Amma: Hugging a Living Saint

I rode on the overhead luggage rack overnight from Pondicherry to see Amma, the "hugging saint." There were a few lawless drunks in my car and so I  only let myself fall asleep halfway, clutching my bags the entire time. Although it was the second time now that I've ridden long distance in 2nd-class unreserved, it was the first time doing so overnight, which was an altogether different experience. There were far fewer passengers on the overnight, but the diversity in the people was about the same. The first time, I was in the middle of a 5-person sandwich trying to fit on a bench for 4. It was miserable. Eventually, I caught on to riding on the overhead luggage rack, but I found myself feeling very isolated from the rest of the passengers.

I think having just read an biography on Amma, and learning about her message of human unity, and spending 3 weeks in Auroville, and intentional community that also has the same vision for its purpose, I found myself actually enjoying the different characters this time. The practice is to see yourself as the same as others. So when I saw an old wrinkled lady, I'd say to myself, "Wow, I'm really old and wrinkled. I'm probably going to die soon." When I'd hear Indian women talking so loud they seemed like they are screaming at each other, I'd again remind myself, "I'm really loud, but I guess this is normal here."

The observations continued.

"I'm drunk. I'm crazy. I'm crippled. I'm diseased. I'm starving. I'm deformed."

Realizing, that if I wasn't so lucky, I could have been born as any of these other people, really helped me to accept them and practice compassion. Especially in India, people who are born in lower classes don't have any many chances to succeed. In many ways, they can't be held responsible for where they are at in life, so to judge them, would be to make a false assumption.

Speaking of assumptions, I hope you're not making one now in regards to how realized I think I am in this practice. This is not just something that we can decide on. Most of us have grown up in places where we are conditioned to see ourselves as being separate from one another. We have to work hard, develop ourselves, and compete with others in order to succeed. To undo this conditioning, we have to do the work, and it takes time. I still found myself being annoyed by the loud people and disgusted by the deformed freaks, but then, if I was mindful, I'd remind myself that I'm essentially no different. We are all in one human family, and inside of us, we all have beating hearts. When the judgments, come, you can then practice being aware of the judgments, simply by labeling them as so. In this way, we can practice mindfulness, acceptance, compassion, and non-duality all at the same time, and it can really help to make a somewhat uncomfortable situation more manageable.

When I arrived at the Yesvantur station in Bangalore, I knew I had to take one last short distance train to Bangalore City station. I found out what platform I could expect the train on, and made the mistake of boarding the first train with a "Bangalore City" sign on it and didn't realize the mistake until it was too late. After we left the station, I was feeling a little uncertain about my decision and asked a guy who seemed friendly enough to help. "No, this train just came from Bangalore City, and is now going in the wrong direction. The next stop is an hour out."

I had to act quickly, as we were getting farther and farther from where I need to go. I stood in the open doorway, looking down over the large jagged rocks go by the line the tracks. I was feeling sick to my stomach. I had a couchsurfing host lined up and plans to meet him at the Bangalore City station an hour later. If I had to wait another hour to get off the train I was on, and then possibly wait some time for the next train going back to Yesvanpur, I was going to be really late and possibly miss out on the opportunity to have a nice place to crash for 2 nights.

I knew the train was going too fast to jump, so I decided that if it slowed down a bit, I'd take my chances. I had my big pack on, and a smaller backpack on my chest. The train slowed down. Unsure if I could "run it out," I made a leap of faith. As it turned out, we were going too fast to run it out, and with the two bags on, I was probably too awkward to do so anyhow. I took one step with my left foot and slammed down hard on the rocks. I put my left hand down to catch my fall, and then the right side of my body took the rest of the impact as I sort of rolled and bounced up. It was about 6:30 in the morning, and I hadn't slept much the night before, and my frame of mind was needless to say, a bit delirious. The shock of what I had just done left me stunned, and my reaction was just to start laughing.

As soon as I got myself a few feet from the passing train, I looked up and made eye contact with the conductor, who had somewhat ironically slowed way down, probably also in shock at what he had just seen. His eyes were big and so was the smile on my face. It was only after the train wizzed by that I felt the pain. I had already started to book it back, not wanting to waste any time, and realized that I had a pretty good limp going. Still in shock, I just kept moving. I looked down at my left had and realized that it was bleeding pretty bad, and had been cut in a few places. I was wearing two shirts, and could see a little blood coming through on top of my right shoulder. My knee hurt too, but the long pants I was wearing prevented the skin from breaking. It was only after looking in a mirror later that I realized I also had a red spot and a bump on the side of my head.

I was still in good enough condition to jog back to the station, and caught the next train to Bangalore City. Whenever a beggar approached, I'd just smile and hold up my bloody left hand and they'd instantly turn around. I guess them seeing me banged up sort of put us on the same level, which somehow made the practice of seeing myself in others complete. I took advantage of the free medical clinic at the station and got myself cleaned up. The young doctor was really friendly, but couldn't accept the fact that I was from the US and wasn't a Christian. He cleaned me up, gave me a free cup of chai, let me use his cell phone, and added me on facebook before making me promise to take another look at the Bible before he let me go.

My couchsurfing host's meeting ended up going a bit longer than expected, so he had me take a short rickshaw trip to the hotel where he was and wait in the lobby. The place was super nice, probably 5 star, and had a badass doorman that had huge chops and was super friendly. I kind of just walked in and made myself at home, and the service was so good that they didn't treat me any differently for looking like a hobo and sitting in the lobby with my bags for an hour or so. They even gave me the password for the wi-fi, and so I took advantage.

My couchsurfing host ended up being a really nice guy who is well-off and has made me feel right at home. I even have my own bedroom with private bathroom and he had his assistant/maid make all of our meals yesterday. Today, I woke up early and went clear across the city to Mata Amritanadnamayi Math Ashram, to see Amma and participate in her Darshan.

Darshan is a Sanskrit word that means something like an auspicious viewing. Basically, this Amma woman is believed to be one with the divine, and travels the world so her devotees can come to see her at these events. In the morning, there is a program of Bhajans (devotional singing) and a few different people who give a talk. Then, in the afternoon, she starts the hugging. She gets her nickname from the fact that she hugs each devotee, one by one, every time. What this means, when thousands come to see her, is that there is a line of people waiting to be hugged that can last late into the night. Apparently, she was still hugging last night at 3am.

The reason why I dropped everything at Sadhana Forest to come 10 hours overnight to be hugged by this woman is that the experience is said to be nothing shy of magical. After having been hugged by her tonight, I can't disagree. She is an endless source of compassion and love, embracing each devotee as if she was full of energy and there is nothing else in the world she'd rather be doing. Just watching the line of people and the mass surrounding her made me uneasy. I was tired and my cue to get in line wasn't until about 7 hours after the hugging began. To my surprise, by the time I got to her, she was just as enthusiastic and present as she was for the very first person.

She wore the biggest smile on her face that one could ever wear, and the fact that it lasted as long as it did was an indication of just how genuine it was. How is it possible for someone to sit there, cross-legged, for such a period of time, hugging random strangers, and not have to get up to use the bathroom or take any sort of break? The only food she would eat was if one of her devotees brought a piece of candy or something in which she would just pop it in her mouth. She would eat anything you brought her, even though her entourage was almost like a Hindu version of the secret service. She is very well protected, but once you see her, she has complete trust in you.

There are stories of people who have tried to kill her, and anyone who wants her dead is just as welcome in her eyes as those who love her. She really does treat each and every person the same, as a child of God. Those who have tried to harm her have never succeeded, except for her own family as she was growing up. They basically made her the servant of the family and beat her mercilessly until it was obvious who and what she really was. One time, a man came to poison her, and knowing that it was poison, she still drank it, and continued hugging as if nothing happened. A few minutes later, she apparently turned to the side and vomited out the poison and carried on with her Darshan. Another time, her cousin tried to stab her in the chest with a knife. As the tip of the knife reached her skin, the man froze, and suffered severe pain the same area on his own body that had tried to stab Amma in. He later ended up dying from this strange injury, but not before she forgave him for trying to kill her. She said that he had to pay the consequences for his actions, but she never treated him differently before he passed.

I'm not here to say whether or not Amma is in fact one with the divine, but just that this woman is truly special and that if you ever get an opportunity to go see her, I highly recommend it. The actual experience of going on stage and hugging her was something I'll never forget. She is just like a child, full of life and completely spontaneous. While interacting with a kid a few feet in front of me, she bugged out her eyes and made the craziest face I've ever seen. I couldn't stop laughing, and when it came time my turn, I felt as though I had entered a dream. The look on her face was as though she was possessed, which in a way, is exactly what many believe her to be, possessed by God.

According to her website, she has hugged 32 million people worldwide and visited 20 countries last year alone. I don't expect you to have any sort of blind faith in her, neither did I. That's why I knew I had to come see for myself, and although I didn't have any expectations, I wasn't disappointed. It's not something that looks good on paper, it's an experience. It's something that only the heart can know and the mind will never understand. If nothing else, it is proof of the kindness and compassion of the human spirit, someone who had devoted their entire life for others, without expecting anything in return. This is good-will, without a trace of the ego, and something that we can all be inspired by. I know I am, and I can only hope that my future actions will show it. If nothing else, I'm setting the intention now to practice seeing the good in people, seeing our inherent oneness, and treating others accordingly.

Learn more about Amma's future travel plans and humanitarian programs at:

www.amma.org

Going with the flow

For whatever reason, since my last post, I've written many articles and decided to publish none of them. I think it was because the content was more factual than experiential, too much like writing a travel blog, which usually serves to only help people who are or will venture to the same places. As that was never the intended purpose of this blog, and although it has evolved and changed a bit since it's initiation, I feel better about publishing content that comes from the heart. Sometimes, when I'm just living, I'm not reflecting. Reflecting is a way of re-experiencing the past hopefully for an intended purpose. So it doesn't make sense to always be reflecting, only when necessary.

Today, I woke up and many changes are on the horizon for me, so I felt the need to put it to paper and finally get something published again.

After leaving the ashram in Goa, I considered my options and made a quick decision to head to the east coast, to Tamil Nadu, where there is a very strange and forward looking city-in-the-making called Auroville. I won't go in to too much detail, as I did already in an article that I decided not to post, so if you want to learn more, you can visit their website by putting a .org after the name. In short, it is a community of 2,400 people, 45% Indians and the rest representing 49 countries. At the moment, it consists of many different smaller projects and communities, and hopes to someday grow to be a city of 50,000. It is a vision held by a woman who was known as "the Mother," who was the spiritual side-kick of a political and spiritual giant of India's 20th century known as Sri Aurobindo. The whole place, though largely undeveloped, is unlike anything I've ever seen, especially the large golf-ball looking building at the center that is called the Matrimandir. Having gone inside last weekend for a limited access meditation session, I can easily say it is the most elegantly beautiful and serene building I've ever had the pleasure of visiting. It was like visiting the future, or boarding a spaceship, and the entire atmosphere surrounding the place is quite effective for calming the mind, which was the desired intention. It took around 40 years to build this thing, and the icing on the cake is the large crystal ball in the center of the structure which uses a beam of sunlight to light up the room. If you are ever in SE India, it's well worth it to come check this place out.

One of the projects in Auroville is where I've been staying for the past 2.5 weeks. It is a reforestation project called Sadhana Forest, which can aslo be found by putting a .org after the name, and is a volunteer based effort to plant trees and save a forest that was cut down to build the neighboring city of Pondicherry, which was a French colony. This community is also worth a mention, as it is quite developed and impressive, far from the hippie commune that we all tend to think of from the 60's or 70's. One thing that really separates this place from that model is that this is a completely sober environment. Volunteers can come and go in their free-time, but agree to refrain from using drugs, alcohol, and even tobacco on or off the premises, for the duration of their stay.

Not only that, but it is entirely vegan, so no animal products, or products that use animals for testing, are permitted. There are solar panels to provide all the energy, and a well to provide the water. We carry buckets of water to pour on our heads in outdoor stalls to take a shower, and of course, have to use a certain kind of soap. Clothes are washed on a large slab by rubbing another type of special soap and then using a brush to rub it in. Then, if you desire, you can windmill the article into the slab to slap out the water as you may have seen Indians doing on TV or in real life if you have been here. To use the bathroom, you have to squat down to hit a hole that is in the middle of a large lid that covers a huge 50 gallon barrel that is buried underground. If you need to pee at the same time, there is a little pan with a handle that you put in front of you. Believe me, it takes a couple days to master. After, you throw sawdust in the poo-hole, which after a year or so will become compost for planting trees, and dump your pee in a separate container that will be used to fertilize the banana trees. Pouring some water on your left hand, you wipe your bum with you bare hand, and then somehow manage to pull up your pants with your right hand, open the door with your right, and head out to he hand wash station.

There is a reason why Indians always use their right hand to eat.

The handwash stations, scattered around the community of roughly 50 structures and numerous pathways, are two tin cups screwed into a post. One holds a plastic bottle with a small hole in the lid. The other tin can is empty and has a small hole in the bottom of it. Next to every post is a large basin full of water, and some iodine for good measure. Using your right hand, you fill up a cup that sits on top of the basin and pour it in the empty tin cup on the post. As the water slowly runs out through the small hole in the bottom, you spray soap from the plastic bottle into your left hand and then give them a good wash. This way, they can avoid using running water here and also preserve the amount of water necessary for simple daily tasks.

At the moment, there are around 80 people in the community, but there was over 130 when I first got here. Every week, in addition to planting trees, volunteers are asked to help do various tasks to maintain the community, all of which are very organized and scheduled, and can also participate or lead community workshops in their free-time. There are always yoga classes on the weekends, people giving massage or dance classes, a weekly talent show, a weekly kirtan (deotional Hindu chanting), various forms of meditation groups, a weekly sharing meeting, and on Firdays, an eco-film club invities in people from Auroville to screen a documentary and serve food for up to 200 people. So the community is vibrant, with new people arriving all the time, and the weeks are jam packed with things to do.

I myself have really enjoyed being here, and looking back, understand that if I would have never left the ashram in Goa, I would have never had the time to come. Some of the people I've met here have really touched my life and many of them have plans to travel to Thailand next, so we will all be staying in touch. It's an experience I will never forget, and I will look to make a return visit in the upcoming years. It actually feels really good to work for free, together with other like-minded individuals, for a greater cause. But I know that we as humans are more selfish than that. We come here to hang out in a commune painted with thatched huts, where spontaneous jam sessions and intelligent conversations are around every corner. We all come for an experience, and that is exactly what we get.

Another thing we get, is sick. Almost everyone here gets sick, and it finally happened to me a few days ago. Not only did I get the stomach thing, but it was also accompanied by a really high fever. I was wrapped in two thick wool blankets during the hot day (it gets quite cold here at night), and I was shivering as if I was back in Alaska. I kept coming in and out of this world and another one, trapped between being awake and dreaming. When I would wake up, I usually had no recollection of where I was, and I'd just sort of roll around in agony until going back into another nightmare. Eventually, the team of ladies here that work in the healing hut, suggested that I visit the local hospital. I had a friend go with me, and we spent most of the day and a night in a private room with nurses in and out to check on me. I didn't really care how much it cost me, the fact that it had an attached bathroom with a toilet was worth any price in my condition. 22 of the 32 times that I had what they were calling a "loose motion," were in that hospital, and I can't imagine having to squat over that small holed lid that many times back here in Sadhana Forest.

But being sick, like everything else, is all just part of the ride. One minute's agony is the next minute's source of comedy. Besides, getting sick in India is something that you almost want to happen early, so you can get it over with. Now that I am almost completely recovered, I feel like I've been reborn, and I am taking this new life as a chance to take advantage of what I'm being led to do. I have many ideas, most of which are my own, but another one was just presented to me, through chance or some sort of divine intervention, and I am keen to pick up on the hint.

After finishing reading an autobiography about the spiritual leader in India known as "Amma," which means mother (but not to be confused with "the Mother"), I went back to the community library to look for another book. I usually pick my books naturally, by what I feel drawn to, rather than by what my mind desires to read next. Yesterday, I put the Amma book back, scanned the books, and reached for the first one that was calling me. To my surprise, it was the exact same book that I had just read, but with a different cover design! The spine of the book didn't indicate the title, so there was no way I could have known it was the same book. Thinking it strange that I picked that book out of the couple hundred books in the library, I put it back and picked another, called "Sacred Journey." When I pulled the book out, lo and behold, the cover was a giant picture of Amma. To me, this was almost scary, and my reaction was to shove it back and find another book.

After running to the bathroom for a bit of residual internal cleansing, I went back to the library and picked up the Sacred Journey book again. If I am supposed to be open to the universe providing me guidance, it would be hard to discredit the signs I had been given. So I went to the wi-fi section of the main hut and checked Amma's schedule. She will be in the general area of India that I am in later in the week, and now I know, I must go. So my stay here at this community will be cut a bit shorter than expected, but I am incredibly grateful for the wonderful platform that it has been for me to regroup, refocus, and find the next step of my journey in this crazy world.

I've thoroughly enjoyed my time here, resting, reading, meditating, doing yoga, and making new friends. I've enjoyed working with my hands in the kitchen and planting trees in the earth. And, I've even taken the opportunity to reserve a spot for an upcoming yoga teacher training course in March in Rishikesh, which will be at the tail end of my stay in India and complete the original purpose for my travels here. Before I got sick, I spent a week doing a raw food diet experiment and was waking up early to lead a 5am meditation group. The experiment, if nothing else, helped me shed a few extra pounds and really put me in touch with all the desire and craving that surrounds food in my life. There's no way I could have planned for things to unfold in this way, and I am learning to rest in this uncertainty and the beauty that follows.

Although I like to entertain ideas and utopian ideals, I'm also realistic and honest enough to see that they're often not grounded in reality. I believe in the good-natured essence of humanity, but I also see that this essence is covered up with selfishness, laziness, and greed. If there is no reward for the the work, and there is no one to enforce it, many people try to slide under the radar and not live up their responsibilities. So I have taken this opportunity to be still and observe.

I've observed myself in all the ways I have both jumped at the many opportunities to help and also stayed in the shadows, not wanting to do more than I am expected to. I've noticed all the times my mind has judged others for their actions, and the tendency to see myself as different than them. I've noticed others, both reaching out to lend a helping hand and sitting idle, not wanting to give up a weekend to help out a sick person. As I understand it, and as taught by saints and sages around the world for thousands of years, we must do the work to shed these layers that separate us from others and put us first. That work can come in many forms, but in general, it includes some sort of spiritual practice such as meditation, in order to identify the problems and create the space in our lives in which to let go of them.

So as much as this place is really amazing and the people here are inspiring, I feel that no place is going to be perfect, and that at the end of the day, I remain alone in this world. I don't relate to anyone with everything, and living in a community of mostly like-minded individuals really has served to make that clear to me. My journey will continue, leading me to new places and experiences, and I can only hope that they prove to be half as meaningful as this stage of my journey has been. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better experience, and I see all the things that had to go right, or wrong, to allow me to be here. When one door closes, another opens, and I'm really starting to see that all things that come my way have their own importance, even though they may first appear as negative. I am feeling rested, inspired, healthy, and prepared to head out into the busy world, in search for a little bit of inner peace. Thanks for listening!

Refocusing my efforts

I arrived at the airport in Goa at about 6am on Tuesday, feeling pretty good that I could avoid the nightmare of trying to deal with taxi-drivers on account of having already arranged a taxi from the ashram to come pick me up. But when I went out front of the relatively small airport, there was no one there holding a sign with my name on it, as promised. When no one showed up, the taxi drivers picked up their sales pressure, hoping to snag the job of driving me all the way to the southern part of the province, which runs about 30 bucks if you haggle and makes for a pretty penny for a local Indian. Not knowing what to do, I ended up borrowing one of the driver's phones to call the ashram. I pretty much knew that if there wasn't a car already on the way, I'd be obligated to hire the driver who lent me his phone, which sucked because I didn't necessarily like the guy to begin with.

The news came from the phone call that they weren't coming. They thought it was 6pm that I was coming, a convenient excuse since I had already sent them my itinerary. Without too many options, I talked the guy down from $36 to $30 and we were off. Just a mile or two down the road, we passed another taxi that my driver started honking at and then pulled over once we had gone around him. He got out and went to talk to him. I didn't know if they were friends or if he was going to fight him, but when he came back, he pulled out my bag and said I was going with this other guy. Again, not much of a choice here, so I went along with it fine. The new driver was much more friendly, and claimed to have known where it was that I was going.

But he didn't. He knew the general idea. Very general, and his sense of direction got us about 10-15km from the actual ashram and we had to stop and ask locals at least 5 or 6 times before he was satisfied. When we finally got there, he asked to be paid more than the 1,500 rupees that we had already agreed upon, arguing that the trip ended up being longer than expected. "That's funny," I said, "because you told me you knew where it was already!" I told him that by lying to me, he lost out on any chance of being paid extra. If he would have told me he knew the area, I would have been sympathetic and paid extra, but he assured me he knew exactly the place. Typical.

So it was probably 8:30 or 9 by the time I arrived, and we flagged down a group of Japanese yogis and yoginis headed to the beach to get final confirmation that the large, run-down hotel looking structure was in fact the ashram. With a lack of sign other than an old painted on sign that read hotel and bar, it was hard to believe that I had come all the way from Thailand for this. To make matters even better, there was really no one there to welcome me. The driver yelled into the kitchen and some Indian people came out asking who I was. They had to make a phone call, apparently to the main office, and confirmed that they had a room for me. "Just wait here for a few minutes and someone will come take you to your room." "The room isn't here," I asked?

No, no, it wasn't there. It was about a 1/2 kilometer away, in what I can only call an actual shack that was painted blue. The color was the only thing that I liked about it. It was built on a slanted concrete slab and made out of 1/4" plywood. It had an attached bathroom, which might have been impressive, with the exception of the lack of functionality. Note to all: you can't install a sink into 1/4" plywood, especially when it leaks. The moistened wood had no chance of holding up the sink, so it sloped forward a good amount that made draining the water a challenge and any attempt to put a bar of soap or a toothbrush on the little ledge just led to them slipping into the basin. Nor was there any hooks or racks or shelves of any sort. And the door, being on a downward slope, closed behind you as you entered as if it were on a spring. Not a sweet combo.

The place was must have been some sort of a breeding ground for mosquitoes and the fan only worked sometimes. No mosquito net either, in a place where there is malaria. It was hard to believe the ashram had my best interests in mind. When you travel overseas and pay good money to train somewhere, you at least expect a welcome and a decent facility. This place had neither. The atmosphere was strange too. It was like a bunch of people living there and yoga was part of it, but not all of it. With only 3 classes scheduled a day, most of the day was free-time. It was like a social gathering more than a training facility. Everyone seemed to jump at the opportunity to talk about themselves and how wonderful and spiritual they are.

If I was in the US, I would think this place was the ultimate, but since I came to India and am in the birthplace of yoga, I couldn't settle for the sort of operation they were running. So I left. I told one of the senior students, for a lack of understanding that any sort of real faculty existed, and was quickly on my way. The local community I was living in was basically there to support the ashram. They had a restaurant going and offered other things such as a taxi service, so I hired them to take me to the next town over to the train station. "The train leaves at 3," he said, but when I got to the train station at 2, I had already missed the last train. Luckily, the bus station was just a 15 minute sweaty walk away, and before I knew it, I was headed north to freedom.

I had to take 4 different buses to get to the place in north Goa where my friend owns a restaurant, and am now posted up in a nice little guest house at $11/night that will be my home for a little while now. I had a nice day today of walking around and took advantage of having a huge balcony/common area to myself to use for yoga and meditation. I got a 5 minute palm reading for about $1.50 and saw an Ayurvedic doctor to get some medicine for the wrist problem I have. I guess I'll regroup here and consider my options. And since I have come to devote this blog to the relevancy of everyday situations to the spiritual path, I must now make an effort to put this into some sort of perspective

If you don't like a situation you are in, change it. It's not about control, it's about acceptance. I understand this a bit of a dichotomy. How is change not control? It's because by admitting that you don't like something, and want to leave, you are just honoring what is. I have been in plenty of meditation centers that I wanted to leave, but I stayed because I trusted that it was a good place for me to be, and that I only wanted to leave because it was so much of a challenge. This was not the case. I wanted to leave this place because they lost my trust, and I felt that it was not a good place for me to be. Call it an intuition, or what you will, but there was some feeling within me that told me that I didn't belong there, at least not at this time. Honoring this feeling is not about assuming some ability to control, it's about accepting that it is indeed arising.

When your intuition is telling you to do something, and you do the opposite, you are practicing control. When you listen to your inner guidance, even if it's telling you to take action, it's still a matter of acceptance. To stay would have been to fight. To leave, was easy. On the contrary, it would have been very difficult to walk out any one of the monasteries or meditation centers that I've stayed at. During none of those times did I feel a calling to leave. The only thoughts I had about leaving were easy to see as coming from the head, but my calling to leave this ashram came from the heart. Not always is there an obvious difference, but when we tune in and listen to ourselves, we can learn to decipher.

I'm willing to admit that I may have made a mistake. I don't want to write this in a attempt to justify my actions, but rather to reinforce this idea that acknowledges honoring signals of guidance that come from within. Without this, what do we have? We have other people, society, and thoughts based on fear. If we are getting messages from these sources only, any decisions we make will never be our own. Sometimes it feels good to take matters into our own hands and accept that what we need to do for ourselves is not what we already find ourselves doing. When the main purpose of this path is liberation, or freedom, it's easy to see that it's important to free free, not just in the mind but from the heart.

So how to tell the difference?

The mind changes from minute to minute, always unsure of what it holds to be valid and important. The heart, on the other hand, retains its stance on a matter over a longer period of time. This is really the indication that tells us that something really does come from the heart. It's sort of the idea that it's wise, when making important decisions, to "sleep on it." This is honoring the heart's intentions, knowing that unlike the mind, the heart doesn't need to compare pros and cons and simply knows. With this being said, it also acknowledges that the initial reactive tendency to think what you feel is from the heart may very well be from the mind.

Giving yourself time to think it over is really a way of saying that time will tell what the heart feels. A feeling is different from a thought, it is more inspired. Thoughts are mostly random, and even though they have causes, they don't always carry any sort of justification. If you watch your mind over time, you will see how many times it will go back and forth on any matter at hand. Rarely is it convinced and remains the same.

So what I can say is that I intend to continue to trust my intuition to guide me to act in ways that serve my higher purpose, whatever that means in any given situation. I can only trust that this practice will help to keep me safe, to keep me aligned with my purpose in this life, and will make the rest of my stay in India worthwhile. I hope that you do the same.

Installing New Years intentions into your neural hard-drive

I noticed at some point today that I sort of failed to firmly establish my intentions for the new year, so I want to make an effort to do so now. Three things happened to me today as I was leaving  that inspired these intentions, and of course, they are just three that stack on to a list that continues to grow as I continue to get older. While I used a systematic approach to becoming a vegetarian, and establishing daily yoga and meditation practices, I am sort of loosening up my self-imposed rules, finding that now that I have determination and am inspired to improve my life, I can judge from moment-to-moment and not have to rely on a former version of myself to keep me in line.

Here are my intentions for 2013 & their stories:

 1.     Don't take crap from anyone, but handle it with grace. 

My girlfriend and I arrived at the Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok today with over 3 hours to spare before my flight to Mumbai. Our idea was to get in line early, get my boarding pass, and then eat dinner together before we had to say our goodbyes. We got into a neatly filed line about 10 minutes prior to the opening of the check-in counters. There was maybe 30 people in front of us, and so I was feeling pretty good about our dinner plans.

As soon as they opened the check-in counters, things started to get a bit crazy, and in my mind, there was no confusion as to why. Although the line started as a single entity, it turned to more of a stampede. When they opened up the first class line to the left of the economy class line, the first class passengers began to break off and follow suit. It wasn't that difficult to figure out what was happening, and there really wasn't anyone who seemed to be baffled by it, with the exception of one guy, whose actions created a whole chain of events that stirred up the order and had the majority of the passengers lost for an answer of what was going on.

So, as I said, there was the 1st class line on the left, and the economy class on the right. What this guy did, was come in front of all of us in the economy line on the right-hand side, and then started yelling to his oversize family in the back to come on forward, that the water was fine. At first, I didn't really catch on to what was happening. I think I was talking to my girlfriend at the time, and sort of vaguely remember seeing him shouting across the open floor, but in a language I didn't understand. I didn't think much of it, and even though I had seen this guy sitting down when I first arrived, it didn't occur to me that he was attempting to stage one of the least-sneaky multiple-person acts of cutting in line that I had ever seen.

It was around the time when I saw his giant wife (she was hard to miss) and the rest of the gang, including what must have been brothers or cousins and perhaps members of their families, come wheeling up with their little carts overflowing with luggage, that I started to catch on. "Hmm, that's peculiar, could have sworn I saw those people relaxing casually on the benches as I was bracing the old legs and standing in line." I started to pay attention, and as the line was now moving, and people from behind us also started to take his lead and just gun for the finish line, I picked up my pace and tried to secure my position.  He was still shouting frantically, and it seemed he was trying to convince his family that it was a legitimate move to go around the outside, right to the front, and then use the sheer size and weight of them to cut off the people who had been waiting there.

Luckily, it seemed some of the others in front of me started to catch on too and kind of asked what exactly it was this guy thought he was doing. He was still shouting, and changed to English and was rattling off like a madman something about how the line we were all in was the 1st class line and that he was making a new line for the economy class. "Wow, hard to believe, since the single file 1st class line is already firmly established and just a few feet to the left of me." I noticed that my heart began to race, and my instinct was just to set this guy straight, like I wouldn't have hesitated to do back when I didn't have any consideration for the average person. Now that I am practicing compassion for all living beings, I restrained, but still chose to act.

If someone is trying to push you over, you can still stand up for yourself without stooping to their level.

As the guy was met with more and more resistance, he kept shouting in his native language to his family, which was now mostly gathered awkwardly at a 45° angle at the mouth of the retractable seat-belt gates, in which what to me was an obvious attempt to divert people's attention and confuse them. But what if my assumption was wrong? What if he really thought that all the people in front of him were in the 1st class line and that his actions were justified? I highly doubt it, as the guy looked to be working with at least a functioning level of intelligence, but who am I to say really, I hadn't even had the chance to meet the guy yet.

"Yeah we are all here in line buddy," I yelled out from a distance now of about 10 feet, and he looked right at me as I used my hand in a nice clear sweeping gesture to indicate the body of individuals in front of me whose positions he was attempting to steal. I left it at that. I figure that if someone is going to try to cut in front of me, and use some sort of diversion and language barrier tactic in hopes that I won't even notice or realize what is going on, I won't try to stop him, but I'll leave him with a nice guilt trip by clearly stating that I know exactly what he is doing. The tone in my voice was firm but without anger. My girlfriend and I looked at each other and just short of shook our heads, as if to say, "Who the hell does this guy think he is?" "Stupid," she said, and then we sort of laughed a bit.

But the game wasn't over, it had just begun. Now that there was no clear way for newcomers to determine the order of a line that resembled more of a gathering for a concert, people were just sweeping in with their carts from all directions, and my girlfriend and I worked together, blocking lanes, and re-positioning our cart to jockey for position, but there was just too many of them. I had lost the little smile that sort of thought the whole thing was funny and was now facing the risk of ending up at the back of a line that I used to be towards the front of. In a last minute move of desperation, I grabbed my bags off the cart that my girlfriend was pushing and told her to retreat with the cart and to meet me once I had cleared the mouth of the retractable seat-belts, where order could more easily be established. From there on out, I was going in solo.

I didn't have a plan, but I just went for it. Should I cut off the lady with art supplies to my left or address the growing concern of a mob trying to flank in from the right, headed by the Indian man who started the whole madness, and his family, who had still failed to weasel their way in? "Just stand my ground in the center, and stay close to the big white dude in front of me," I told myself. I did too, real close. I stayed about 4-6 inches off his back, breathing down his neck, hoping that he wouldn't turn around and knock me out. But he didn't, and when I heard him mutter something about how ridiculous the whole thing had become, I assumed that he had some sort of hope for the well-being of his fellow Caucasian brother behind him. His sheer size and unphased demeanor was like a fortress for me, and the plan worked like a charm. When it came to the final test, right at the mouth of the retractable seat-belts, the planets aligned perfectly and I was able to walk right past all the people who were planning their next move and maintained the order of the original line.

I stayed so close to the guy in front of me, that all those people with their stupid little carts didn't have a chance to get their noses in front of me. "Exactly why I ditched my cart," I thought. As I walked past the guy and his family, I saw him pointing at me, saying something in his native tongue, which I took as something to the effect of, "Can you believe this guy?" Hahaha, WHAT! Maybe he had forgotten just minutes earlier when I called him out in front of everyone. "I hope I don't sit next to him on the plane..."

But that's a good point really, if I didn't handle that situation with grace, and reacted instead with anger, it is easy to see how that could have come back to haunt me. Now, I feel like I could share a cab with the guy once we get to India, and that I really have no hard feelings about the whole thing at all. In fact, it was pretty funny, looking back on it. Maybe that's just because I got lucky, played my cards right and never had to wait any longer than I would have it it never happened, but I also think it's because I restrained from reacting, and even though I got a little aggressive on the offense, and felt uneasy the entire time, I never stooped down to his level.

I see that I still have work to do, because ideally, the actions of others wouldn't prove to be such a threat to my happiness. But at least the first step, of non-reactivity, kept my suffering from getting out of line.

On account of this event that transpired today, I hereby intend to stand up for myself without losing my cool, and try my best to not let my personal emotions to allow reactivity. In short, I intend to respond instead of react.


 2.     If someone needs sympathy, give it to them.  

Another, smaller group, that for a moment looked like  were going to get away with an even sneakier card to cut in line back at the check-in, ended up being right in front of me as I boarded the plane. I instantly recognized this young, international couple of an Indian man and a Caucasian woman, but since they too failed at their attempt to beat me in the line, I had no negativity bubble up with the exception of a slight recognition of "Oh, those two."

Their previous attempt at cutting went a little something like this. When the second line for 1st class broke out, they entered it, coming in from somewhere behind me. If I remember correctly, this was before all the mayhem broke loose. They remained in the 1st class line for some time, which was quite small when they entered it and means they were very close to front. The large LED sign above the check-in for that line read "Supreme" or "Legacy" or something irrelevant to me, so it should have been no shocker that it wasn't to be used by those who had not made reservations to fly 1st class. Now, if they were both Indians, they could have pleaded a language based misunderstanding, but being that the woman was probably from America or maybe somewhere in Europe, that option was highly unlikely. Maybe they "thought" they had forked out the extra dough for the 1st class tickets, but got to the counter and realized they were just like everyone else. Maybe.

By the time they had turned their carts around, we were right in the mix of the madness and I had strapped on my pack and had already gone solo. As I scanned from left to right, trying to keep an eye for possible flankers, and developing my moment-to-moment strategy, I noticed them going for the gold from the left side, attempting for a miracle flank that would have put them in front of the lot of us, even the Indian guy with the huge family and oversize wife that started the whole thing to begin with. Like I said, I managed to protect my right to be there, but I can't say the person behind me fared as well. In fact, I lost sight of them, thinking they were swallowed up by a massive 10-lane highway of cart-pushing, lane-stealing, line-cutters.

After the initial recognition of this young international couple, the second thing I noticed was the ridiculous amount of carry-on luggage they were attempting to smuggle on board. "Yep, seen these guys before," I probably unfairly concluded, but beyond a general curiosity as to whether some of these items could in fact fit in the overhead compartments, I sort of just fluffed my small, light-weight backpack and reveled in the moment of having such a stress-free load as I saw the guy bumping into seated passengers as he bounced his way down the aisle. Eventually, he had his technique down. He had developed a side-stepping approach which enabled him to keep his orientation moving forward but also leverage a giant briefcase on the front hip all the while dragging a huge duffle bag on the floor behind him with the shoulder strap. I kept my distance.

Sometimes, you just know you're gonna have to wait.

I think having this understanding makes it easier. For example, when you go to the bank, you know you're gonna have to wait, so it's generally more tolerable than an unexpected accident that shuts down the highway. Looking at this guy, I knew this was one of those times, so when he turned around and apologized for the obvious train-wreck type situation he had gotten himself into, I was able to pull together a genuine smile of sympathy and said, in an overly-reassuring fashion, "No, it's okay man, don't worry about it!"

Didn't see that one coming, but what I saw next really made the whole thing stick. Everyone knows what it's like to have played your cards wrong and to be accidentally holding up a line. It sucks. It's really a horrible feeling and can easily be a low point in someone's day. Whether it's the person's genuine concern for others, which I could throw out the window after the attempted 1st class to economy class line-flank, or, it could be the more common dislike for embarrassing yourself in public. Either way, I saw a man in need, and I lent him a small, yet much needed act of compassion.

In return, I saw the stress on his face disappear. If you think people behind you are upset by your actions, it makes most people become quite flustered. In my experience, it makes me even more clumsy, effectively extending the hold-up. It can be something of a downward spiral, like a building mass of pressure. When someone can offer a little reassurance, a little bit of understanding, it can go a long way. On this day, for whatever reason, it just happened to be me. On other days, I think my attempt to do the same thing are pathetic at best and you can tell by my demeanor that I'm actually pissed.

The slight nod of recognition that the guy gave me sank in, and it was like the stiffness in the air was gone. Even though there were people behind me, by giving the guy so much space, I was actually taking the heat and people were wondering why I wasn't moving. But I didn't care, because I wasn't flustered, I wasn't trying to stuff bags that redefine the acceptable carry-on luggage size limit into the overhead compartments. I was just chillin, and it felt pretty good. When the guy finally pulled his life together and had sat down, allowing me to pass, I noticed that I was so relaxed that I even took another moment or two before I started walking. I think I could hear someone in line behind me have a bodily function that probably forced an unexpected rush to the lav after their bags were stowed. Not really, but it could happen.

On account of this event that transpired today, I hereby intend to offer up my sympathy for someone who is in need. It's no surprise that I have been known to make more than my fair share of mistakes, so often baffled by life. When I have my ducks in a row and am feeling composed, I will offer the comfort of that composure to others who are having a hard time, and can't seem to pull it all together. You might call it a random act of kindness, but it shouldn't be random, it should have a cause, it should be effective. Let's call it, strategic acts of kindness.

 3.   Don't let unexpected temptations steal my balance.  

I haven't flown internationally all that much, and so when the drink cart came around and really threw me a curve ball, I had a bit of a realization. Alcoholic drinks on international flights are usually free. The people in the rows in front of me were ordering beers, a tall glass of wine, or a mixed drink with top-shelf brands like Stoli and Jonny Walker Red Label. I had no intention of drinking, but then again, I decided against making quitting drinking a new year's resolution, for the lack of a desire to impose personal restrictions on myself that interfere with my freedom to choose.

As the cart drew nearer, flashes came into my mind. They started as, nah, I don't want to drink, I never did want to, so why would I want to now? Then I thought, screw that, the value of a drink like that at this altitude is easily like 7 or 8 bucks, so it will help me squeeze out more value for my ticket. That glass of red wine looks good, I'll take that. Nah, I don't want a mouth stained red with wine as I arrive at the ashram in the morning, better make it white. But what if I don't like it? That whiskey looks good. But what a lame pour, surely that wasn't a whole shot! Then again I thought, no, I'll just have a water, I'm a bit parched as it is anyway. Like this my mind bounced back and forth and everywhere in between. I really didn't know what I was going to say until the last second.

"Something to drink, sir?"
 "Orange juice, please."

It just sort of came out, and then I was allowed the wonderful opportunity to take a deep look at what had just gone down. As if I was a coach giving myself a half-time pep-talk, I sort of drilled myself for answers. "What happened to you back there, you fell apart!"

So what did happen? The guy next to me who ordered a whiskey-soda seemed like he was solid as a rock. Surely, I felt, that more important than the decision was the place it was coming from. He was so casual, and his order seemed to be without hesitation. He knew the drink was free and he knew what he wanted. Why then, was I practically cut down by the unexpected chance to have a free drink?

Looking back to my recent past might give me a little bit of an indication. At the beginning of August, a few days before my 27th birthday, I made a somewhat timid vow to refrain from drinking for the upcoming 3-month Buddhist Lent, a common thing for Buddhists in Thailand to adhere to. I managed to make it through the 3 months, and even for a few days after, and finally caved when I was overcome with the urge to whet my whistle in Myanmar. I drank casually for the next couple weeks of my trip, never getting drunk, and then had a few beers again in between staying at monasteries to practice meditation. I didn't really feel guilty about it, but I did sort of know that at some point, I wanted to at least take a break again, if not stop altogether. I guess I was sort of trying to acknowledge where I was at with the whole thing with a bit of honesty, and so I told myself that if I wanted to drink, I would. My desire to drink has definitely been dwindling, and I haven't wanted to get wasted for a long time, so I didn't see it as too much of a problem.

"I'll keep working to purify my mind from desire and when the timing is right, I'll walk away from drinking in a more natural manner."

So when I was really shaken up at the sight of the free drinks today shortly after we took off, I had to wonder what the big deal was. Why couldn't I have just known what I wanted, instead of fighting a huge personal battle in order to find out where I stood. Is this avoidable? What can I do to ensure that unexpected temptations don't knock me out of balance?

These are good questions. I guess one place to start is to be clear with myself about what I am willing to do and what I want to restrain from doing. Just like with reactivity, I can tell myself that "Today, I choose not to drink," without imposing an overarching restriction on myself like, "I'm never drinking again." If I can pick my battles, and keep it day-to-day or better yet, moment-to-moment, I will know where I stand and it won't be hard to make the appropriate decision. There is nothing wrong with having a drink. There is nothing right with it either, it's just something to do. The only problem is in this judging, comparing mind. It is this mind that was freaking out, even though in my heart, I knew all along that I didn't have any desire to drink.

On account of this event that transpired today, I hereby intend to remain connected with my heart's desires, so as to not be easily swayed with passing temptation. If I know I really want to do something, like have a drink, then I will allow myself to do that and be willing to deal with any sort of consequences that might follow. It's when we throw caution to the wind, and not listen to our hearts that it becomes dangerous. Instead of lying to myself, and telling myself that I want to do something that I don't just to be spontaneous, I will do my best to remain honest and stable with my decision-making. In short, acting with intention instead of being blown around like a leaf in the wind. Be a rock, even if it's while ordering a drink, do it like you mean it!

Like I said before, these three intentions are new ones, that I will have for this year, that I'm adding to an already existing list. When I look back at what previously-installed intention enabled these three to come to light for me today, it seems obvious. In all three situations, I was paying attention. No, I wasn't mindful the whole time, before, during, and after, but I did have the presence in all three situations to notice my initial reactions.

When we notice a mental reaction to a situation, we are offered the freedom to choose to do otherwise.

Setting intentions is a lot like installing software into a computer, especially a really old computer. Just because you set the intention doesn't mean it's going to work, but if the intention isn't there, if the software isn't installed, the chances are slim. The only way it might work is if another program, or intention, steps in to cover.

When you buy a computer, you think about what programs you want. When you get a cell pone or tablet, you think about what apps you want. Why not think about what you want to start hard-wiring into your brain?

"Neurons that fire together, wire together." - Donald Hebb

Today, on New Year's Day, I'm updating my hard-drive to include just a few more programs to keep this old machine running as smoothly as possible. As for now, it will just be a matter of reminding myself that the intentions are there, and as time goes on, they will become easier and easier to follow.

Well, I'm about to land in Mumbai now, and I hope that my inentions to stand up for myself gracefully, strategically respond with kindness, and act from my heart's desires instead of on a whim, will prove to keep me afloat as I tread the murky waters that is the sub-continent of India and the world's largest democracy. Wish me luck!

2012: A year in review

Gunnar with a Taiwanese monk at a
Chinese Buddhist monastery in New Mexico.

It seems like New Years is a good reminder of the value in wise reflection and wise projection. Looking back, we can see what we did, what helped us and what mistakes we made, and reflect on the year as a whole. It is also a good time to set intentions for the upcoming year.
Last year, at this time, I was in a silent vipassana meditation retreat in SW Colorado. After clarifying my intentions, I set off with some friends on a road-trip through New Mexico. We spent a few days and were able to stop at 8 or 9 spiritual places. 4 or 5 were Buddhist temples/monasteries, one was a Hindu ashram, and a couple were sacred Christian churches. I think spending New Years Eve in silence, being clear about my intentions, and then seeking out some spiritual centers was a great way to start 2012 for me, and may have helped me to bring about some positive changes.

At the time, I was living in Durango, Colorado, and had a good job with the theatre department of Fort Lewis College. It was only a 9 month contract, so I know going into it that my future was pretty uncertain. Throughout my stay, I had a lot of time to consider my options, and even made some lists about possibilities for after my contract was finished.

I knew I wanted to do something that was going to allow me to get in some good meditation practice time, and tossed around ideas like volunteering at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the area, or staying at a Chinese monastery down in New Mexico that we found. Another idea was to work in a National Park, just in food service or something, in order to spend some quality time in the outdoors and connect with nature.

In February, I flew down to Chile to meet up with my family and some friends for my brother's wedding. It was at that time when I found out what had sort of become my main plan at that time, to take a seasonal job with my brother on the north slope of Alaska, had fallen through. I remember feeling very uncertain at that time, about what would happen next, and I knew it was going to bring something unexpected my way, but I didn't know what. I won't pretend that I enjoyed the feeling, but I did my best to embrace it.

My brother Tommy marries a Chilean girl named Pancha. 

When I went back to Colorado in March, I put my nose to the grindstone. I applied for the Tibetan monastery's volunteer program and also to the company that works in Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. I kept looking around, considered staying in Durango and finding work for the summer and then reapplying for my same job the following year. I put out feelers, asked friends, and generally took a great deal of consideration about what I should do. Within a couple weeks of getting back, I had been accepted to 3 different jobs, and the volunteer program, and found that I went from a place where I felt hopeless and that I had no opportunites, to a place where I was overloaded with options. I remember being consumed by it, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't know what was going to happen. I guess it's a feeling I am pretty used to by now, and it does seem to be getting easier, but at that particular juncture, it felt a bit scary.

One day, as I was poking around online, looking at my options, an idea suddenly popped into my mind. I remembered that a guy who recruited English teachers in Thailand had left it with me that if I ever wanted to come back over to teach, to contact him. It had been a year and a half since we last communicated, but I remembered his name and typed it into the search for my gmail account. Sure enough, I found him, he interviewed me, and I was accepted for a position within a matter of a few days. I gave myself a week or two to brew it over, and then ended up buying my ticket and was back in Thailand before I knew it, just a few short weeks after the idea came to me.

It is crazy how fast your life can change if you let it.

My lovely Thai girlfriend Duean and I.

Just a few days after arriving, I was on the bus, leaving Bangkok, and was heading north to the small town where I was to start teaching the following week. Upon loading that bus, at the Mor Chit Bus Terminal, I met a girl, who is now my present girlfriend. I looked confused about my seat, and since she can speak English, she offered to help. The seat next to her was temporarily empty and so she asked me to sit down and we talked for 5 or 10 minutes until I went upstairs (double-decker bus) and found my seat. I knew I had met an angel, and asked her to be my girlfriend right then and there. She said, and I'll never forget, "Maybe sometime in the future." She was right too, and even though it took about 3 months, we finally were able to connect (she was living 6 hours away) and have been together ever since.

I ended up settling in a small town of Khirimat, and had a wonderful semester teaching 10-12th graders at a large public high school. The people in this town and at that school are the most friendly Thai people that I've met, and so I made many Thai friends, which never happened the first time I taught over here 2.5 years ago. The students were a lot of fun and I spent the 4 months getting to know them as best I could. My Thai got a lot better and my personal life was stronger than ever. I was generally feeling pretty grounded, waking up early for meditation and yoga, and the time sort of flew by.

A sunset jam session with my Thai buddy Mee in Khirimat. 

I should mention that at some point, drinking with my Thai friends down the street got a little ridiculous, and that, among other things, led me to quit drinking for the 3 month Buddhist Lent that started in early August. The style there is to have dinner with the gang every night if possible, and to enjoy the evening by casually sipping on beer or watered down whiskey drinks until it was late and then calling it a night. I had fallen out of the habit of playing futsal (like soccer but on a hard court) with the local boys after school everyday, was gaining weight from the feasting, and not getting enough sleep.

After the pendulum swings one way, it will swing back the other way. 

I spent the last couple months of the semester trying to focus my energy, get back into shape, and plan for my future. I was torn, once again, about whether I should stay or go. I really liked where I was at, and the school, and so a big part of me wanted to stay. At some point, I received an email from a contact I had made as I was leaving Colorado regarding the changing nature of a previous conversation we had. He mentioned that a group of them from Durango were headed to Myanmar in November to do some work for the non-profit organization, Shanta Foundation, that he founded with his wife. They had some difficulties with the government, but were able to work it out and invited me to come out to shoot the video I had proposed to shoot back in April.

www.shantafoundation.org

That was just the hint I was looking for.

So I told my school I wasn't coming back and bought my plane ticket for Myanmar. While I was at it, I figured to pursue another dream of mine, which was to go to India and practice yoga, so I bought that plane ticket too. And just like that, I had the next 8 months planned out. Weird, I never do this planning stuff, but I guess as long as you are flexible, it can be a great way to manifest your intentions.

Before I went to Myanmar, I sat a 21-day vipassana meditation course in northern Thailand that a friend in Durango had recommended. I knew that I couldn't let the year slip by without spending some solid time practicing, and although I really just wanted to go hang out on the islands, I was determined to head to the monastery.

I was off to Myanmar about a week after the course for 28 days. I was able to see a ridiculous amount of Buddhist temples, pagodas, and monasteries, and spent the last 9 days in a famous meditation center in Yangon. Oh, and I met up with the crew from Colorado and went up into the mountains for a few days to shoot my video. Check out the video I made at https://vimeo.com/56567802

When I came back, I took a few days to rest and then continued with a former plan to visit a couple monasteries in before heading off to India. I stayed at one more for a week, and then got sick while heading east to the other one and basically walked in, turned around, and walked out. I guess I also wanted to spend my last few weeks with my girlfriend instead of with some random monks.

And that pretty much brings me up to date. The highlights of my year were 1. meeting my girlfriend 2. my brothers wedding in Chile, and 3. my trip to Myanmar.

The youth caring for the youth in Myanmar. 

All of those were things that I didn't expect would happen in 2011, but as it turned out, what really happened was much different than anything I could have imagined. It just takes one thing, like not getting a job that you are counting on, to put your whole future up in the air. Luckily, for me, I was open and receptive to what the future brought, and I was sort of able to allow spontaneity to guide me.

Sunset over Bagan, Myanmar. 

It was a really good year, and I feel like I grew considerably and have planted good seeds for my future. Although I don't recall all of the intentions I set last New Year's Eve, I believe they were effective in getting me off on the right foot. As for the rest, I stumbled into many unexpected situations, and my general lack of a solid plan enabled me to end the year in a much better place than I could have imagined for myself.

As for next year, I have a basic idea of what the first few months will entail, but then I will once again be faced with making a major decision for my life. As much as I have grown to fear these big decisions, I also thrive in them. They force me to take a deep look at where I've been and where I'm going. Many times, there doesn't seem to be an obvious choice, but I look for the subtle clues and trust my intuition. Other times, I just pick an option and go for it. It should be fun, and life shouldn't be taken too seriously. When you can roll the dice and little and throw everything on the line, you might just end up winning big. And if you lose, well, then you get to hit rock bottom and bounce back. Either way, risking your security by stepping into the unknown makes life exciting. Also for me in 2012, I look back to all the things that had to happen for me to meet my girlfriend that day on the bus, and in hindsight, it all makes sense, like I was being guided to that very moment.

We can't always see what is guiding us, and where it is leading us, but if we trust it, we will find out.

I encourage you to try to invite change into your life by setting the intentions now for 2013. You don't have to move to another country or change your career, it might be something much smaller. It might be a change in your lifestyle or making healthier choices in your diet. What matters most is that we step out of our little boxes and see what life has in store for us. Some things fall into our laps, and other things, we have to work for. Just by remaining open and receptive to this idea, we will be inviting these opportunities into our lives. Look for the clues, they are potentially everywhere, and only you can decipher them. Have fun, and good luck to all of you in the upcoming year.