Wednesday, December 4, 2013

The Source of Happiness

I had a great start to my day as this guy was my bus driver on the first leg. It was all downhill after that...
Have you ever taken the time to consider what it is you depend on for your happiness? If you are like most people, there are a number of things you tend to rely on to make you happy when you aren't feeling well, or keep you happy when you are. Some of these things are probably more wholesome, such as your relationships with your family, friends, and pets, and others are probably less wholesome, such as your addictions to foods, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, coffee, etc. Others still are somewhat more neutral, such as your favorite music, a good book or movie, or traveling. And just like that, we tend to categorize the things we turn to in order to have this sense of being happy or content with life. And there's nothing wrong with that, right?

Well, sure, there's nothing wrong with that, as long as you always have those things readily available. But in reality, that's pretty much impossible. Even if you are "fortunate" enough to have the illusion that these things are permanent, due to their having always been readily available to you in the past, I have news for you, they aren't permanent, and someday, you will lose them, all of them. I don't know about you, but I would like to think that there is more to life than holding on to that which is impermanent and therefore able to cause us suffering when it no longer becomes available.

Another thing we hold onto, which is possibly a bit harder to see, is our expectations. We tend to carry these expectations about what will happen, or what should happen, and even having those expectations creates an immense amount of suffering in our lives. For example, I had an extremely difficult morning today, probably the lowest I've felt in at least 6 months or perhaps all year. Actually, I don't recall the last time I was so flustered and irritable.

I left my friends apartment, whom I'm staying with at the moment, at about 8am, which should have given me plenty of time to arrive at the embassy by 9am. It opened at 9:30, so for all intents and purposes, that would have left enough time to find the closest branch of my bank in order to have a statement printed out, which was required for my visa application. Should've, would've, could've. This is the language of failed expectations.

Instead, what really happened, was that I was directed into the wrong van leaving this area which took me to the wrong destination. Not only that, but it went the slow route, so instead of arriving at around 8:45 as expected, I got in around 9:20, but I didn't know exactly where I was. I asked the driver about my stop and he just no and stopped and told me to get out. The frustration that had already been mounting on the trip boiled over, and I took it out on him, even though it had been his partner back at the first location that had incorrectly directed me into his van. At the time, I was so blinded by this frustration that I didn't even remember this fact, so I made a somewhat crude remark to him about the terrible service as I stormed out of the van.

Not knowing what to do next, I decided to hop in a taxi and had the driver take me close to the embassy. I was keeping my eye out for my bank, and when we got close, I asked him where I should go. He took me to a large mall that he said should have my bank in it. He was a friendly man, which is not always the case for Bangkok cab-drivers, and even though I was a bit on edge as I sat in the back of his cab, and couldn't relax, my mind was in a better mood and I even gave him a tip, which I normally don't do in Thailand on account of the non-tipping culture here. It was 9:37. I figured I was still looking good on time and feeling hopeful.

But as I walked around the mall, I found every bank in Thailand other than mine. I dashed back onto the street and looked around. Banks around here are on every corner, so I knew there had to be one close. There, I noticed the symbol on the even bigger shopping mall directly across the street. After overzealously trying to cross the street unsuccessfully, I opted for the safer route by taking the subway stairs down and then back up on the other side. When I got to the entrance of the mall, it was 9:47. The security guard pointed to the sign. It opened at 10. Aah, okay, I can wait, I thought, although at this point, I really had to use the bathroom. I was aware of my impatience, and tried to stay calm by focusing on my breathing. I also took the opportunity to check in with the uncomfortable feeling of having to pee. Actually, I realized, the physical sensations associated with it weren't that bad, it was just the mental formations that turned the whole affair into a story, casting myself as the victim, and the suffering was the result. If I could just stay with the physical aspect, it was manageable.

Finally, a couple minutes past 10, she opened the door and I ran to relieve myself before finding my bank on the 5th floor. As I walked up, to my disappointment, I saw the gate was down and a sign saying the bank opened at 10:30. It was 10:05. From what I had read on the internet, it was best to get to this embassy early, and it closed for submissions at 11:30. I still had to get to a copy shop to make some copies and print out my flight and hotel reservations, and fill out my application forms. Little did I know, that I only had to arrive by 11:30 in order to get a cue, and that all those who arrived by then would be served. Like they say, knowledge is power. The only problem was, I didn't know. This is called ignorance.

Ignorance, according to the Buddha's teachings, is one of 3 causes of suffering. When it comes to relying on temporary things for our happiness, this is always a matter of ignorance, regardless of how wholesome you may think the source is. It's not that there is anything inherently wrong with family, a good movie, or even pigging out on ice-cream, but if you depend on these things for your happiness, you are bound to suffer. Dependency is weakness, and the more attached you are, that is to say the more dependent you are, the weaker you are.

When I woke up this morning, I was really depending on getting this visa today, in order to leave the country this weekend for a retreat in Myanmar. Otherwise, I'd have to wait until next week and I didn't feel like waiting around Bangkok for another weekend. I was holding onto this idea so tightly that I felt like my head was going to pop off. Even though I implemented calming practices to help me relax, and was aware of how much stress I was under, it didn't relieve the situation.

After I got my bank statement, I ran back under the street to the other side, hopped on a motor-bike taxi, and arrived on the street with the embassy. I still had to find a copy shop, and ended up walking a couple hundred meters down the street until I saw one. By this time, I was already feeling a bit better, because my faith in my ability to get their on time was waning. I had started to let go, and was feeling lighter. I had prepared myself to fail, and had started to accept that it probably wasn't going to happen. Either way, I figured I'd give it my best shot. I printed out several things and made a few copies, and when I asked the guy how much it was, he typed in his little calculator a ridiculous price of about $9. First of all, I can speak Thai, and had been speaking Thai to him throughout the process of having things copied, etc. Second of all, a normal fee for copying something in Thailand is equivalent 6 cents, and he was charging a dollar a page. That's 15 times what I'd normally pay. I understand jacking the price up a bit in these places that cater to embassies, but 15 times is outrageous.

In Thai baht, my bill came to 275. "Are you kidding me?" I said as I laughed in disbelief. I took out my wallet, pulled out 300 baht, and hastily threw it on the table, even though the man stood nearby with his hands out like a beggar. He didn't even look me in the eye, because he  knew was practically stealing from me. One of the bills floated to the floor and I saw him diving for it as I stormed out, yelling in Thai something that translates to, "Bad display of character!" now laughing even harder.

I actually thought it was funny, too. The whole thing had become a tragicomedy, and I was no longer holding on to any shred of hope for getting my visa application in on time. But nevertheless, I pushed on to my final destination, and as you may have guessed, everything was fine. I made it there by 11, and had plenty of time to fill out my application and ask the super-friendly guy at the front counter all the questions I was unsure about. Even though I was home-free, I was still wound super tight and noticed my whole body was shaking. I could barely hold the pen steady to fill in the blanks.

It's a strange thing that hope was the killer. As soon as I abandoned all sense of hope, I was free from the mental suffering. My body was still wound up, but my mind was nice and light, and I was able to see the humor in the whole thing. Hope is nothing more than attachment to the results of an expectation. Sure, sometimes it's helpful to stay positive, but for me, on this day, that was the last thing I needed.

Instead of relying on myself for happiness, I had put all my eggs in the basket of the favorable outcome of my situation, and this was extremely unwise. As the story unfolded, and I witnessed the blunt end of my suffering, I found myself wondering why I hadn't been acting wiser. And therein lies another lesson. When you find that you aren't living up to your own expectations, you multiply your suffering by adding layers of disappointment, confusion, and judgment. Instead of seeing things how they are and accepting them, you are comparing what you are experiencing to some notion of what you think you should be experiencing, and frankly, this isn't fair to yourself.

So what if I was flustered, irritable, frustrated, and impatient! Am I not human? No, I probably didn't handle the situation too well, and probably could have treated those people with more kindness and compassion, but being hard on myself here is not going to make the situation any better. I have to forgive myself for my childish actions and move on. Knowing now that I'm still subject to these unattractive states of mind is a good reminder to me that I have so much juicy stuff to work with in my practice. It had been so long since I'd lost my cool that I was beginning to be a bit disillusioned about where I was and how far I'd come. Now I know, if the conditions are ripe for me to revert back to that childish state where I can't control myself, I might not be able to rise above them (the conditions), and I'm OK with that.

This is all a beautiful reminder to me that in every step, in every moment, I need to incline the mind to connect with my innate goodness and use that as the source of my happiness. By abandoning all expectations and thoughts about what should and shouldn't be, what's left is what is. We don't need anything other than what we have, regardless of what it is we have in any moment. To know this is to be happy in a deeper sort of way, and even if were not smiling, we can carry ourselves with dignity and contentedness, knowing that life is perfect, just as it is.



And a sleeping dog in front of the subway escalator to end my day with a laugh. 

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Hitchhiking for Dhamma on the Big Mountain

After returning from two weeks of practicing yoga and meditation in Cambodia at Hariharalaya Retreat Center, I was eager to jump back into a Buddhist monastery and get down to business. Hariharalaya was just what I needed to unwind from my 6-month stretch of teaching English full-time, a good chance to open up my body and relax my mind. I found the setting there to be very supportive of individual needs and practices, but for me, there's no place like a Buddhist monastery to get the real work done.
Entrance to the cave at Ban Sawang Jai.

So I set off to Thailand's Khao Yai (Big Mountain) in search of a good place to practice. I had never visited the area before, besides briefly passing en-route to Laos or Cambodia, but had heard that there was some good things happening there in terms of monasteries. From what I gathered, after having spent the past week hitch-hiking around, and staying in 3 different monasteries, is that the area is indeed a prime location to practice meditation. 

I hadn't had a good adventure since India, so at the time of leaving, I wasn't sure where I would end up. I had a couple places in mind, but sort of decided to see which one I would find first. I wasn't positive where these monasteries where, and didn't bother to spend much time online trying to figure out. Instead, I thought, I'd use the opportunity to put myself in a situation where I'd have to use Thai to get by and see where the road took me. 

The first place I ended up was Ban Sawang Jai. It's a branch monastery of another place I'd previously stayed at called Wat Sanghathan, which is closer to Bangkok. I found Wat Sanghathan to be a bit overwhelming, as it was extremely strict and didn't offer much in the way of English. The place was flooded with Thai meditators wearing white, and the monks offer a daily schedule of chanting and ceremony to cater to continuos influx of lay-people, mostly likely coming from Bangkok and fairly undisciplined.                                                                            Needless to say, it wasn't exactly what I was looking for. 

But, I didn't give up on them. They are a serious forest monastery with branches all over the country, and even internationally, and I figured there must be a reason for their popularity. In Ban Sawang Jai, I found exactly what I was looking for. Technically, the monastery is called Wat Thamkrissana Dhammaram. Ban Sawang Jai is the name of the community surrounding the monastery, which is a quaint neighborhood consisting of new houses going up and plenty of empty lots. Apparently, the monastery had plans to sell lots only to their followers, but have ended up selling them to anyone. Either way, the place is somewhat special as it is gated and has a very monastic feeling to it. 

My kuti for 3 nights, super nice!
I was given my own kuti (monk's dwelling hut) to stay in and enjoyed beautiful views of the surrounding fields and of the mountain. The mountain gets it name from the size of the area it covers on the map, and not necessarily it's height. The national park itself, which lies within the mountain, is over 2,000 sq. kilometers, and the area I was visiting was on a plateau near the entrance to the park. The Abbott, Ven. Ajahn Tippakorn, was very welcoming, spoke pretty good English, and offered helpful guidance for my practice. Besides having one meal a day and afternoon sweeping at 3, I spent the entire time in my kuti practicing on my own. I pushed myself pretty hard, but I found that the middle way is not in the external features of the practice, but rather what's happening within, because I never felt stressed or strained even though I practiced 8-10 hours a day. 

That was by far the most disciplined I've ever been outside of an intensive retreat setting, but it came fairly naturally and frankly, by surprise. I had expected to be quite lazy while there, but I guess the inner drive wouldn't let that happen. Here's the schedule from the day I practiced 10 hours:

5-6  Sitting
6-7  Walking
7-8  Sitting
8-9  Yoga
9-9:30 Shower
9:30-10:30 Meal
10:30-12:00 Laundry and Rest

12-1 Walking
1-2 Sitting
2-3 Walking

3-3:30 Sweeping

4-5 Sitting
5-6 Walking
6-7 Sitting
7-8 Dhamma Talk on MP3
8-9 Sitting
9:00 Lights Out

As you can see, I didn't have to get up insanely early or stay up late in order to practice 10 hours, and I still had time to rest, do yoga, and listen to a Dhamma talk. To be honest, I skimmed the sweeping duty a bit short, in order to have another quick rest at 3:30, but I only stayed a few nights, so I think I got away with it. If I had stayed longer, I would have taken the duty more seriously. 

What I learned from this is that there is a lot of time to be productive in a single day, and managing that time to include time for sitting and walking meditation is extremely valuable. Of course, I wouldn't try to keep this schedule everyday that I had free time, but I find intensive practice from time-to-time to be very beneficial. Again, it's about keeping the balance of the mind during that 
intensity of the schedule, otherwise, you are 
just wasting your time. 

Houseboat at Ban Sawang Jai. Yes, please!
Hitchhike #1: 

The third car picked me up after putting my thumb up. I sat in the front seat next to the driver, a middle-aged Thai man who spoke English very well. He had spent 5 months as a monk at Wat Chom Tong in Chiang Mai Province, where I stayed for 21 days just over a year ago. Not only that, but he's visited Alaska before, so we had plenty to talk about. He went about 20 kilometers out of his way to take me all the way to... 


...Thai Plum Village, which is one of 5 or 6 branches of Tich Nhat Hanh's Plum Village in France. Tich Nhat Hanh, who is probably the second most famous Buddhist monk after the Dalai Lama, is a Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk who was exiled from Vietnam after choosing to support neither side in the Vietnam War and instead supporting peace for his people. At 87 years old, his mind is extremely sharp and his heart radiates peace and wisdom. He travels the world teaching and leading retreats, and although he came to Thailand earlier this year, I had not yet returned from India and therefore missed him. 

I only stayed at Thai Plum Village for 1 night, but was very impressed with the monks that I had a chance to meet. They were mostly young and spoke English very well. All the monastics living there, which were around 150 in total, are Vietnamese. The place was like an oasis of Vietnam in Thailand. The facilities for the monks and nuns are still being constructed as the place is quite new, and from what I could tell of the future plans, it will be impressive, to say the least. At the moment, the make-shift dorm for lay-guests is pretty dingy and the outdoor toilets were terrible. Since it's in transition, I could imagine this will be a great place to visit in another year or so. 

On my last stop, I visited a nearby forest monastery and once again felt at home. Thai Buddhism seems to make the most sense to me, but I can admit that it might just be because I'm most familiar with it. I'm trying to cultivate an openness and curiosity to other traditions while at the same time nurturing the practice I've already worked so hard to develop. Out of the respect to the monastery, which wishes to remain somewhat low-key, I won't disclose the name or location, but rather, speak about my experience in getting there. 

Hitchhike #2: 

I opted for walking out of Thai Plum Village to keep the spirit of wandering in search of the Dhamma, but actually, the Dhamma was in every step I took. With no place to go, no real destination, I just walked, to see where I would end up. Shortly after I got out on the dirt road, which was out in the middle of nowhere, I heard a big truck coming from behind me. It was about 10am, and dead quiet before the sound of the truck creeped up. I turned around. I wasn't even going to put my thumb up or wave him down or anything. I figured if I was going to get a ride from this guy, he'd realize I was really far from the main road and would stop regardless of what I did. I was right. The truck came to a stop right in front of me. I waited for a moment to see if the window would roll down, or the door would open, but realized this was a self-serve pick-up. I had to step on the tire to get to the door handle, as it was a big commercial-sized truck, kind of like a Thai/upcountry version of a semi-truck, but brand new and bright shiny white. 

As I opened the door, the guy's wife was climbing in the backseat to give me the front. The nice couple drove me about 20 kilometers, back to the main road, and I had plenty of chance to practice my Thai as if they did speak any English, they didn't show it, not even a word. It was a slow ride too, about 20 kilometers an hour, so it was about 11am when I got dropped off. From there, I had to go back to Ban Sawang Jai to pick up my towel, which I'd hung to dry during the meal and forgotten before I left (doh!). I was able to get a sawng-thaew baep yai yai (a big truck with two rows in the back for passenger hauling) and before I knew it, I was back on the road to my last and final destination. 

Corn fields. 
Hitchhike #3: 

After walking until the point of getting blisters from my sandals, which I bought in India and although are rugged, aren't super foot-friendly, I finally saw another sawng-thaew approaching. I waved my hand in the downward motion as is customary in Thailand, but the lady just put her hand up and drove on by. It was basically like a "I'm only going another 1.5 kilometers, so I ain't stopping." As it turns out, she's the same lady who had tried to rip me off the day before going the opposite way, which resulted in me standing up and having a bit of an argument with her over the price. I guess it's not wise to make a big deal about the price when you rely on these people for transportation in a a secluded area. Wait, scratch that, I can just hitchhike, which is exactly what I did. I turned around, and I'm pretty sure that again, it was the third car that picked me up. Pick-up truck, short confusion about the arrangement, and then the signal to hop in the back. I knew they weren't going all the way to where I was going, which was about 70kms, but I told them to take me as far as they could, and they did. 


They pulled up to a convenient store and asked the lady if there were any transportation options to get me where I was going, but the only service was a bus that didn't come for a few hours. They said something in Thai, which I didn't quite understand, but knew they were advising me to just hitch, so I did. This time, it wasn't the third car, but within a couple minutes, I got a ride. Hitchhiking in Khao Yai is way better than in the US! A brand new shiny red truck came to a screeching halt. The window rolled down, and a full load of 6 passengers asked me where I was going. They were going to the same area, so they yelled something like "let's go" in Thai and I jumped in the back and we were off. We were making really good time, which I cared little about, and resultantly the ride was a bit nervous as we flew around the corners and precariously passed cars that dared go at sane speeds.

A reservoir high up in the mountains. 
Hitchhike #4:

I had been told that one of the two monasteries I was looking for had a small sign on the road. I decided I'd go to whichever one I could find easier. I kept my eye out for this sign but never saw it, and before I knew it, we had reached the town and I knew we had already passed it, somewhere. The 6 passengers poured out of the truck, 3 guys in their 30's and their 3 girlfriends in their 20's, enjoying their weekend by taking a roadtrip. The spoke pretty decent English, and asked me where I was going. I told them the name of the monastery, and they spread out around the parking lot and asked everyone they could. Finally, someone said they knew where it was, sort of. Two of the girls pulled out their cell phones and were looking the place up online. 

"Okay, found it, eat first?" "Sure," I said, and we all sat down in an outdoor restaurant for a feast. I wasn't super hungry but knew there'd be no dinner for me at the monastery so I decided to eat as well. As typical Thai style, they ordered way too much food and plenty to share. When they heard me order vegetarian, they ordered two more vegetarian dishes so I could have a variety. One of the couples took an interest in my travels and meditation practice, the others said they didn't care much about Buddhism, which is somewhat of an uncommon thing for a Thai person to say, but probably becoming more common amongst the youth in Bangkok. Oh, and of course, they wouldn't let me pay my portion of the bill. "My guest," said one of the guys. "But you picked me up!" I protested to no avail. I guess you can't stop generosity when it's thrown at you, the only thing you can do is to catch it. 

"I like adventure!" exclaimed the guy who had driven us. They said they could take me to the monastery, as it was on the way back to their hotel, but they wanted to go to this zip-line/adventure place first. I pretty much had to agree, as they had already been so nice. I didn't want to partake, as the place looked a bit cheesy and not to exciting, so I had to sit there and watch these people go through the various "adventure" activities this place had to offer, which really catered more to things like weddings and kids than anything. I was getting a bit worried as the sun was starting to drop and I knew my window of opportunity to show up at the monastery was fading. 

Finally, they were finished picking out their adventure photos and we were back on the road. We had to stop and ask a couple people where the monastery was but we finally found it and they walked me into the Sala (main meditation hall) to greet the abbot. They abbot relunctantly agreed to have me stay, seeing as I had my bags in hand and had hitchhiked there, and that the sun was pretty much down, so I said farewell to my friends in the red truck and settled in for the night. I stayed there one more night and tried to soak of up the feelings of gratitude I had for the blessings I had been receiving. Life is good! And bad, and everything in between, but just being here to observe it all come and go is truly a special opportunity. 

I wanted to share this story with you to show you the kindness and generosity of the Thai people, with the exception of that really nasty bitch that didn't pick me up in the sawng-thaew. Haha, just kidding! But really, she wasn't super nice. I thought of all the things I was going to say to her when I saw her, but by the time I had walked that last 1.5k, I'd forgotten all about it and kept moving on. My week of hitchhiking for Dhamma in the Big Mountain of Thailand was a success, in more ways than I could have imagined, and once again, I'm reminded of just why it is I've come to call this place my home, for now anyways.