Day 4 - The Impermanent Joy of Impermanence

Photo 1: Pink sunrise on white snow and dark skies.
Photo 2: Fuchsia clouds through the tree branches. Breathtaking gold brooch for 5.30am meditation!


Today was a great day. All the restlessness, or weirdness I felt yesterday stopped today. Snow falling stopped today. Heart-beating depletion stopped today. ‘Lazy days’ stopped today (‘lazy days’ are light-scheduled days, after TET celebrations). I woke up at 5.10am to be at 5.25am at the Big Hall for sitting meditation and chanting with the brothers. By the time we finished (1 hour), the sun was rising as a fuchsia stripe in the horizon, on the blue mountains, seen as through transparent paper. I survived the hour crossed-legged on the floor, and my legs and back too! I was kind of proud and definitely happy! Of course my mind was everywhere, like a frog –as the nun had said yesterday. But, bearing in mind it was my first time, I was happy with what I had achieved. It was everywhere although not in nonsense places: praying by times, praying in gratefulness and for my family and loved ones, getting assaulted by things to do, going back to respiration: observing it in mindfulness.


Why it felt like such a good day?


Quote of the day:
“Yes, your difficulties and your problems are genuine, they are real, but they will also pass.

The conditions for someone to be perfect are impermanent. The conditions for someone to be imperfect are impermanent. Do not be attached to either.”

[From “IF NOT NOW, WHEN?” by Tsem Tulku Rinpoche, www.kechara.com. Kechara is a non-profit Buddhist organization.]

Day 3- The Peaceful Pacifying Storm

Photo 1: Snowstorm in the Monastery.

Photo 2: Monks walking in the snowstorm.

Photo 3: Snowstorm from my window.

By moments I am so much into the moment that I have lost track of the day of the week or the number of the day.

When I woke up today at 6am, it was snowing; and even though it was freezing in the room, I pushed myself to get up for an hour of yoga.

Snowing non-stop. All day.

This is my first snow-storm in 3 or 4 years, and after 7 years of having plenty of them in Toronto! I do not miss them, but there is always something special about the first snow storm of the season. Although calendar-wise, this is the end of the Winter, these are my first Winter days in a long time.

There is something peaceful and magical in snowing, unlike thunder storms, where it seems that heaven wants to demonstrate its power to us, to humble us. The silence and quietness of snowing, everything seems to be in slow motion, or even stopped still for a long moment. Except for the shoveling truck driving by my road, driven by the monk who registered me and lent me his computer. Except for an occasional car passing by the main road (the main road separates the Nuns from the Monks). This oasis of peace needs no peace enhancer… I take the snow storm as a baptism for those of us visitors from the hectic world, a baptism of peace, gently convincing to slow down, to stay in, to appreciate.

Quote of the day:

“A person outer action reflects his inner mind”.

[From “IF NOT NOW, WHEN?” by Tsem Tulku Rinpoche, www.kechara.com. Kechara is a non-profit Buddhist organization.]

Day 2- Froglessness, Training to Relax and Enjoying a Nourishing Path

Photo: Rays of Sun through Dark and Orangy Skies.

During tea meditation, one of the sisters started reading a story about “froglessness”: if we put a frog on a plate, it will jump out, in any direction. It cannot stay still. That is how our mind is: trying to jump out and in any direction, all the time.


The sister that had given me the orientation explained that the main objective here is to train our minds to relax, as funny as it sounds, “train to relax”, through mindfulness. Through mindfulness we are not only happier and more aware, we also make those around us happier and we can achieve those breakthroughs. And concentration is easier. All this also helps us to smile, even when we do not feel like smiling (she recognized that even themselves they sometimes do not feel like smiling!).

At dinner, the big monk was asking me questions: “what is your name sister? Where are you from?” He said I am on a very rich spiritual path. I said I am just starting it, and I hope it is really rich. Then he provided some food for thought: “the important thing is that we enjoy, yes, we have to be strict with our practice, but smile; we are too serious, we take everything too seriously, we have to relax and smile while we practice. Whatever spiritual path we choose, it has to be nourishing.”


Warm belly and warm heart. Food is incredibly delicious, and monastics are warm, naturally warm and welcoming. By moments it seems we have known each other for some time, and not for 2 days…

Quote of the day:

The greatest mind is not about wanting other people to change; but you yourself changing and accepting other people. The greatest mind is to stop thinking when they will change. No, we should think: “When will I change?”


[From “IF NOT NOW, WHEN?” by Tsem Tulku Rinpoche, www.kechara.com. Kechara is a non-profit Buddhist organization.]

Day 2 - Craving for Quietness -inside and outside

Photo: Golden sunrise, misty blue  mountains beyond the cliff, grey sky.

They had asked for help in housekeeping, since most visitors (visitors that had come for the TET celebrations) were leaving after lunch or before. Unlike other places where there are either paid employees or monastics with specifically assigned responsibilities, this works as a community: everybody can do anything, and if help is needed, it is requested to the community. After helping to keep away and organize dishes, and turn chairs back on the floor, we had a tea-meditation in the smaller meditation hall. At first it seemed awkward to me to have meditation with food and tea (there were treats, cookies, etc). I picked the last row, close to the altar. One of the sisters invited me to move forward, so I realized I ended up sitting by Thay’s place! Having only mats and pillows to sit on the floor gives great versatility: we were sitting in a circle for this tea meditation. The meditation was a mix of sharing things, poems, singing. It was a socialized reflection, making public comments or additions.


They had asked me to stay so that one of the sisters would give me the orientation, which consisted in a guide of the way they live, and also in checking what my experience with meditation was (since I am not a Buddhist). The sister did not hide her surprise (and also some kind of relief) with my regimen of attending at least one or two silent retreats per year. Lunch was late…. We finished 1.15PM and I missed a phone call.

I realize I am not very much in a mood of socializing. Many people here –fortunately most are gone, less than 10 of us are left- try to socialize, to connect, to reach out. I only participate if they specifically ask me to. I find that monastics for some reason are interested in me, maybe because I am so quiet.

After lunch, which I decided to have by myself in the room where the piano is, since the dining room was too loud, I had a deeply relaxing siesta. Then I changed rooms -I preferred to be by myself- and went for a 40 minute run and hike. When I came back, most of the people were gone. Everything is temporary...

Day 2 - Light Start, Enlightened Perspective

“Avoid eating in excess, sleeping in excess, working in excess.” (*) Monday is structured with a light schedule, since people are leaving and also to recover from the previous days (celebrations, socializing, eating). I am grateful of this timing, since it allows me to recoup energy. I went to the meditation hall but did not get in, just looked from outside briefly -safer than interrupting-, I had 30 minutes and preferred to go for a walk, after being sitting for a day! So I went for this walk up and down the hills, and came back for a cup of green tea and hot oatmeal, enjoying the silent breakfast. The first twenty minutes of each meal are supposed to be silent, until a bell rings advising otherwise.


I realize again, how much I enjoy simple things, not just enjoy them, I find them soothing and energizing, reconstructive and liberating. Unlike 5-star life which I find exhilarating, draining, emptying, pro-dispersing of energy, distracting.

All the buildings and rooms have TNH’s (**) thoughts, like “Peace is every step”, or “Time is Now”. Although I have not been yet to any formal, serious activity, I am enjoying it already. I am grateful I can be here, now. I remember I was going to come in October ‘08, but I had an invitation to visit New Paltz instead, For some reason, going to New Paltz seemed closer to me and my life, and what my gut asked me to do. And I do not regret. I feel I was also more ready and thirsty for this type of experience now than a few months ago. Ah… timings, our desires, our wishes…! There is a saying in Spanish: “God’s timings are not our timings.”

Sometimes though, I can get impatient, so impatient because our timings may be different, but the issue is we do come with an expiration date, unlike him! Maybe this gives you a hint of why I am in the monastery. Yes, let go, “Go as a river” as one of TNH’s posters says...

(*) basic Buddhist principle.
(**) TNH stands for Thich Nath Hanh, aka Thây, Buddhist monk, zen master, poet, founder of the Eglise Bouddhique Unifieé- in the USA they have Blue Cliff Monastery (NY) and Deer Park Monastery (CA).

PHOTO: sun rising behind the meditation hall.

Day 1 - The End

I walked by the first small room with the big monk, and it was still crowded; so popular or too small of a room? I did not have the energy to find out. So although people were still hanging around, I thought it was time for dinner, scheduled for 6. I had a big bowl of veggie broth, veggies and brown rice. Not even the delicious and hot meal was able to bring me out of that almost comatose exhaustion: I forced myself to eat, although I was hungry (but exhaustion was stronger than hunger); taste was like in a dream, although it was delicious.


I told one of the sisters that I would go to sleep, regardless of any activity scheduled until bed time. All the sisters look the same to me, except someone with some obvious remarkable feature. I had never seen monks and nuns with this austerity of attire: starting with their heads, which are totally shaved for both genders. This is particularly striking in this freezing cold weather. Even the color and style of their robes make some other monastic look ostentatious.

I went to sleep 7pm and although I woke up when my roommates came in and later on when 2 ladies were snoring, I was so totally dead beat and at the same time relaxed, that I would fall asleep again and again and again, no matter what and how many attempts to interrupt my sleep.

For some reason I cannot explain, it feels like coming ‘home’.

Day 1 - Welcome to Nirvana (or a piece of it)

Photo: Path to the Green Pine Hamlet.

“Hello, hello”. Nada. But noise is coming from what I guess is the kitchen. The rest of the house and area is in total silence. “Helloooo”. Nada. Again. A nun comes out. This very young sister might have recognized my face of exhaustion, since first of all she offered tea, water, soy milk, and asked me to relax in the tea room (a small area with a few sofas around a coffee table) while she looked for the other sister. I was impressed by the simplicity and informality of the place. I have been to many other retreat places, and although simplicity is comparable, maybe because these were German places, the order was hospital-like (I mean, first-world, top-line hospital). This felt like coming into a house where people are living: tea mugs on the table, someone who had left her knitting work, books marked...


This sister explained that it was the second day of the New Year’s Celebration (Vietnamese TET), and that day of my arrival is unique: in the morning, they visit the sisters’ rooms and in the afternoon, the brothers’. It is only once a year that their rooms are open to the public and to each other. Then the older sister came, gave me a bag with linens, and showed me with her finger where I would sleep. “Now it is busy (maybe 30-40 people, including kids), but then they all go and you can have a room for yourself.” I would sleep with 5 other women, in a bunker bed (in other circumstances, I would be wondering about this experience, but in my conditions, I just want to sleep!). This other house is just as simple, but new. You can even still smell the fresh wood of the floors, doors, maybe the beds. After leaving my bags in the room, I headed to the brothers’ hamlet for a taste of that unique experience. There are 11 brothers. The first room was very small, with a big monk sitting on the floor, and people around, in a circle, food on the floor in the middle. It was too packed, so I continued to the following one. This one was large, maybe the largest room. I was not sure of entering since there seemed to be 2 or 3 circles of people and very much caught into their conversations. But a monk with the kindest and most transparent eyes I’ve seen (even though they are dark), realized I was hesitating at the door and invited me to join their circle. He invited me with hot tea and there was plenty of food too: from dried fruits, to Viet treats and western goodies. I stayed there, just observing, too tired to reach out for conversation, with a pulsating headache out of lack of sleep, lack of hydration and I cannot say emotional stuff because I think I had already faced all that while still in BA. They offer to visitors and sisters red envelopes with something in it- there was a 1-dollar bill in each. He also grabbed his Spanish guitar and started singing a beautiful quiet song that he said he had composed, inspired on Plum Village. After a while, the sisters joined him in repeating his lyrics. I wanted him not to stop singing. Even if I could not understand a word (Viet), the voice, the melody, the guitar were soothing and mesmerizing in their simplicity. Maybe understanding the lyrics would have been a distraction from this balm.

After that I went to another room at the end of the corridor, where there was a western monk and an eastern younger one, who spoke perfect Spanish (born and raised in San Francisco). The western monk offered thoughts printed in colorful paper, on a bamboo tray. I grabbed mine, had some dates and nuts, and left. I was too tired for all the festivity. When someone would leave, they would kneel, with their hands together in prayer and wish good things to each other, or thank each other. This is the message that I got in the bright  red rectangle of paper:

“We should let go of pride; we shouldn’t sleep too much, nor let ourselves fall into indolence. We should know how to live and work moderately, and not let ourselves be carried away by the majority. Let us not be caught by any dazzling appearance, and let us know how to walk away unfazed. Let us always contemplate the empty nature of all things in order to attain the quiet Nirvana.” (Sn. 942)

Caveat & Apology

If you read my first postings, and you are now reading the "Day 1- Trip to the Monastery", you may wonder if I forgot what I had warned you about: that this is not a traveling journal. I have not forgotten and it is still not! I will only be recording experiences that are unique for me and that I believe are worth sharing. If it happens that I had 6 days of unique experiences in a row, then you will see 6 days in a row.
I also need to apologize for the gap since my last posting. There were a few unexpected developments that demanded my full energy and attention, including a drastic change in plans and logistics. But, continue caravan-ing and you will know what I am talking about! I hope you enjoy this journey with me...

Day 1- The trip to the Monastery

Photo: Just checked-in. A view from my room.

Whichever way one wants to see it, the adventure has started. The time for true introspection while being in places with no safety net.

I was relieved when leaving Miami, just because the long traveling, the rushing within tight schedules, the organizing and fast decision-making trying to get life organized for the upcoming 8 months or so, was over.

Technically, Buenos Aires-Miami is an 8-hour flight non-stop. However, because of several reasons, I had a 3-hour stop-over in Panama. That meant I woke up at 5am to leave BA and I did not go to bed until 3am (BA time)! Things could have been a little bit faster if luggage had shown up earlier, the shuttle to the hotel would have shown earlier, and if my luggage would not have been the last one to get off the shuttle (this meant being the last one on the line for checking in at the hotel… yes, the whole shuttle was checking in ahead of me). And I had to wake up at 7 am for an early and packed day. Of course, I am not complaining, I would like you to feel where I was coming from. I am actually grateful that weather conditions were in my favour (in spite of playing crazy games all over: unusually terrible thunder and windstorms in Argentina, snow in Florida, bad snow and wind storms in NY), that my luggage was not lost (or delayed), and that I am now writing in a freezing upstate NY, from the coziness of a lovely, simple, welcoming monastery.

Leaving Miami was a full day of traveling, that is 2 days after the 21 hour travel day. However, it was full of little pleasant surprises, yet so meaningful in a trip like this one. I was lucky that the shuttle driver saw me waiving at him to wait for me; I might have been tight with the flight otherwise (particularly since it seems that now, this major airline –which I will keep anonymous- has embraced the good habit of punctuality!). When I arrive at Port Authority Terminal (to take the 2-hour bus to Middletown) the most unexpected thing happened to me. Unexpected because being born and raised in a big city like Buenos Aires and having visited Manhattan a few times, I am familiar with the big-city mode (people rushing, tense, maybe even bitter or in a bad mood, maybe even edgy or aggressive, go fast, get out of my way, don’t look at me, don’t even try talking at me, get out of my way I said). I am not criticizing, I am just describing. And I have to confess that I have caught myself in that mode so many times, either because it works as a defensive strategy –particularly for women- or because I might be running late otherwise. This was the last stop of the bus and I am with the driver unloading my 2 suitcases and carry-on, I am arranging them in the way I know so that I can carry them myself all together. When a guy asks: Do you need help?

Of course, automatic response: no thank you.

But then when I was about to go up the flight of stairs, he just came and grabbed one suitcase! The guy not only helped me up those stairs, we walked down to buy my ticket and then 2 floors upstairs to the gate where my bus would leave. I was feeling so bad because of too much unsolicited help- he said he had come to bring some German friends to the station after going out that night, and his only task on his day was go back home and catch some sleep. I confessed I was surprised with so much generous help, particularly in NYC. He was born in LA. In the few minutes that took us to walk through the station, we exchanged brief basic data (what you do, where from, what next). He is envious of my sabbatical and my months ahead.

The bus ride to Middletown was smooth and with Swiss punctuality. I was getting off the bus when the taxi (pre-arranged, by the Sisters’ recommendation) arrived. It was a beautiful ride, about 20-30 minutes, through the snowed hills of upstate NY. The driver was extremely friendly, and even though I was indescribably exhausted, we had a pleasant conversation seasoned with some laugh all the way, sharing anecdotes about US-Canada border-crossing, my upcoming trips, his sons, the monasteries in the region...

The “monastery” is an old simple house, that used to be a hotel. There are a couple of buildings on one side of the road, and few others on the other side. The driver left me in what was the old hotel, so that I could hopefully find someone there, although I could not see anyone. There was some scattered noise coming from the kitchen.

Why “Gypsy’s Bang”?

“Gyspsy”

QUOTE

Since the Romantic period, Gypsies have had a glamorous image for writers and artists outside their communities, evoking ideas of freedom, exotic passion, mystery, and a life close to nature. In folk tradition, however, the stereotyping is negative; Gypsies are seen as dangerous outsiders.
One inclined to a nomadic, unconventional way of life.


A person who moves from place to place as required for employment.


Dreaming about gypsies may indicate the desire to roam freely without responsibilities and obligations, or to venture forth to seek one's fortune by chance.

UNQUOTE


Why not ‘vagabond’?

QUOTE

A vagabond is an itinerant person. A vagabond is characterized by almost continuous traveling, lacking a fixed home, temporary abode, or permanent residence. Vagabonds are not bums, as bums are not known for traveling, preferring to stay in one location.
Historically, "vagabond" was a British legal term similar to vagrant, deriving from the Latin for 'purposeless wandering'.
UNQUOTE

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page

I have been moving around because of work and studies for the last 10 years. These months -sans work and sans studies- I will continue with the itinerant life, except that, unlike a vagabond, these trips are purposeful: either spending no-rush time with family, or going on trips that enable self-exploration and learning different disciplines related to the well-being (from meditation to yoga). It may seem selfish on the surface, but by investing that time in myself, I could actually make a difference in the lives of those who interact with me.

Also, just as in the Romantic period, nowadays gypsies are sometimes seen as dangerous… particularly when landing in tight, narrow-minded, non-itinerant societies. Because they do not know, they fear. Yes, ignorance is the source of all suffering.

On the other hand, some others view gypsies through a rosy glass, as having a sheer all-fun life, probably overlooking the not-short list of hindrances that this type of life entails.


As a descendant of immigrants from the other end of this world, I believe that all the concepts mentioned in the definition above swim in my bloodstream.


“Bang” is a sound generated by an explosion (usually with a positive connotation, unlike the “boom“). It would be pretentious to expect a ‘big bang’ to come out of these trips- and material for subsequent disappointment. Gypsies are usually noisy and loud, their music too (bang, bang, bang!). So, this is the beginning of a gypsy’s sound… as loud as many people want to hear, as explosive as any discovery; and if it ends up being big, then, it would be sheer pleasant shocker.



My apologies for not issuing this writing earlier… my mind was in the mode of ‘travel agency’, fine-tuning logistics for upcoming gypsying.
Coming next: chapters promised at the Big Birth.

Gypsy's Bang! Welcome to a Big birth!

Welcome to the birth of Gypsy's Bang! In the upcoming months, you will probably witness the 'big bangs' of this gypsy who is increasing the pace of her moving around, expanding the latitudes and pumping up the excitement of this journey. How Big those Bangs are, will depend on my exposure to experiences, my discipline in reflecting and in continuing with this blog, and of course, on your inputs, on our connection.


What are my plans? February: Buddhist Monastery in USA for about a week. March: India, at an unorthodox, non-religious ashram. I am not a Buddhist or a Hindu; I am 100% Western. After that…. stay tuned! (I have honestly no idea at this moment).

Warning!: if you are expecting to get a typical travelers’ journal, sorry you are in the wrong site. If you are expecting to see pictures of touristy spots around the world, sorry you are in the wrong site. If you are expecting to read detailed journal of what is ‘hot and sexy’ in the places I visit, sorry you are in the wrong site. The spirit of this blog is to share experiences with you, highlights of my weeks and/or events that inspire me to reflect. I can tell you that my mantra during this year is that I do not want to be city-hopping (or village-hopping), and I would actually prefer to stay away of cities. I would like to stay at places I visit for at least about a month.


Why am I starting a blog? For 3 main reasons, some practical, some altruistic, some sheer selfish:

a- I love to write. I have been writing for many years. People who have read my writings enjoyed them and have encouraged me to continue. I have always been sought as ‘the writer’ in most situations in life: from student life at all ages, to work and everyday family & friends life.

b- I am embarking soon in a tremendously exciting 'chapter' of this book that is called 'my sabbatical'. Yes, I have started a sabbatical year and the best is yet to come. My friends, family, colleagues and acquaintances have asked to stay in touch, to tell them about my adventures, to send pictures, to even write a journal. Having this blog is probably the most practical way to accomplish this and keep them all happy.

c- Many of these people, if not all, when they learnt about my sabbatical draft plans, said: “Oh, I envy you (but you know, the ‘good’ envy)!”, “Oh, I wish I could do that! But I cannot because of work / family / obligations / financial constraints”, “Oh, I wish I could have done that at your age! Everyone should do this at some point in their lives, ideally around your age!” “Oh, I wish I could do that, but I cannot. I admire your boldness and bravery. I wish I had them.” So, to all those people who would have liked to be my shadow in this long trip, I cannot bring them with me, but I can take to them my experiences, I can share with them the most relevant and meaningful aspects of these months. Maybe I can transform their regret and ‘good envy’ (?) in joy, awakening, or pleasure. And also, believe me my joy is greater when I can share those precious scarce good moments with others!


Thanks for stopping by, and I hope we meet at this spot again soon!



Coming soon... just until the true excitement starts:

- Why a “gypsy”?

- Who is this ‘gypsy’ really?

- Who said the adventure has not started? I am in my native Argentina after 3 years of not visiting… what does it feel like? What are my perceptions?

- It seems there is little planning… why?

- Why staying so long in all places?