A reflection on writing this blog

I'd like to take a moment to reflect here on the process of writing this blog, as this is a new endeavor for me, and I find the practice interesting. By practice, I mean the reflection of my experience in terms of not just what has expired, but also what I stand to learn from such happenings. Not only that, but it takes a bit of time to produce such writings, and given that I'm fighting off a severe bout of laziness here, it's not always on the top of my list of things to do.

The writing process itself isn't too time consuming. If you haven't noticed, my writing style is much closer to stream-of-consciousness than carefully crafted articles. If I catch myself thinking too much about what I should write, I just stop and try again on another day. Usually, I am compelled to write, as this is one way I am sharing my life with others in a place where I am, on the practical level, all alone. Essentially, I am never alone, and only my mind separates me from the rest of creation, but the fact remains, I have 28 days as a solo-traveler.

It's usually the nit-picky details that take a while, especially in Myanmar where the internet is shaky and unreliable, and any sort of photo uploading can take so long that it just becomes easier to give up. And then comes the process of editing. I write pretty fast, so errors are abundant and sometimes when I go back to read what I've written, there are parts that don't make any sense.

Additionally, having started this blog, and my journeys, I am reminded of this on occasion throughout the day and a sort of self-awareness that stems from this. What I mean by that is the dreadful yet sometimes helpful experience of thinking "What will I write about this?" Since the purpose of this blog is to write about my journey within, Buddhism, and meditation, the frequency of such self-reflective pondering into the content of my future writings can seem like torture.

Especially when I was on retreat last month for 3 weeks, it was enough to make me want to quit writing. In fact, I had been putting off writing for that very reason. In Buddhism, we want to be aware of the present moment as much as possible. So when you embark on a endeavor that you know very well will bring more thoughts into your reality, the tendency is to avoid the endeavor altogether. But then I realized, I'm not here to make things easier for myself. I'm here to challenge myself and see whether or not I fail. And if I fail, I'm here to pick myself up and try again, and again, and again. This isn't about perfection, it's about observation and honesty. It's about taking a look at myself and having the courage to not only accept what is happening, but also to share it with others who are interested (or bored) enough to read it.

Nothing is outside of the Dhamma. What that means is that the principles of Buddhist meditation aren't limited to the experience of sitting cross-legged and with the eyes closed. Quite the contrary, every moment of everyday is what this whole thing is all about. In some practices, meditation is something that is somewhat of an escape from reality. And the more I open myself up to the world about my undying love for meditation, the more I come across this perspective.

In Vipassana, or Insight meditation, the purpose is to bring mindfulness into every aspect of waking life, and for the more advanced practitioners (not me), even into the sleeping life. So the advanced Vipassana meditator practices 24/7. Does this mean they hide in a cave somewhere, away from the problems of the world? No. Well, maybe they do, especially for some amount of time, but then they re-enter the world, stronger and with more clarity, ready to face the challenges of the world and to offer that strength and clarity for the benefit of others.

So as my practice deepens, I am find myself being reminded more and more of the lack of separation between "daily life" and "meditation." Today, when I had a motorbike taxi driver take me to a nearby temple to sit for an hour, after having tried to practice mindfulness beforehand, I was reminded of this point. As I sat down and closed my eyes, I realized that the intention remained the same, and besides removing the distractions of busy Mandalay streets, nothing had changed. I didn't "go into" meditation. I was already practicing, albeit somewhat poorly. But my meditation is often poor when I sit down, cross my legs, and close my eyes, just like it is often poor when I am on the back of the motorbike taxi zipping through intersections without stoplights and traffic rules.

Yes, having the experience of "what am I going to write about this?" can be very annoying, and sort of destroying the validity of the process of stream-of-consciousness writing. When the mind brews over something, it takes the spontaneity away from it. Although this writing style of carefully planned words has it's place and can be quite beneficial, it's generally not my intention and my personal opinion is that it's not very enjoyable (to write). I find when I sit down and blurt out a page (or 5) without hardly having to blink, I not only relate to the content more but I also feel the process to be more therapeutic.

Take this writing for example, I didn't sit down to write this, I sat down to jump through the boring hoops of uploading some photos for and edit a previously written blog from about 5 days ago, but then I had one one thought, and I opened the word processor on my tablet and began blasting away. Sure, like Seinfeld, perhaps my favorite show of all time, this article is about "nothing." But on the other hand, there is something here, and I think, or feel I guess, that it's worth sharing, or at least worth writing for my sake.

And as to my inquiry into the usefulness of writing about such matters of traveling and Dhamma, versus the seemingly unavoidable and sometimes annoying aspects that sort of take you out of the moment and project the mind into the future of "What will I write about this experience," I offer no solution.

Instead, I remind myself that this is nothing but a practice and try to stay present, even if that means I am noting the experience of "annoyance arising" while I'm meditating and a waterfall of ideas for my blog is rushing through my mind. Like I said, I accept the challenge, and although I continue to question to validity of this blog's intention and success rate of keeping me in the moment, the writings continue...