I just realized i have gone more than a week without hearing a car alarm or gunshots. Not so surprising, I guess, but you know what? I haven't heard much shouting, either.
How long can you go on New York without hearing shouting?
Friday, October 1, 2010
The vippassana monastery worry
Another drala:
Ive been weathered in here inPokhara for a few days, the monsoon season this year is persisting well past it's traditional end date of Mid September. What this means is 1) i can't see the himalayas and 2) i can't go to the himalayas.
Today I learned from Bishnu, my travel agent and new friend, that there is a Vippassana monastery deep inside Chitwan National park that runs one of the intensive programs. It turns out the program starts in two days.
This will be me in a monastery, in the jungle, with no talking, no eating meat, no reading no writing, only meditating.
Th e worst part of this is that i can also eat only one meal a day, at noon.
The up side of this is that through an intensive experience of deprivation, instruction and meditation, I can take a shot at learning whether or not this contemplative life is something I want to pursue.
They are very strict. I will have to surrender my computer, camera, notebooks, books and cigarettes. Alos the cross i wear, also my watch and for some reason, all my shirts.
Why in the world do they want my shirts?
To get there i will take a taxi (or ride on Bishnu's motorbike) to a bus to a raft.
Yes, I said raft.
I'll be out of touch at least until October 14th. But, they do kick people out, and have some sobering warnings about not taking people with mental illness of any kind. Apparently people sometimes just flip out when they have n othing but their own true natures to sit with.
I live in New York, and everybody I know has some kind of mental illness.
But I am fairly conversant with my demons, at least I think I am. I suppose I will find out.
Ive been weathered in here inPokhara for a few days, the monsoon season this year is persisting well past it's traditional end date of Mid September. What this means is 1) i can't see the himalayas and 2) i can't go to the himalayas.
Today I learned from Bishnu, my travel agent and new friend, that there is a Vippassana monastery deep inside Chitwan National park that runs one of the intensive programs. It turns out the program starts in two days.
This will be me in a monastery, in the jungle, with no talking, no eating meat, no reading no writing, only meditating.
Th e worst part of this is that i can also eat only one meal a day, at noon.
The up side of this is that through an intensive experience of deprivation, instruction and meditation, I can take a shot at learning whether or not this contemplative life is something I want to pursue.
They are very strict. I will have to surrender my computer, camera, notebooks, books and cigarettes. Alos the cross i wear, also my watch and for some reason, all my shirts.
Why in the world do they want my shirts?
To get there i will take a taxi (or ride on Bishnu's motorbike) to a bus to a raft.
Yes, I said raft.
I'll be out of touch at least until October 14th. But, they do kick people out, and have some sobering warnings about not taking people with mental illness of any kind. Apparently people sometimes just flip out when they have n othing but their own true natures to sit with.
I live in New York, and everybody I know has some kind of mental illness.
But I am fairly conversant with my demons, at least I think I am. I suppose I will find out.
At the monkey temple a cobra
The other day, at the Monkey Temple, i was given a quick lesson in the fleeting nature of life. Monkey Temple is a Buddist stupa and monastery on a prominent hill outside Kathmandu.
(they call them hills, we would call it a mountain)
I had been snapping photos of the stupa (large hat shaped structure containing relics either of Buddha or a bodhisatva, which is very roughly speaking a Buddhist saint) and of the monkeys that are everywhere, when a Nepalese man jumped into my arms.
Ive been inNew York too long, probablybecause my first thougt was the ruse of distraction teams of pickpockets use.
This had a different, desperate edge though, and the man was dancing around and squealing, never taking his eyes off a spot behind me. I turned to look and there in the sunlight, on the rottenold stone paving, was a cobra. It's very distict, even when small, like this one.
I spent a few months painting murals in the reptile house at the Bronx Zoo, and have seen what cobras look like at feeding time. Lets just say it makes everyone involved very ALERT.
This one was perhaps twicwe as big around as a quarter, and was sort of probing and striking the air in front of him. The man and I looked at each other.
"Dude," I said, "you're alive." We exchanged an awkward man h u g, which apparently knows no cultural boundaries, as a croud gathered and marveled at the snake, ,which eventually lost interest and went back into the florescent green foliage. As the monkeys chattered away in the fig trees overhead, one of the guys in the crowd explained to me how glad they were, not have all escaped being bit, but because they considered cobras to be symbols of protection.
I learned later that Buddhist temples are a great place to see animals, because there is an injection against killing, so fairly helpless things. Ike monkeys, deer and yes even small cobras have learned to live where it is safe.
In the US, the monks would have been sued for allowing unsafe conditions to persist.
(they call them hills, we would call it a mountain)
I had been snapping photos of the stupa (large hat shaped structure containing relics either of Buddha or a bodhisatva, which is very roughly speaking a Buddhist saint) and of the monkeys that are everywhere, when a Nepalese man jumped into my arms.
Ive been inNew York too long, probablybecause my first thougt was the ruse of distraction teams of pickpockets use.
This had a different, desperate edge though, and the man was dancing around and squealing, never taking his eyes off a spot behind me. I turned to look and there in the sunlight, on the rottenold stone paving, was a cobra. It's very distict, even when small, like this one.
I spent a few months painting murals in the reptile house at the Bronx Zoo, and have seen what cobras look like at feeding time. Lets just say it makes everyone involved very ALERT.
This one was perhaps twicwe as big around as a quarter, and was sort of probing and striking the air in front of him. The man and I looked at each other.
"Dude," I said, "you're alive." We exchanged an awkward man h u g, which apparently knows no cultural boundaries, as a croud gathered and marveled at the snake, ,which eventually lost interest and went back into the florescent green foliage. As the monkeys chattered away in the fig trees overhead, one of the guys in the crowd explained to me how glad they were, not have all escaped being bit, but because they considered cobras to be symbols of protection.
I learned later that Buddhist temples are a great place to see animals, because there is an injection against killing, so fairly helpless things. Ike monkeys, deer and yes even small cobras have learned to live where it is safe.
In the US, the monks would have been sued for allowing unsafe conditions to persist.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)