the room, puking on the beautifully manicured lawn. A few hours later, I had relieved my body of everything solid, liquid and gas, lost all energy, eight pounds, and any motivation. (I'll spare you a picture of me with my head in a toilet).
April 7, 2010
Day 2 in Paro
We woke up early, ate, and were out the door. Well, they were. I rested until about noon since my stomach was bothering me. I met up with them at Bhutan's National Museum, Ta Dzong. The museum was big, full of Bhutanese history, and after an hour, dreadfully boring. The building was created like a Conch Shell, to wind down and down through each floor. And of course, we walked through the building clockwise. I found out that afternoon why clockwise is such an important idea to them. Apparently Buddha walked clockwise, and so they must follow in his footsteps. Got it.
Me in front of Ta Dzong
After a traditional Bhutanese lunch, hot chile soup and all, we made our way to Rinpung Dzong, or Fortress on a Heap of Jewels. This was one of the largest Fortresses in Paro and is now both a government building and a school for young monks.
The Fortress, Rinpung Dzong
Our guide Karma. Karma is wearing the traditional Gho and a white scarf, required for all men entering the Fortress. Before I took the picture he said, "Yes, I'll pose like Brad Pitt!"
Two monks studying at Rinpung Dzong
Our new guide Karma was an adjustment. He was a very jovial man, and he laughed at everything, including himself. After a couple dozen of his laughing fits, I had the slight urge to hit him, hard. I especially didn't like it when he would laugh hysterically, look at me (not laughing) and ask "happy, happy?" No. At first I was not happy. He was too happy, his happy attitude was dampening my day, especially after walking around four floors of the boring national museum looking at historical items and stuffed birds. But by the end of the day, I started to appreciate his upbeat attitude. Of course his constant laughing had my 'limited good mood behavior' dwindling at a rapid rate. If I had a relatively good nights sleep, and feed at a constant rate, I could keep up a good mood until well into the afternoon. He shot that time line right to hell with his manic fits and had my dark, teenage mood rearing its ugly head before lunch.
After the museums and lunch, we headed to Kyichu Lhakhang, one of the oldest temples in Bhutan. When we arrived, beautiful orange trees surrounded the temple. Our guide told us that a sacred ceremony was taking place. We could hear loud bells ringing and muttered chanting. We talked around the to the center of the temple and found dozens of people sitting in prayer.
Buddhists and Bhutanese sitting in prayer.
I was worried about offending the Bhutanese by taking pictures, but most didn't seem to mind. This man in particular was very excited to have his picture taken.
Me in front of Ta Dzong
After a traditional Bhutanese lunch, hot chile soup and all, we made our way to Rinpung Dzong, or Fortress on a Heap of Jewels. This was one of the largest Fortresses in Paro and is now both a government building and a school for young monks.
The Fortress, Rinpung Dzong
Our guide Karma. Karma is wearing the traditional Gho and a white scarf, required for all men entering the Fortress. Before I took the picture he said, "Yes, I'll pose like Brad Pitt!"
Two monks studying at Rinpung Dzong
Our new guide Karma was an adjustment. He was a very jovial man, and he laughed at everything, including himself. After a couple dozen of his laughing fits, I had the slight urge to hit him, hard. I especially didn't like it when he would laugh hysterically, look at me (not laughing) and ask "happy, happy?" No. At first I was not happy. He was too happy, his happy attitude was dampening my day, especially after walking around four floors of the boring national museum looking at historical items and stuffed birds. But by the end of the day, I started to appreciate his upbeat attitude. Of course his constant laughing had my 'limited good mood behavior' dwindling at a rapid rate. If I had a relatively good nights sleep, and feed at a constant rate, I could keep up a good mood until well into the afternoon. He shot that time line right to hell with his manic fits and had my dark, teenage mood rearing its ugly head before lunch.
After the museums and lunch, we headed to Kyichu Lhakhang, one of the oldest temples in Bhutan. When we arrived, beautiful orange trees surrounded the temple. Our guide told us that a sacred ceremony was taking place. We could hear loud bells ringing and muttered chanting. We talked around the to the center of the temple and found dozens of people sitting in prayer.
Buddhists and Bhutanese sitting in prayer.
I was worried about offending the Bhutanese by taking pictures, but most didn't seem to mind. This man in particular was very excited to have his picture taken.
April 6, 2010
Some new scenery
I have left Thimphu, my home and sanctuary in Bhutan. My father and step mom have come into the country and I plan on spending the remainder of my days with them. I hopped into a car after saying my goodbye's to John and Diane and drove for an hour to Paro, the second largest town in the country. Halfway through the trip, my stomach threatened to retch and I could only hold on as the driver weaved in-between cars, taking us to the brink of potential death over and over again. I arrived at the Uma Hotel, probably the only five-star hotel in the country; I would expect nothing less of my father.
After an hour or so in the hotel, we went for a walk around a hillside. It was a beautiful walk and we eventually came upon a cliff overlooking the airport. The day's adventures were limited, but the next day promised to be worthwhile.
After an hour or so in the hotel, we went for a walk around a hillside. It was a beautiful walk and we eventually came upon a cliff overlooking the airport. The day's adventures were limited, but the next day promised to be worthwhile.
April 5, 2010
Deer Park Marathon
The next evening I journeyed to Deer Park to watch a movie. The Llama from Wales invited me, and I had already been there for a meditation earlier in the week. They only watch independent films, usually from Asia or Europe. We watched 'Eternity and a Day.' It was set in Greece. It is about a man who knows he has one day to live and he spends it will a boy he found on the streets. He tries to help the kid get back to Albany, but it proves to take longer than he expected. The movie was long and boring, but had some beautiful scenery. The Llama compared the movie to poetry; it’s not necessary about the end, but the beauty from start to finish. Or something similar to that.
The next day I went to Deer Park again for a three-hour meditation/retreat. For twenty minutes we would sit and meditate. Then we had a five-minute walking meditation. Then we had five free minutes to go outside or get some tea. We repeated this schedule for three hours. Talking wasn’t aloud the entire time. The no-talking part wasn’t difficult for me; it was the sitting meditation that was hard. I’m not use to sitting in the position for that long and my back started to hurt with no support. But the entire retreat was thrilling. I came outside and walked into town. I felt alert, conscious, and very aware of my surroundings.
Yesterday was an incredible day. I met new people, talked about fascinating things, and enjoyed myself thoroughly. It all started out with having lunch at a pizzeria in town. I had a few hours before I had to be at Deer Park for our Wisdom Tea Party. The Llama said that there’s usually more tea than wisdom. Obviously that was about to change now that I was coming!
I sat down and started reading 'Shambhala Warrior' by Chogyam Trungpa, waiting for my pizza to come. While I was reading, a man with a British accent sitting two tables down asked me what I was reading. We started to talk about the book, that moved to Buddhism, which transitioned into why we where both in Bhutan. Before I knew it, he was sitting across from me and we were having lunch. He looked to be in his fifties or sixties and he said he was from the U.K. His name’s Roger and he’s a freelance writer / photographer / editor / some other things. He has been living in Bhutan for the last seven months or so and he might stay a few more, depending on if he gets enough money. He has lived in Thailand for fifteen years, Australia for some years, some other parts of Asia, Canada perhaps, and then I just lost track. The guy was loud, loved to talk, ask questions, drink, and live and write in random places; I loved him. We talked for hours about Bhutanese culture, Asia, Buddhism, Paro and Thimphu, the GNH, and some other random stuff. I told him about the project I'd created and started, school, etc. I talked to him about the GNH and he said that it was complete bullshit. We went back and forth about the subject. He said that the GNH is just a publicity thing. And everyone’s cleaning up the cities for a conference that’s going to happen soon. SAGG or something. It is a huge conference where all the countries in Asia get together about once a year, and now it’s in Bhutan. Sadly, I had to leave for the discussion at Deer Park but we swapped phone numbers, planning to meet up again.
I got to Deer Park and met up with the four other people there. There was one Bhutanese man, a woman from California, a man from Israel, and the Llama. The Llama read from a book by Chogyam Trungpa, and we would occasionally react to the reading. Afterward we all met up at Ambient Café. I talked to the woman, Cara, and found out that she has been here for about seven months or so and is a third and fourth grade teacher and can teach high school history. The man from Isreal, Noam, was here teaching music and said something about composing for the king. A third man joined us, Shafik, and he is a math/science/other stuff teacher. I’m not quite sure why he’s here. I talked with them for hours and they were all incredibly interesting people. We talked about Buddhism, Bhutan, breaking down walls, wet dreams, writing, motivation, working best at night, relationships, and creating an entirely new day. It was awesome. I argued with Cara about history and it’s importance and it’s significance, etc. I felt like I was arguing with McAvoy again. I talked to Noam about his creation of a 28-hour day. That might have been the highlight of my day. He created a system where you would have a six-day week, the days were 28 hours long, and you would sleep for 8 hours over that 28-hour period. All it all, it was brilliant. We calculated the days and hours and years for a while. I got really excited; I was working with math how could I not? We all left the café around 10, and I was satisfied.
Now, I have spent the entire day revising, editing, and basically creating my blog. Tomorrow, I plan on heading to Paro for some new adventures.
The next day I went to Deer Park again for a three-hour meditation/retreat. For twenty minutes we would sit and meditate. Then we had a five-minute walking meditation. Then we had five free minutes to go outside or get some tea. We repeated this schedule for three hours. Talking wasn’t aloud the entire time. The no-talking part wasn’t difficult for me; it was the sitting meditation that was hard. I’m not use to sitting in the position for that long and my back started to hurt with no support. But the entire retreat was thrilling. I came outside and walked into town. I felt alert, conscious, and very aware of my surroundings.
Yesterday was an incredible day. I met new people, talked about fascinating things, and enjoyed myself thoroughly. It all started out with having lunch at a pizzeria in town. I had a few hours before I had to be at Deer Park for our Wisdom Tea Party. The Llama said that there’s usually more tea than wisdom. Obviously that was about to change now that I was coming!
I sat down and started reading 'Shambhala Warrior' by Chogyam Trungpa, waiting for my pizza to come. While I was reading, a man with a British accent sitting two tables down asked me what I was reading. We started to talk about the book, that moved to Buddhism, which transitioned into why we where both in Bhutan. Before I knew it, he was sitting across from me and we were having lunch. He looked to be in his fifties or sixties and he said he was from the U.K. His name’s Roger and he’s a freelance writer / photographer / editor / some other things. He has been living in Bhutan for the last seven months or so and he might stay a few more, depending on if he gets enough money. He has lived in Thailand for fifteen years, Australia for some years, some other parts of Asia, Canada perhaps, and then I just lost track. The guy was loud, loved to talk, ask questions, drink, and live and write in random places; I loved him. We talked for hours about Bhutanese culture, Asia, Buddhism, Paro and Thimphu, the GNH, and some other random stuff. I told him about the project I'd created and started, school, etc. I talked to him about the GNH and he said that it was complete bullshit. We went back and forth about the subject. He said that the GNH is just a publicity thing. And everyone’s cleaning up the cities for a conference that’s going to happen soon. SAGG or something. It is a huge conference where all the countries in Asia get together about once a year, and now it’s in Bhutan. Sadly, I had to leave for the discussion at Deer Park but we swapped phone numbers, planning to meet up again.
I got to Deer Park and met up with the four other people there. There was one Bhutanese man, a woman from California, a man from Israel, and the Llama. The Llama read from a book by Chogyam Trungpa, and we would occasionally react to the reading. Afterward we all met up at Ambient Café. I talked to the woman, Cara, and found out that she has been here for about seven months or so and is a third and fourth grade teacher and can teach high school history. The man from Isreal, Noam, was here teaching music and said something about composing for the king. A third man joined us, Shafik, and he is a math/science/other stuff teacher. I’m not quite sure why he’s here. I talked with them for hours and they were all incredibly interesting people. We talked about Buddhism, Bhutan, breaking down walls, wet dreams, writing, motivation, working best at night, relationships, and creating an entirely new day. It was awesome. I argued with Cara about history and it’s importance and it’s significance, etc. I felt like I was arguing with McAvoy again. I talked to Noam about his creation of a 28-hour day. That might have been the highlight of my day. He created a system where you would have a six-day week, the days were 28 hours long, and you would sleep for 8 hours over that 28-hour period. All it all, it was brilliant. We calculated the days and hours and years for a while. I got really excited; I was working with math how could I not? We all left the café around 10, and I was satisfied.
Now, I have spent the entire day revising, editing, and basically creating my blog. Tomorrow, I plan on heading to Paro for some new adventures.
Tango Monastery
The first day of freedom I had, I celebrated by hiking up to Tango Monastery. Tango is half an hour drive from Thimphu, and a 30-minute hike. On the way to Tango, we stopped on the road and looked at a painting on the side of a rock. The painting was beautiful and detailed. It was a painting of Guru Rinpoche, a very sacred deity in Bhutan.
Painting of Guru Rinpoche
The short 30 minute hike up the hills had me gasping for breath multiple times. I was out of shape, and the high elevation was not being kind to my lungs. First we reached a Tibetan Stupa before we reached Tango.
Stupa at Tango Monastery
We reached Tango and it was beautiful. Over 300 monks are studying and living at Tango. My driver, Kinley, had a cousin at the monastery and he invited us into his home/shack for tea. The only way you could reach the monastery was by walking. Everything at the monastery, everything used to build the monastery, was either carried up using horses or peoples' backs.
Tango Monastery
On the drive to and from Tango Monastery, you drive across several bridges. One of the small, wooden, and rickety bridges is covered in colorful prayer flags. The different colored flags represent the different elements. The flags are suppose to bring good luck. As a friend from the UK put it, "if you didn't know the significance of the prayer flags, it would look like a kids birthday party everywhere!"
Bridge to Tango
A couple hours after getting back from the trip to Tango, my driver took me to a local place to play pool. Their version of pool is a bit different from ours. There are tons of red balls and some multi-colored balls. You have to get a red ball in before you hit a colored ball. You get points by getting the colored balls in, different colors have different points. The colored balls are always in play until all red balls have been eliminated. I'm still confused by it and I usually have to ask if I can hit a certain ball in. I ended up playing doubles. The Rinpoche came by, we were on a team, and we played against Kinley and another boy. They were all very nice, but they kept telling which balls to hit in which pockets. I know how to play pool, and just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't figure out which ball to hit. Other than me getting slightly aggravated by being told what to do, I had a great time with the guys.
Painting of Guru Rinpoche
The short 30 minute hike up the hills had me gasping for breath multiple times. I was out of shape, and the high elevation was not being kind to my lungs. First we reached a Tibetan Stupa before we reached Tango.
Stupa at Tango Monastery
We reached Tango and it was beautiful. Over 300 monks are studying and living at Tango. My driver, Kinley, had a cousin at the monastery and he invited us into his home/shack for tea. The only way you could reach the monastery was by walking. Everything at the monastery, everything used to build the monastery, was either carried up using horses or peoples' backs.
Tango Monastery
On the drive to and from Tango Monastery, you drive across several bridges. One of the small, wooden, and rickety bridges is covered in colorful prayer flags. The different colored flags represent the different elements. The flags are suppose to bring good luck. As a friend from the UK put it, "if you didn't know the significance of the prayer flags, it would look like a kids birthday party everywhere!"
Bridge to Tango
A couple hours after getting back from the trip to Tango, my driver took me to a local place to play pool. Their version of pool is a bit different from ours. There are tons of red balls and some multi-colored balls. You have to get a red ball in before you hit a colored ball. You get points by getting the colored balls in, different colors have different points. The colored balls are always in play until all red balls have been eliminated. I'm still confused by it and I usually have to ask if I can hit a certain ball in. I ended up playing doubles. The Rinpoche came by, we were on a team, and we played against Kinley and another boy. They were all very nice, but they kept telling which balls to hit in which pockets. I know how to play pool, and just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't figure out which ball to hit. Other than me getting slightly aggravated by being told what to do, I had a great time with the guys.
April 4, 2010
The days after
The day after I left the nunnery, I ran into John and Diane at the Druk, the hotel I was now staying at. They were exhausted from traveling back from Punahka and they gave me the driver and guide, Sange and Sonam. It first I was just planning on going to the National Public Library for a few hours. They dropped me off and waited outside. I got to the second floor and turned around. Why would I just want to waste two knowledgeable Bhutanese who can take me anywhere?
We drove into the hills and went to Dechen Phodrang Monastery. This monastery housed over 100 monks roughly between the ages of seven to seventeen. We walked around the main monastery, spinning all the prayer wheels along the way. You can’t take picture inside the rooms at the monastery, so it’s hard to describe. While walking around, we ran into a Bhutanese couple from the north. Sonam told me that it takes them four days to reach Thimphu. There are no roads from where they are from, and they must make the journey on foot.
Picture or Bhutanese woman from the north
Next we went to the oldest Dzong in Thimphu, Bhutan: Simtokha Dzong. The Dzong was used as a fortress or castle during battle. It is located about 5 km outside of Thimphu and up on a hill. It looks nearly impenetrable. The ancient and sacred Dzong was beautiful, and I could feel the power of it tingling from my crown down to my toes.
Next we drove up to the Buddha point. The largest Buddha structure in the world is overlooking Thimphu. It is still under construction and won’t be completed for a few months. Buddha is 168 feet tall and towers over the city on one of the highest hills above the city. After running out of activities, we went to a local restaurant and had cheese momo’s, a Bhutanese form of dumplings. I met up with John and Diane at the hotel and we went to a meditation at Deer Park, guided by the Llama that we had met at Ambient Café.
The next day, Diane and John were scheduled to leave around midday. John was going to play a round of golf, and Diane had to pack. So Sonam took me to play archery. We went to the archery grounds and watched a group of men shoot up and down the field for half an hour. After, we went to a random field near the golf course and started to shoot. The Bhutanese don't use the fancy compound bows, they shoot with the real deal. We did as well. And they only shot two arrows, then walked to the other side of the field. The target is a small piece of wood. About 2-3 feet tall, and a few inches wide. They have to hit that target from 165 feet away. What a sport! While shooting, I almost got the arrow all the way across the field to the other target, but that was only once. Usually the arrow ended up halfway to the target, or a little over halfway. Afterward, my upper-left arm had a nice black and blue bruise on it from the bow string.
John and Diane left for Bumtaun (sounds like Boom town) which is a 10 hour drive from Thimphu, and I was alone in Thimphu. Bring it on!
We drove into the hills and went to Dechen Phodrang Monastery. This monastery housed over 100 monks roughly between the ages of seven to seventeen. We walked around the main monastery, spinning all the prayer wheels along the way. You can’t take picture inside the rooms at the monastery, so it’s hard to describe. While walking around, we ran into a Bhutanese couple from the north. Sonam told me that it takes them four days to reach Thimphu. There are no roads from where they are from, and they must make the journey on foot.
Picture or Bhutanese woman from the north
Next we went to the oldest Dzong in Thimphu, Bhutan: Simtokha Dzong. The Dzong was used as a fortress or castle during battle. It is located about 5 km outside of Thimphu and up on a hill. It looks nearly impenetrable. The ancient and sacred Dzong was beautiful, and I could feel the power of it tingling from my crown down to my toes.
Next we drove up to the Buddha point. The largest Buddha structure in the world is overlooking Thimphu. It is still under construction and won’t be completed for a few months. Buddha is 168 feet tall and towers over the city on one of the highest hills above the city. After running out of activities, we went to a local restaurant and had cheese momo’s, a Bhutanese form of dumplings. I met up with John and Diane at the hotel and we went to a meditation at Deer Park, guided by the Llama that we had met at Ambient Café.
The next day, Diane and John were scheduled to leave around midday. John was going to play a round of golf, and Diane had to pack. So Sonam took me to play archery. We went to the archery grounds and watched a group of men shoot up and down the field for half an hour. After, we went to a random field near the golf course and started to shoot. The Bhutanese don't use the fancy compound bows, they shoot with the real deal. We did as well. And they only shot two arrows, then walked to the other side of the field. The target is a small piece of wood. About 2-3 feet tall, and a few inches wide. They have to hit that target from 165 feet away. What a sport! While shooting, I almost got the arrow all the way across the field to the other target, but that was only once. Usually the arrow ended up halfway to the target, or a little over halfway. Afterward, my upper-left arm had a nice black and blue bruise on it from the bow string.
John and Diane left for Bumtaun (sounds like Boom town) which is a 10 hour drive from Thimphu, and I was alone in Thimphu. Bring it on!
April 3, 2010
heartbeat
I hear no heartbeats
Not even my own
No soothing beat
To ease me to sleep
I hear nothing but the
Rumble and jumble of my own mind
Nothing quiet or calming
To create sweet dreams
I’ve tried everything to hear it
The one solidifying fact
That I am a living breathing
Hunk of sentient meat
I’ve sat in the quietest rooms
I’ve lied on silent beds
I’ve waded in the hushed waters
Only to be disappointed; nothing
I hear nothing, feel nothing
I can feel the heartbeat
To reassure myself
By pressing my fingers to my wrist
But I don’t want that
I don’t want reassurances
I need the real thing
I need to hear a heartbeat
My mind is cluttered
Filled to the brim with mindless shit
Clanging’s, banging’s
Bashes and booms
It will not be quiet
And I cannot hear my own heart
I wish to hear another’s
I seek them out
I want them to sing me a lullaby
Without ever moving their lips
I want to be lulled to sleep
And fall into peaceful dreams
Not even my own
No soothing beat
To ease me to sleep
I hear nothing but the
Rumble and jumble of my own mind
Nothing quiet or calming
To create sweet dreams
I’ve tried everything to hear it
The one solidifying fact
That I am a living breathing
Hunk of sentient meat
I’ve sat in the quietest rooms
I’ve lied on silent beds
I’ve waded in the hushed waters
Only to be disappointed; nothing
I hear nothing, feel nothing
I can feel the heartbeat
To reassure myself
By pressing my fingers to my wrist
But I don’t want that
I don’t want reassurances
I need the real thing
I need to hear a heartbeat
My mind is cluttered
Filled to the brim with mindless shit
Clanging’s, banging’s
Bashes and booms
It will not be quiet
And I cannot hear my own heart
I wish to hear another’s
I seek them out
I want them to sing me a lullaby
Without ever moving their lips
I want to be lulled to sleep
And fall into peaceful dreams
get thee to a nunnery
“I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go, I do not want to go." I had decided that morning that I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay with John and Diane, I wanted to travel, I did not want to be left alone. A couple days ago, it seemed like such a great idea. I can go to a nunnery for a week, meditate, learn about Buddhism, and spend some time with the nuns. No. It didn't sound like a fun idea anymore. I would have very few people to talk to, only two or three people spoke English in the entire nunnery. I told Diane that I did not want to go. She told me that I could talk to her anytime I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of going. "You have to go, she told me, it is too late to back out now." They were leaving for Punahka and they did not have extra space in the car. My vision started the blur and I looked at my hands in my lap. They couldn’t see that I was on the verge of tears. I am in Bhutan, I am supposed to be having a great time, I am supposed to be happy and appreciative. But I didn’t want to be happy, I didn’t want to go to the nunnery. But I will go. I started to smile and I realized that I could have a great time, or a horrible time, it was all up to me. So I put a smile on my face, I looked into Diane’s eyes and I told her that I was ready. The llama from Wales was staring at me intently. Was he judging me? Was he looking at me and laughing inside about this silly American girl who couldn’t just suck it up and go to a nunnery for a week? I started into his eyes and silently told him that I was going to do this, I had the strength to endure.
I shifted uncomfortably and repositioned my right foot. I straitened my back and I few cracks erupted from the middle of my spine. I would have to get use to the discomfort of having nothing to lean against. I was sitting in front of the Rinpoche of the nunnery that I was staying at. Diane was next to me, and across from me was John and Sange, our driver. A Rinpoche is a reincarnate and a very important person in the Buddhist culture. He was 19-year-old guy, Bhutanese, a Rinpoche, a Buddhist, and all I could see was a teenager. After Diane and John left I went for a walk with him. We talked about Buddhism, America, American movies and music. I found out that he is a fan of ACDC and Eminem, he has facebook, and he is an incredible pool player. Who would have thought? Now, we’ve listened and discussed American music, we’ve become facebook friends, and we’ve paired up together for a game of pool. And I don’t even know if we won or not. With their game of pool, there are a bunch of red balls, and then some colored balls, and no numbers. You win by points, and where the points come from is still a mystery.
Ziluhka nunnery, Stupa in the building on the left and building with candles for offerings on the right
After the walk we went back into his room and watched TV for a while. I didn’t think I’d see any TV’s at the nunnery, let alone be able to watch one. An hour later I was sitting by myself in a room near the kitchen, waiting. This would soon become a routine. I would be in this room alone, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a small, rectangular table in front of me, and wait for my food. Then I would eat in solitude and leave. Halfway through every meal, a nun would ask me, “second shares?” At first I didn’t want more food so I would say no. Then, looking hurt and offended, she would ask, “you don’t like?” Shocked that I had offended her, I accepted ‘second shares’ every time since then. I think I gained 10 pounds while at the nunnery.
Nawang Pal, the nun that I had talked to in the states, showed me to my room. It was probably about 7 feet by 8 feet by 7 feet, and would be my sanctuary while at the nunnery. I was given a key to a pad lock that would keep my door locked during the day. I was confused as to why I would lock my door at a nunnery, assuming that it was probably a very safe place. I doubted that a nun would steal my belongings, but I locked by door none the less.
I went to my room after dinner. I could barely eat the food in fear of receiving third degree burns throughout my entire mouth. I sat on my mattress, with no blankets yet, and waited. Nawang said that she had to do puja at a house nearby and would be back soon. She returned an hour or two later and gave me some blankets. Now, I’m not really one for pink; apparently nuns are. The sheet separating me from the mattress had a dark pink background. The print was a lighter pink with flowers and had the world “Love” written everywhere. Then, the thick blanket on top was a light pink with pink flowers and pink trim. I could only force a smile and thank her for the beautiful comforters. I gagged after she left the room, but could only be thankful for the incredible hospitality. During my stay, I grew to like the color a little more, damn nuns.
My room, not much is missing
That first night was memorable. I lied on my bed, which ended up being a thin mattress lying on the floor, in a fetal position and stared above. There were a few pictures of Buddha, the Rinpoche, His Holiness, and some mandalas. To my left I could hear other nuns getting ready for bed. It wasn’t hard to hear them through the thin piece of plywood separating our rooms. I was feeling alone and disconnected. But the feelings were forgotten while I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
I opened my eyes to the darkened room. I was confused because I didn’t know why I was awake. Then I heard it again, a soft ‘gong’ resonating throughout the nunnery. It was morning prayer (puja) and it was 4 a.m. The nuns started their days at about 4:30 with a three-hour prayer. I drifted back asleep and probably awoke around 7 or so. At nine they resumed their puja and kept at it until noon. Then they finished it off with puja from about 3:30 to 7. I would come and sit down on the floor and watch them. They would chant for hours in the incredibly foreign language, bang on drums, throw rice, and blow horns; the whole shebang. I found the entire event very soothing. I would sit there for hours, breathing and listening.
No one expected me to shave my head. I was thankful that I didn’t have to. Coming to Bhutan, I half expected to shave my head. I asked Nawang about this and she started to laugh. She said that is isn’t about your hair or your clothes that makes you a Buddhist. It is about your heart and your mind.
Ziluhka nunnery, on the left above the wall is the kitchen and where I ate all meals. The building on the right is where all puja’s where held. Above the prayer room in Rinpoche's room
The days past, and I was uncomfortable. I had time to sit and be still, but I wanted to learn, or do something. Nawang took me to the market in town over the weekend. Everything imaginable was sold at the market; fruit, meat, chilies, doma, rice, wheat, shoes, bags, clothes, asparagus, everything. I talked with the Rinpoche and Nawang Pal. The third or fourth day, I met with the Rinpoche. We watched some more TV and just talked. We talked about some more movies, Thich Naht Hanh (he was currently reading a book of his), and the English language. There are some ridiculous words in the English language like colonel, knife, lieutenant, etc. After talking with the Rinpoche I went down to evening puja. While there, I created my own meditation. I started at my first shakra, the base of the spine, and worked my way to the seventh shakra. For each shakra, I would inhale and exhale once. Then after one round, I would start again but take two inhalations and two exhalations. I slowly worked my way to ten, then I would go back down to one. If I became distracted, I would inhale once for each shakra, and pick up where I left off. I rarely make it to ten, and then back down. It takes a bit of time.
One of the greatest things about being at the nunnery was not worrying about looking crazy, and their food and tea. The second morning I was served Corn Flakes with warm milk. From then on I was served only one meal after the second day. They found out that I loved their potato dish with rice, and it was incredible. They sliced up potatoes into thin slices and made some sort of curry with it. I could live off the potatoes and rice for years. Then, they usually served tea with it. They made a milk tea with sugar. They would boil the tea with the powdered milk for a few minutes, and it was amazing. I have tried to re-create it or ask for it in restaurants. The tea doesn’t even come close.
I didn’t’ feel crazy at the nunnery at all, which is rare. I could sit for hours and stare off into the distance, or sit for hours with my eyes closed, and no one took a second glance. It was alright, it was normal. I didn't feel awkward, no one interrupted me, no one started waving their hands in front of my face. It was peaceful. I could also walk around in circles muttering to myself all day. That would be a daily occurrence for almost everyone. What an incredible place! We have places like that back in the states, but they usually come with strait jackets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not calling the Bhutanese crazy, I’m calling them sane. I think that we have to take a second look at our sanity as a society.
I shifted uncomfortably and repositioned my right foot. I straitened my back and I few cracks erupted from the middle of my spine. I would have to get use to the discomfort of having nothing to lean against. I was sitting in front of the Rinpoche of the nunnery that I was staying at. Diane was next to me, and across from me was John and Sange, our driver. A Rinpoche is a reincarnate and a very important person in the Buddhist culture. He was 19-year-old guy, Bhutanese, a Rinpoche, a Buddhist, and all I could see was a teenager. After Diane and John left I went for a walk with him. We talked about Buddhism, America, American movies and music. I found out that he is a fan of ACDC and Eminem, he has facebook, and he is an incredible pool player. Who would have thought? Now, we’ve listened and discussed American music, we’ve become facebook friends, and we’ve paired up together for a game of pool. And I don’t even know if we won or not. With their game of pool, there are a bunch of red balls, and then some colored balls, and no numbers. You win by points, and where the points come from is still a mystery.
Ziluhka nunnery, Stupa in the building on the left and building with candles for offerings on the right
After the walk we went back into his room and watched TV for a while. I didn’t think I’d see any TV’s at the nunnery, let alone be able to watch one. An hour later I was sitting by myself in a room near the kitchen, waiting. This would soon become a routine. I would be in this room alone, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a small, rectangular table in front of me, and wait for my food. Then I would eat in solitude and leave. Halfway through every meal, a nun would ask me, “second shares?” At first I didn’t want more food so I would say no. Then, looking hurt and offended, she would ask, “you don’t like?” Shocked that I had offended her, I accepted ‘second shares’ every time since then. I think I gained 10 pounds while at the nunnery.
Nawang Pal, the nun that I had talked to in the states, showed me to my room. It was probably about 7 feet by 8 feet by 7 feet, and would be my sanctuary while at the nunnery. I was given a key to a pad lock that would keep my door locked during the day. I was confused as to why I would lock my door at a nunnery, assuming that it was probably a very safe place. I doubted that a nun would steal my belongings, but I locked by door none the less.
I went to my room after dinner. I could barely eat the food in fear of receiving third degree burns throughout my entire mouth. I sat on my mattress, with no blankets yet, and waited. Nawang said that she had to do puja at a house nearby and would be back soon. She returned an hour or two later and gave me some blankets. Now, I’m not really one for pink; apparently nuns are. The sheet separating me from the mattress had a dark pink background. The print was a lighter pink with flowers and had the world “Love” written everywhere. Then, the thick blanket on top was a light pink with pink flowers and pink trim. I could only force a smile and thank her for the beautiful comforters. I gagged after she left the room, but could only be thankful for the incredible hospitality. During my stay, I grew to like the color a little more, damn nuns.
My room, not much is missing
That first night was memorable. I lied on my bed, which ended up being a thin mattress lying on the floor, in a fetal position and stared above. There were a few pictures of Buddha, the Rinpoche, His Holiness, and some mandalas. To my left I could hear other nuns getting ready for bed. It wasn’t hard to hear them through the thin piece of plywood separating our rooms. I was feeling alone and disconnected. But the feelings were forgotten while I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
I opened my eyes to the darkened room. I was confused because I didn’t know why I was awake. Then I heard it again, a soft ‘gong’ resonating throughout the nunnery. It was morning prayer (puja) and it was 4 a.m. The nuns started their days at about 4:30 with a three-hour prayer. I drifted back asleep and probably awoke around 7 or so. At nine they resumed their puja and kept at it until noon. Then they finished it off with puja from about 3:30 to 7. I would come and sit down on the floor and watch them. They would chant for hours in the incredibly foreign language, bang on drums, throw rice, and blow horns; the whole shebang. I found the entire event very soothing. I would sit there for hours, breathing and listening.
No one expected me to shave my head. I was thankful that I didn’t have to. Coming to Bhutan, I half expected to shave my head. I asked Nawang about this and she started to laugh. She said that is isn’t about your hair or your clothes that makes you a Buddhist. It is about your heart and your mind.
Ziluhka nunnery, on the left above the wall is the kitchen and where I ate all meals. The building on the right is where all puja’s where held. Above the prayer room in Rinpoche's room
The days past, and I was uncomfortable. I had time to sit and be still, but I wanted to learn, or do something. Nawang took me to the market in town over the weekend. Everything imaginable was sold at the market; fruit, meat, chilies, doma, rice, wheat, shoes, bags, clothes, asparagus, everything. I talked with the Rinpoche and Nawang Pal. The third or fourth day, I met with the Rinpoche. We watched some more TV and just talked. We talked about some more movies, Thich Naht Hanh (he was currently reading a book of his), and the English language. There are some ridiculous words in the English language like colonel, knife, lieutenant, etc. After talking with the Rinpoche I went down to evening puja. While there, I created my own meditation. I started at my first shakra, the base of the spine, and worked my way to the seventh shakra. For each shakra, I would inhale and exhale once. Then after one round, I would start again but take two inhalations and two exhalations. I slowly worked my way to ten, then I would go back down to one. If I became distracted, I would inhale once for each shakra, and pick up where I left off. I rarely make it to ten, and then back down. It takes a bit of time.
One of the greatest things about being at the nunnery was not worrying about looking crazy, and their food and tea. The second morning I was served Corn Flakes with warm milk. From then on I was served only one meal after the second day. They found out that I loved their potato dish with rice, and it was incredible. They sliced up potatoes into thin slices and made some sort of curry with it. I could live off the potatoes and rice for years. Then, they usually served tea with it. They made a milk tea with sugar. They would boil the tea with the powdered milk for a few minutes, and it was amazing. I have tried to re-create it or ask for it in restaurants. The tea doesn’t even come close.
I didn’t’ feel crazy at the nunnery at all, which is rare. I could sit for hours and stare off into the distance, or sit for hours with my eyes closed, and no one took a second glance. It was alright, it was normal. I didn't feel awkward, no one interrupted me, no one started waving their hands in front of my face. It was peaceful. I could also walk around in circles muttering to myself all day. That would be a daily occurrence for almost everyone. What an incredible place! We have places like that back in the states, but they usually come with strait jackets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not calling the Bhutanese crazy, I’m calling them sane. I think that we have to take a second look at our sanity as a society.
April 2, 2010
night
In the darkest nights,
Skeletons play foolish games
They laugh and tumble like children
Let the skeletons dance.
The sounds of bone hitting bone
Echo in the bottomless caverns
The click clacking click clacking
Softly plays against my ears
I am not afraid of the dark
Or scared of what goes
Bump in the night
I am the creator of the light
The darkness, whether large or small
Is a shadow, your shadow, my shadow
I am the creator of the night
As are you,
will you dance with me
Under the stars?
The dark will not frighten me away
I will howl at the moon
And wish upon a star
I am the creator of the night
The light will not
Play tricks on my eyes
Or transform me
Into a frightened child
I am the creator of the night
I am here to tell you, to help you
You too can create with me
Let us create a symphony
Or let us create a life
A life that we can live together
A life where we can all belong
But this life must be without light
I am the creator of the night
Skeletons play foolish games
They laugh and tumble like children
Let the skeletons dance.
The sounds of bone hitting bone
Echo in the bottomless caverns
The click clacking click clacking
Softly plays against my ears
I am not afraid of the dark
Or scared of what goes
Bump in the night
I am the creator of the light
The darkness, whether large or small
Is a shadow, your shadow, my shadow
I am the creator of the night
As are you,
will you dance with me
Under the stars?
The dark will not frighten me away
I will howl at the moon
And wish upon a star
I am the creator of the night
The light will not
Play tricks on my eyes
Or transform me
Into a frightened child
I am the creator of the night
I am here to tell you, to help you
You too can create with me
Let us create a symphony
Or let us create a life
A life that we can live together
A life where we can all belong
But this life must be without light
I am the creator of the night
March 30, 2010
March 29, 2010
tree
I see my soul as a tree
Standing tall and strong
Protecting me from the harsh
Elements fighting to come in
My tree will protect me,
Its leaves will keep out the rain
And harsh sunrays,
But will let the moonlight seep through
I gladly welcome the moonlight
Into my new found home
Its silver rays heal my skin
And give life to my soul
My tree equally welcomes in
The beautiful moonlight
For my tree feeds off it
Not the harsh, unforgiving sun
The moon can heal, and bring life
To the darkest corners of the universe
When the sun leaves, abandons hope
The moon is there with an extended hand
The branches will be my shelter
And block the strong wind
The trunk’s heat will keep me warm
It will be the body I can huddle
Up to in the dead of night
I will water this tree with
My tears, I will feed it with
My loneliness. And in turn,
It will grow strong
Stronger than I could ever be
For this tree can soak up my tears,
My pain, my loneliness, my fears
And it will protect me.
It will love me, it will hug me
And sing to me when
I feel like I can’t go on
It will sing me a lullaby,
The one that I have never heard
And soon, its roots will rise
From the earth, and wind its
Way up my legs
The tree will bend over,
And the branches will
Grab hold of my arms
And it will wrap around my chest
It will enclose me, hug me,
Hold me, cradle me
It will protect me and keep me safe
It will guard me against
My deepest fears
It will wake me and hold me
During my worst night mares
And it will be there
When everyone else has left
My tree is my protector,
My guardian angel, my mother
My father, my brother,
My sister, my friend,
My lover, my teacher,
My enemy
My tree is my soul
Forever shall I love it
And forever shall it love me
Standing tall and strong
Protecting me from the harsh
Elements fighting to come in
My tree will protect me,
Its leaves will keep out the rain
And harsh sunrays,
But will let the moonlight seep through
I gladly welcome the moonlight
Into my new found home
Its silver rays heal my skin
And give life to my soul
My tree equally welcomes in
The beautiful moonlight
For my tree feeds off it
Not the harsh, unforgiving sun
The moon can heal, and bring life
To the darkest corners of the universe
When the sun leaves, abandons hope
The moon is there with an extended hand
The branches will be my shelter
And block the strong wind
The trunk’s heat will keep me warm
It will be the body I can huddle
Up to in the dead of night
I will water this tree with
My tears, I will feed it with
My loneliness. And in turn,
It will grow strong
Stronger than I could ever be
For this tree can soak up my tears,
My pain, my loneliness, my fears
And it will protect me.
It will love me, it will hug me
And sing to me when
I feel like I can’t go on
It will sing me a lullaby,
The one that I have never heard
And soon, its roots will rise
From the earth, and wind its
Way up my legs
The tree will bend over,
And the branches will
Grab hold of my arms
And it will wrap around my chest
It will enclose me, hug me,
Hold me, cradle me
It will protect me and keep me safe
It will guard me against
My deepest fears
It will wake me and hold me
During my worst night mares
And it will be there
When everyone else has left
My tree is my protector,
My guardian angel, my mother
My father, my brother,
My sister, my friend,
My lover, my teacher,
My enemy
My tree is my soul
Forever shall I love it
And forever shall it love me
March 28, 2010
My tree
While being here, I thought I was experiencing a deep feeling of homesickness, but I was wrong. I was not longing to be back home, for I have none. I have no place that I can give such a label. I don't know if I was longing for anything. It was loneliness. A deep kind of loneliness, a seed that was planted many years ago. And I have felt this loneliness take root and burst out of the ground over a year ago. But now, with no distractions, with no lies and deceptions, this loneliness is flourishing. Branching out, growing, thriving, showing its true colors, showing whether it bears fruit or thorns.
This loneliness is more real than anything I've experienced. More tangible than the bed I lie in. Its voice is clearer than any teacher talking before me. Its company is more consistent than any friends'. And it's love, more real than any parents.
But, I am planning on change. A new variable to take place. For this tree, growing inside me, I do not see it as a hollow tree, deadened to life. It is not chared, black, hollow, or lifeless. It is vibrant, or it will be in the future. This tree is my home. Its branches will protect me from the winds, its leaves will protect me from the rain. And its trunk will keep me warm at night when I feel myself growing cold. This tree has its own heart beat, its own life. We feed off each other, provide for each other, give and take from each other, love each other. Perhaps it is easier to see this tree as my soul, if we have such things. All things must be created from something, and I have the power over the soil in which my tree feeds from. For now, it is out of my control and the tree will continue to grow from this loneliness.
This loneliness is more real than anything I've experienced. More tangible than the bed I lie in. Its voice is clearer than any teacher talking before me. Its company is more consistent than any friends'. And it's love, more real than any parents.
But, I am planning on change. A new variable to take place. For this tree, growing inside me, I do not see it as a hollow tree, deadened to life. It is not chared, black, hollow, or lifeless. It is vibrant, or it will be in the future. This tree is my home. Its branches will protect me from the winds, its leaves will protect me from the rain. And its trunk will keep me warm at night when I feel myself growing cold. This tree has its own heart beat, its own life. We feed off each other, provide for each other, give and take from each other, love each other. Perhaps it is easier to see this tree as my soul, if we have such things. All things must be created from something, and I have the power over the soil in which my tree feeds from. For now, it is out of my control and the tree will continue to grow from this loneliness.
March 27, 2010
Are you takin or barkin?
One of the stops we made in Thimphu was Deer Park park. Here they kept deer and Takin to prevent extinction. When Karma told me that we were going to see a Takin I thought he was joking. He explained to me that the Takin in the national animal. It is an animal that has the head of a goat and the body of a cow. I thought it sounded that a weird mythical animal and was confused why this was their national animal since it didn't even exist. Diane and I were both shocked when we saw the actual Takin.
Baby Takins
With the takins were baby deer. But they were barking deer. Named such because sometimes they 'bark.' It sounds somewhat like a sick dog who was debarked but still has enough gusto to keep trying. Not very pleasant, but interesting creatures none the less.
Baby Takins
With the takins were baby deer. But they were barking deer. Named such because sometimes they 'bark.' It sounds somewhat like a sick dog who was debarked but still has enough gusto to keep trying. Not very pleasant, but interesting creatures none the less.
March 26, 2010
Around Thimphu
I am in Bhutan. I have my own hotel room in the Dragon Roots, less than a minutes walk from John and Diane’s hotel. When we arrived, I was astonished. The country is better than I could have imagined. Once in Paro, good Karma drove us to Thimphu, about an hour away from Paro. Once I had my hotel room, I started to explore Thimphu. John and Diane where exhausted from traveling but I still had some adrenaline in me and decided to use it. Karma drove me up to a Stupa overlooking the city.
The Stupa
Unfortunately, I missed the memo that said that you had to walk around everything in three’s. Three times around the stupa, or six, or 21, 108. And you always have to walk clockwise around everything. I think that they purposefully had the driver on the right side of the car, just so they could drive clockwise around the roundabouts. There were many Bhutanese and tourists walking around the Stupa. They leave the gates to the stupa open all the time, there is always someone walking around the stupa when I pass it.
A very friendly looking, old, Bhutanese man
After looking around the stupa, I walked back down toward my hotel; back to the heart of Thimphu. At first I was a bit frightened walking around this completely foreign country by myself. My paranoia really set in when I felt like guys were smiling just a little too much. But everyone was very friendly and didn’t mind returning a smile anytime you threw one their way.
I ate with John, Diane, and Ugyen, the man who helped get me into Bhutan. He is a personal friend of the King, and a complete businessman. He had his blackberry and Iphone out faster than I could order a bottle of water. Having a few businessmen in the family, I could spot them from a mile away. He might as well have had a dunce cap on. Oh, everyone has cell phones in Bhutan, nice ones too. Iphones, blackberries, the works
Around 3 o’clock I crashed, hard. I started to get delirious and I swear I was hallucinating about monks and bunnies… I gained a bit of consciousness again at 6 and lost it shortly afterward. I came to at 1 a.m., fully conscious. What was I going to do at one in the morning? Around five I had had enough and left my room. Instead of walking towards the stupa, like the day before, I walked in the opposite direction. After a while I came upon a monastery on the outskirts of town. A monk approached me and we chatted about the monastery. The name of the monastery is Zangdo Pelri. The monk was very kind and was curious to know where I was from and what I was doing in Bhutan. He had grown up in Thimphu. I asked a very shy monk if I could take his picture and after a few minutes, he finally stood still.
Monk in front of fire with white smoke
Karma’s mother (the woman I was suppose to live with while I was in Bhutan) was out of town for over a week, so a Llama arranged for me to stay of one of the nunneries on the outskirts of town, Ziluhka nunnery. It worked out that I would go to the nunnery while John and Diane left and went to Punahka, a two-hour drive from Thimphu. A nunnery, what have I gotten myself into?
The Stupa
Unfortunately, I missed the memo that said that you had to walk around everything in three’s. Three times around the stupa, or six, or 21, 108. And you always have to walk clockwise around everything. I think that they purposefully had the driver on the right side of the car, just so they could drive clockwise around the roundabouts. There were many Bhutanese and tourists walking around the Stupa. They leave the gates to the stupa open all the time, there is always someone walking around the stupa when I pass it.
A very friendly looking, old, Bhutanese man
After looking around the stupa, I walked back down toward my hotel; back to the heart of Thimphu. At first I was a bit frightened walking around this completely foreign country by myself. My paranoia really set in when I felt like guys were smiling just a little too much. But everyone was very friendly and didn’t mind returning a smile anytime you threw one their way.
I ate with John, Diane, and Ugyen, the man who helped get me into Bhutan. He is a personal friend of the King, and a complete businessman. He had his blackberry and Iphone out faster than I could order a bottle of water. Having a few businessmen in the family, I could spot them from a mile away. He might as well have had a dunce cap on. Oh, everyone has cell phones in Bhutan, nice ones too. Iphones, blackberries, the works
Around 3 o’clock I crashed, hard. I started to get delirious and I swear I was hallucinating about monks and bunnies… I gained a bit of consciousness again at 6 and lost it shortly afterward. I came to at 1 a.m., fully conscious. What was I going to do at one in the morning? Around five I had had enough and left my room. Instead of walking towards the stupa, like the day before, I walked in the opposite direction. After a while I came upon a monastery on the outskirts of town. A monk approached me and we chatted about the monastery. The name of the monastery is Zangdo Pelri. The monk was very kind and was curious to know where I was from and what I was doing in Bhutan. He had grown up in Thimphu. I asked a very shy monk if I could take his picture and after a few minutes, he finally stood still.
Monk in front of fire with white smoke
Karma’s mother (the woman I was suppose to live with while I was in Bhutan) was out of town for over a week, so a Llama arranged for me to stay of one of the nunneries on the outskirts of town, Ziluhka nunnery. It worked out that I would go to the nunnery while John and Diane left and went to Punahka, a two-hour drive from Thimphu. A nunnery, what have I gotten myself into?
March 25, 2010
Prayer
A few prayers I learned along the way
OM GATE GATE
PARA GATE
PARA SAM GATE
BODHI SVAHA
loosely translated~ may I be free of attachments
OM MANI PADME OM
~ Praise to the jewell at the heart of the lotus
Two prayers Nawang Pal taught me
Eja:
OM BAZAR SATO SA MA YA
MANU PALA YA
BANZAR SATO TEY NO PA TIE THRA
DEDO MAY BA WA
SUTO KHA YO MAY BA WA
AA NU RATO MAY BA WA
SU PO KHA YO MAY BA WA
SARWA SE DE MA MAY TRA YA TSHA
SAR WA KARMA SU TSHA MAY
TSHE TAYAM SHERI YA
KU RU HUNG
HA, HA, HA, HA, HO
BA GA WAN SAR WA TA THA GA TA
BANZE BAWA MA HA
SA MA YA SA THO AA
used to cleanse yourself of the day's 'wrongs' or sings or bad actions, whichever way you want to look at it.
For white Tara:
OM TA RE TU TA RE TU RE SO WA HA
to bring wisdom
OM GATE GATE
PARA GATE
PARA SAM GATE
BODHI SVAHA
loosely translated~ may I be free of attachments
OM MANI PADME OM
~ Praise to the jewell at the heart of the lotus
Two prayers Nawang Pal taught me
Eja:
OM BAZAR SATO SA MA YA
MANU PALA YA
BANZAR SATO TEY NO PA TIE THRA
DEDO MAY BA WA
SUTO KHA YO MAY BA WA
AA NU RATO MAY BA WA
SU PO KHA YO MAY BA WA
SARWA SE DE MA MAY TRA YA TSHA
SAR WA KARMA SU TSHA MAY
TSHE TAYAM SHERI YA
KU RU HUNG
HA, HA, HA, HA, HO
BA GA WAN SAR WA TA THA GA TA
BANZE BAWA MA HA
SA MA YA SA THO AA
used to cleanse yourself of the day's 'wrongs' or sings or bad actions, whichever way you want to look at it.
For white Tara:
OM TA RE TU TA RE TU RE SO WA HA
to bring wisdom
March 24, 2010
Travel to Bhutan
I have made it! I am on the plane to Bangkok. Quite a feat, eh? After walking around the Tokyo airport searching for Sake for about 30 minutes, I returned to our gate empty handed. I will have to flaunt my independence and legal drinking age in another country. I was only in the Tokyo airport for about an hour, and I was back on another plane to Bangkok. I wish I had more time to explore Tokyo. Even the courteous head bow in incredibly intriguing and intoxicating. I have an intense urge to explore and I hope the feeling lasts for the duration of my flight. It’s about 2 a.m. my time, and 5 p.m. in Tokyo, very confusing.
Me in the Bangkok airport, about to board plane to Bhutan.
I’ve made it to Bangkok. After countless hours of travel, I am in Thailand; but not for long. We got in at 11p.m. and have a 3 a.m. wake up call in order to catch our flight to Paro. Sleeping almost isn’t even worth it. Bangkok is big, hot, crowded, and humid. Sweat stared to collect on my hands within the 5 minutes after I deboarded. Thai is unlike any language that I have come across. On the way to Bangkok I thought I’d pass the time with a Thai newspaper. I swear, their entire language consists of u’s and n’s but with weird squiggles everywhere.
I believe that I’ve been traveling roughly 36 hours now, staring when we left Sun Valley. Now, in the comfort of the Novotel in Bangkok, Thailand, I have three hours to sleep before we depart. And John just left the room because he realized that he left one of his bags in baggage claim. In order to retrieve his bag he has to somehow get though customs and get to baggage claim. Luckily both Diane and I got all of our bags, even the cowboy hat.
Rough Itinerary:
3 hours travel to Boise
9 hours sleep
5 total hours of transport to Minneapolis
12 hours to Tokyo
1 hour in airport
7 hours to Bangkok
4 hours sleep in Bangkok
3 hours to Paro
We are on the plane on our way to Thimphu. I feel the confines of my old world lifting, and the mobility to explore and find the warrior within prevailing.
Me in the Bangkok airport, about to board plane to Bhutan.
I’ve made it to Bangkok. After countless hours of travel, I am in Thailand; but not for long. We got in at 11p.m. and have a 3 a.m. wake up call in order to catch our flight to Paro. Sleeping almost isn’t even worth it. Bangkok is big, hot, crowded, and humid. Sweat stared to collect on my hands within the 5 minutes after I deboarded. Thai is unlike any language that I have come across. On the way to Bangkok I thought I’d pass the time with a Thai newspaper. I swear, their entire language consists of u’s and n’s but with weird squiggles everywhere.
I believe that I’ve been traveling roughly 36 hours now, staring when we left Sun Valley. Now, in the comfort of the Novotel in Bangkok, Thailand, I have three hours to sleep before we depart. And John just left the room because he realized that he left one of his bags in baggage claim. In order to retrieve his bag he has to somehow get though customs and get to baggage claim. Luckily both Diane and I got all of our bags, even the cowboy hat.
Rough Itinerary:
3 hours travel to Boise
9 hours sleep
5 total hours of transport to Minneapolis
12 hours to Tokyo
1 hour in airport
7 hours to Bangkok
4 hours sleep in Bangkok
3 hours to Paro
We are on the plane on our way to Thimphu. I feel the confines of my old world lifting, and the mobility to explore and find the warrior within prevailing.
March 20, 2010
Day 1
I have made the grueling trek from Sun Valley, Idaho to Boise. After three long and treacherous hours in the car, we arrived at our destination: The Hampton Hotel. After a few rushed hours of packing, I drove to John and Diane's house (my traveling companions) and we began our journey. Now, with about 7 or so hours to pass in the hotel, I am blogging and facebooking. I would be trying to sleep, but right now it is about 10 am in Bhutan. So I will try to decrease my jet lag by sleep depriving myself now and medicating myself later, roughly at 3 o'clock in Minneapolis.
I must add that my travel companions are extraordinary. The Sun Valley/Buddhist couple is refreshing and interesting. Between the radar detection doohickey that is firmly suctioned to the window so John can speed across the Camas Prairie and the two bickering over reservations, seat assignments, and hotels, this trip is going to be awesome. With John no longer allowed to make reservations or book hotels and with Diane no longer allowed to get a hotel room, it looks like my nights and travels will not be dull. But whose booking the room? I look forward to my travels with and without the couple. To reach my destination after roughly 36 hours of travel will be quite an accomplishment. Now, I just hope I won't get flagged as a security threat trying to take a Western cowboy hat into Bangkok, Thailand with potential 'illegal goods' hidden inside.
John and Diane in Boise airport, preparing for our journey.
Well, we are well into our journey. Diane is going into action and breaking out the yoga mat. I keep nervously checking my passport, afraid that it will mysteriously disappear out of my satchel against my bare stomach. The thing is damn irritating, it will be lucky if it even makes it to Bhutan and not to a dumpster in Minneapolis. John and Diane are great traveling companions. John provides the sturdy hand and aggressive, male personality while Diane is kind, gentle and gets shit done. The two together are excellent.
I’ve arrived in Minneapolis. This has possibly been one of the most exciting airports I have ever been in. The airport itself isn’t all that great, but the mind set the airport helped ease me into is. Every person was so fascinating to me. I wanted to know each individual, their lives, why they were here, what exactly in their lives had brought them here, what their family, friends, and lovers were like. I wanted to know each person, right down to his or her very core. It was incredible.
I am in seat 67E. Oh, does that not sound very far forward to you? Good, because that is the very last row in the 747, or whatever the planes are called. And does E sound like a window seat either? Nope, middle seat. That is right, middle seat in the middle row, in the back of the plane. You know the seats, the one’s that don’t recline because the backs hit the wall. Yep, 12 beautiful hours in a seat that barely reclines, right next to three toilets. Well the plane ride isn’t too long… only 12 hours right? Ha, piece of cake.
I’ve always felt awkward writing on a plane. I constantly feel like someone is looking over my shoulder; like the body-builder businessman to my left. I know that I will only be gone for a few short weeks, but I feel like I’m leaving a part of myself behind. I cut my hair, leaving that behind to rot in a dump. Am I doing that with a part of myself as well? I feel pressured to find a part of myself while on this trip. To uncover my true soul on the bottom of a mossy stone. I want to experience the trip to the fullest; but I still have the desire to escape myself. The remaining 12 episodes of Yu Yu Hakasho lingers at the back of my mind. When I return, will I even want to watch them? Do I need to? Will I be in a place where they are unnecessary and ridiculous? I want to succeed, but I don’t want to disappoint. If I have no expectations, then there can be no disappointments. But I know that even if I don’t have expectations, others will.
This journey isn’t about them, it’s about me. This is all me from here on out. No parents, no friends, no family, no teachers, no classmates, no enemies, no allies. I decide the fate of my own journey. I decide whether or not it will be shadowed by the figures of my past. Because that is what they are, they are my past. I am my future.
I must add that my travel companions are extraordinary. The Sun Valley/Buddhist couple is refreshing and interesting. Between the radar detection doohickey that is firmly suctioned to the window so John can speed across the Camas Prairie and the two bickering over reservations, seat assignments, and hotels, this trip is going to be awesome. With John no longer allowed to make reservations or book hotels and with Diane no longer allowed to get a hotel room, it looks like my nights and travels will not be dull. But whose booking the room? I look forward to my travels with and without the couple. To reach my destination after roughly 36 hours of travel will be quite an accomplishment. Now, I just hope I won't get flagged as a security threat trying to take a Western cowboy hat into Bangkok, Thailand with potential 'illegal goods' hidden inside.
John and Diane in Boise airport, preparing for our journey.
Well, we are well into our journey. Diane is going into action and breaking out the yoga mat. I keep nervously checking my passport, afraid that it will mysteriously disappear out of my satchel against my bare stomach. The thing is damn irritating, it will be lucky if it even makes it to Bhutan and not to a dumpster in Minneapolis. John and Diane are great traveling companions. John provides the sturdy hand and aggressive, male personality while Diane is kind, gentle and gets shit done. The two together are excellent.
I’ve arrived in Minneapolis. This has possibly been one of the most exciting airports I have ever been in. The airport itself isn’t all that great, but the mind set the airport helped ease me into is. Every person was so fascinating to me. I wanted to know each individual, their lives, why they were here, what exactly in their lives had brought them here, what their family, friends, and lovers were like. I wanted to know each person, right down to his or her very core. It was incredible.
I am in seat 67E. Oh, does that not sound very far forward to you? Good, because that is the very last row in the 747, or whatever the planes are called. And does E sound like a window seat either? Nope, middle seat. That is right, middle seat in the middle row, in the back of the plane. You know the seats, the one’s that don’t recline because the backs hit the wall. Yep, 12 beautiful hours in a seat that barely reclines, right next to three toilets. Well the plane ride isn’t too long… only 12 hours right? Ha, piece of cake.
I’ve always felt awkward writing on a plane. I constantly feel like someone is looking over my shoulder; like the body-builder businessman to my left. I know that I will only be gone for a few short weeks, but I feel like I’m leaving a part of myself behind. I cut my hair, leaving that behind to rot in a dump. Am I doing that with a part of myself as well? I feel pressured to find a part of myself while on this trip. To uncover my true soul on the bottom of a mossy stone. I want to experience the trip to the fullest; but I still have the desire to escape myself. The remaining 12 episodes of Yu Yu Hakasho lingers at the back of my mind. When I return, will I even want to watch them? Do I need to? Will I be in a place where they are unnecessary and ridiculous? I want to succeed, but I don’t want to disappoint. If I have no expectations, then there can be no disappointments. But I know that even if I don’t have expectations, others will.
This journey isn’t about them, it’s about me. This is all me from here on out. No parents, no friends, no family, no teachers, no classmates, no enemies, no allies. I decide the fate of my own journey. I decide whether or not it will be shadowed by the figures of my past. Because that is what they are, they are my past. I am my future.
February 25, 2010
You're doing what?!
Have you ever wondered what the hell you are doing with your life? I have. I think about what I'm doing with my life every day. But pondering what my life will be, or what I'm going to do with it, has led me down the wrong path. I should not be focusing on the why's or the how's, I should be focusing on the when. And that is now. There is no better time for me to be living my life. But I don't just want to live my life, I don't want to merely survive. I want to thrive, I want to flourish, I want to be happy.
I have tried to find the key to happiness in this small valley that I reside in; I have succeeded and failed. The happiness, the joy, the love is all there, but it feels impermanent and volatile. Old memories and past actions are weighing me down. So, I plan on leaving the valley to find happiness in far away lands.
I have tried to find the key to happiness in this small valley that I reside in; I have succeeded and failed. The happiness, the joy, the love is all there, but it feels impermanent and volatile. Old memories and past actions are weighing me down. So, I plan on leaving the valley to find happiness in far away lands.
February 23, 2010
I want to journey to the foreign lands of Bhutan, immerse myself in the culture of Buddhism, and relax my grip on life. I hope to better understand the philosophy and fully experience the religion. Buddhism has been an interest for me for a little under a year. My knowledge and wisdom in this area is limited. Traveling to Bhutan, living there for a month and studying and meditating at a nunnery will give me the opportunity I need to grasp and appreciate this philosophy.
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