Can't believe the first International Day of Slayer was 7 years ago already.
Went out by myself to find breakfast, saw a small place staffed only by a 9 year-old boy! I left there without buying anything, then I saw this incredible sign for a temple:
Only some of the swastikas in India are backwards or dotted, and every so often there's a real nazi flag hung up by some well-meaning Indian.
I need to find a place to do my laundry, I really don't want to have to buy soap and handwash it all.
Later:
Bucket laundry was great - so satisfying, even though it gave me another blister.
After Jim and I met up again, we hiked for 1.75 hours up a mountain:
to the most beautiful and peaceful place I've ever been - Kardang Monastery.
Here is some Santa wrapping paper I saw right outside it:
This was one of the most remote places I'd ever been, so I can't imagine how that got there unless the Tibetan Buddhist monks at the monastery celebrate Christmas.
After passing several farmers working literally by hand, we got to an apparently empty and closed building with the best view ever, and a statue of Buddha meditating and looking out over the mountains:
We looked around for people for a while but found none until an old Lahauli woman came out of nowhere and opened the door after our greeting of "namaste."
Jim follows the dogma of Buddhism, so bowed to all the cheesy Vegas-style statues inside (photos not allowed).
I did the only thing that made sense at that moment, I sat right inside the door and meditated in almost-total silence. This was the most important thing I'd done this summer:
I implemented Jim's meditation suggestion from yesterday and focused on opening myself to the goodness of the world during my inhale, and focusing entirely on the breath during the exhale.
First, I consciously chose to let go of desire and just accept love for everyone and satisfaction. This accomplished (it took a few minutes), I was back to the open and positive attitude I'd had a week earlier. I thought of how much of my life is spent in anticipation, and chose to live in the moment, remembering the scene from Fight Club where Brad Pitt tells Ed Norton that "this is the best moment of your life and you're missing it" and realized that this could be the best moment of my life, if I let it. I then did something I'd never done: I forgave each person who'd hurt me (all the ones I could think of at the time). I went through each one and thought of the circumstances that had caused them to behave as they did, then loved them. It was the first time I'd felt love for my mom in years, abstract rather than earned love, though. I couldn't stop smiling. I'd occasionally open my eyes and see the best sight ever while doing this:
This 45-minute meditation session made me realize that every religion should run on a platform of forgiveness, not guilt, as guilt is one of the biggest causes of evil. Also, I forgave young Noah for all his shameful behavior, years ago. Then I felt one with all, and realized that my elitism has held me back so much. Life is not about being the best - that is a shallow and cheap (and impossible) accomplishment, but imbuing everything you do with pure goodness is in fact the best thing to do. This made me reconsider my approach to the huge black flies that kept landing on me. I thought "What motivates them?" and realized it is a search for warmth and life and love, just as with all of us. I did not brush them off, they were not hurting me. I thanked God for all of this and asked to be able to continue with this perspective.
Jim finally came over and said we should get going. Though I wanted to stay longer, I forgave him for not seeing the light, then put 100 rupees in the donation box, the first time I ever gave money to any religious organization. I clasped my hands and bowed namaste to the woman who'd let us in, then she did the same as we both smiled so genuinely. Remembering the end of It's a Lonely Lonely World, I offered her some of my granola bar. She declined.
Jim and I left and walked off to a beautiful field with an enormous tree that had been struck by lightning:
I told him all I'd discovered, plus my experience feeling as if I could float, but he was nonplussed and made self-deprecating remarks to try to be funny. They only disrupted my perfect mood, but I forgave him, and this taught me that we hate people in order to protect ourselves from their bad influences, but we shouldn't hate, we should simply avoid. I walked away from him and filmed this
Jim started drinking from his flask of rum while I listened to "What a Wonderful World" and tried to get away from his insincerity, self-destructiveness, and closed-mindedness.
I realized I'd love to come meditate and live simply there for a while, but realized I'd get lonely.
We went down the mountain, and I listened to Ono (and Cat Power)'s "Revelations," the best spiritual I've ever heard (I'd never understood it before that moment):
I smiled and "namaste"'d everyone we passed, and they returned the favor. Jim continued his dull cloud of negativity, telling me things like "you aren't actually enlightened now" and I ran ahead of him down the mountain. Right after we passed these frightening guys who lived in a cave right next to the path (I still thought about how I can love them for being who they are, though), I turned and Jim was gone!
My positivity became concern for my friend and guide, and I ran back-and-forth asking everyone on the mountain if they'd seen him. Of course, none of those 8 people spoke English. After about 10 minutes of frantic searching, reconsidering whether positivity and love is a safe and practical way of life all of the time, after all, I went up high and looked ahead to see him far beyond me. I ran down and we both admitted to being scared for each other's safety, then he complained of being tired and I said I was ready to go again. We walked into town and passed an old Lahauli woman with 3 teeth in her head. I bowed a namaste which she returned with a smile I'll never forget. I wonder when the last time was that a stranger acknowledged her.
Jim again told me to stop acting like a baba, but he just doesn't understand any of this stuff, he studies it as a philosophy student, and it calms him, but he's not even interested in the true meaning-of-life aspects. I can try to forgive this. I do love him.
We walked back to town, not having eaten for 8 hours, exhausted, and the obvious thing to do would be go to a restaurant. Jim, however, decided we needed to buy our bus tickets.
If the monastery on top of the mountain was heaven, the bus station in Keylong is hell:
The line was huge and incredibly slow (as always) and after waiting an hour with cutting travel agents who spoke only Hindi and bought 8 tickets at a time, I was told there were no more tickets and I'd have to come back tomorrow. I returned to the room to see Jim drinking and telling me to join him. Since I'd just patiently stood, hungry and irritated, for an hour, I said we need to eat. He said to relax and offered me the booze again. I said no let's eat and he gave in. We walked a while and found an okay dhaba, whose manager lives not in the kitchen but in the dining room:
It was actually the best food we found in all of Keylong, cheap too. Then we came back and fell asleep at 9:30 pm.
I will try to hold onto the love and peace I found on that mountain forever.
Went out by myself to find breakfast, saw a small place staffed only by a 9 year-old boy! I left there without buying anything, then I saw this incredible sign for a temple:
Only some of the swastikas in India are backwards or dotted, and every so often there's a real nazi flag hung up by some well-meaning Indian.
I need to find a place to do my laundry, I really don't want to have to buy soap and handwash it all.
Later:
Bucket laundry was great - so satisfying, even though it gave me another blister.
After Jim and I met up again, we hiked for 1.75 hours up a mountain:
to the most beautiful and peaceful place I've ever been - Kardang Monastery.
Here is some Santa wrapping paper I saw right outside it:
This was one of the most remote places I'd ever been, so I can't imagine how that got there unless the Tibetan Buddhist monks at the monastery celebrate Christmas.
After passing several farmers working literally by hand, we got to an apparently empty and closed building with the best view ever, and a statue of Buddha meditating and looking out over the mountains:
We looked around for people for a while but found none until an old Lahauli woman came out of nowhere and opened the door after our greeting of "namaste."
Jim follows the dogma of Buddhism, so bowed to all the cheesy Vegas-style statues inside (photos not allowed).
I did the only thing that made sense at that moment, I sat right inside the door and meditated in almost-total silence. This was the most important thing I'd done this summer:
I implemented Jim's meditation suggestion from yesterday and focused on opening myself to the goodness of the world during my inhale, and focusing entirely on the breath during the exhale.
First, I consciously chose to let go of desire and just accept love for everyone and satisfaction. This accomplished (it took a few minutes), I was back to the open and positive attitude I'd had a week earlier. I thought of how much of my life is spent in anticipation, and chose to live in the moment, remembering the scene from Fight Club where Brad Pitt tells Ed Norton that "this is the best moment of your life and you're missing it" and realized that this could be the best moment of my life, if I let it. I then did something I'd never done: I forgave each person who'd hurt me (all the ones I could think of at the time). I went through each one and thought of the circumstances that had caused them to behave as they did, then loved them. It was the first time I'd felt love for my mom in years, abstract rather than earned love, though. I couldn't stop smiling. I'd occasionally open my eyes and see the best sight ever while doing this:
This 45-minute meditation session made me realize that every religion should run on a platform of forgiveness, not guilt, as guilt is one of the biggest causes of evil. Also, I forgave young Noah for all his shameful behavior, years ago. Then I felt one with all, and realized that my elitism has held me back so much. Life is not about being the best - that is a shallow and cheap (and impossible) accomplishment, but imbuing everything you do with pure goodness is in fact the best thing to do. This made me reconsider my approach to the huge black flies that kept landing on me. I thought "What motivates them?" and realized it is a search for warmth and life and love, just as with all of us. I did not brush them off, they were not hurting me. I thanked God for all of this and asked to be able to continue with this perspective.
Jim finally came over and said we should get going. Though I wanted to stay longer, I forgave him for not seeing the light, then put 100 rupees in the donation box, the first time I ever gave money to any religious organization. I clasped my hands and bowed namaste to the woman who'd let us in, then she did the same as we both smiled so genuinely. Remembering the end of It's a Lonely Lonely World, I offered her some of my granola bar. She declined.
Jim and I left and walked off to a beautiful field with an enormous tree that had been struck by lightning:
I told him all I'd discovered, plus my experience feeling as if I could float, but he was nonplussed and made self-deprecating remarks to try to be funny. They only disrupted my perfect mood, but I forgave him, and this taught me that we hate people in order to protect ourselves from their bad influences, but we shouldn't hate, we should simply avoid. I walked away from him and filmed this
Jim started drinking from his flask of rum while I listened to "What a Wonderful World" and tried to get away from his insincerity, self-destructiveness, and closed-mindedness.
I realized I'd love to come meditate and live simply there for a while, but realized I'd get lonely.
We went down the mountain, and I listened to Ono (and Cat Power)'s "Revelations," the best spiritual I've ever heard (I'd never understood it before that moment):
I smiled and "namaste"'d everyone we passed, and they returned the favor. Jim continued his dull cloud of negativity, telling me things like "you aren't actually enlightened now" and I ran ahead of him down the mountain. Right after we passed these frightening guys who lived in a cave right next to the path (I still thought about how I can love them for being who they are, though), I turned and Jim was gone!
My positivity became concern for my friend and guide, and I ran back-and-forth asking everyone on the mountain if they'd seen him. Of course, none of those 8 people spoke English. After about 10 minutes of frantic searching, reconsidering whether positivity and love is a safe and practical way of life all of the time, after all, I went up high and looked ahead to see him far beyond me. I ran down and we both admitted to being scared for each other's safety, then he complained of being tired and I said I was ready to go again. We walked into town and passed an old Lahauli woman with 3 teeth in her head. I bowed a namaste which she returned with a smile I'll never forget. I wonder when the last time was that a stranger acknowledged her.
Jim again told me to stop acting like a baba, but he just doesn't understand any of this stuff, he studies it as a philosophy student, and it calms him, but he's not even interested in the true meaning-of-life aspects. I can try to forgive this. I do love him.
We walked back to town, not having eaten for 8 hours, exhausted, and the obvious thing to do would be go to a restaurant. Jim, however, decided we needed to buy our bus tickets.
If the monastery on top of the mountain was heaven, the bus station in Keylong is hell:
The line was huge and incredibly slow (as always) and after waiting an hour with cutting travel agents who spoke only Hindi and bought 8 tickets at a time, I was told there were no more tickets and I'd have to come back tomorrow. I returned to the room to see Jim drinking and telling me to join him. Since I'd just patiently stood, hungry and irritated, for an hour, I said we need to eat. He said to relax and offered me the booze again. I said no let's eat and he gave in. We walked a while and found an okay dhaba, whose manager lives not in the kitchen but in the dining room:
It was actually the best food we found in all of Keylong, cheap too. Then we came back and fell asleep at 9:30 pm.I will try to hold onto the love and peace I found on that mountain forever.
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