The Art of Doing Nothing

As much as I am plugged in, and spend a lot of my free-time online or watching movies, I am becoming more and more comfortable with not doing anything, or doing nothing. In the modern world, the need to keep ourselves entertained is growing and our ability to be content without having something to do is diminishing. Going anywhere in Bangkok provides constant reminders of just how much society is growing dependent on their devices to keep them from getting bored.

Even though a lot of the time I spend is devoted to learning Thai or studying Dhamma, I still feel compelled to put the book or computer down and let life catch up to me. What I am coming to believe is that boredom is a myth. It's an experience based on the fear that the mind will have nothing to engage itself in and we will therefore have to bear witness to its insanity. Now, don't get me wrong, there's a reason this fear exists, and there are a million reasons why one would want to avoid having to witness the insanity of their own mind, but if we want to be free, there's no way around it.

Ignorance is bliss, but it's also prison. It's like painting beautiful scenery onto prison walls and believing that we have a nice view of reality. Sure, it's nice to look at a painting, but the moment we fail to realize that it's a painting, we are deluded. I don't know about you, but I for one intend to wake up from this state of constant delusion in order to see the world as it really is. There may be different techniques that enable us to eradicate this delusion, but all of them require some serious work to be done. Anyone who tries to promise you freedom that won't require you to do anything is deluded about what freedom really is.

So what is freedom?

Freedom, in the sense I am referring to, is the absence of impurities in the mind. So as long as there is still judgment, anger, resentment, impatience, pride, or greed, we cannot be free. If you think you are free, just check to see if any of these things are still present. If they are, you might find that it's worth a shot to learn this art of doing nothing.

But what's so special about doing nothing?

Well, if the mind is constantly full of defilements, doing nothing is a miserable experience. This is why I could only manage to sit for a few minutes when I first started meditating. Anything beyond that was mental torture. It was like someone pointing out all your shortcomings and expecting you to just sit there and take it. If you're like me, there's only so much you can handle in one sitting. But as the mind begins to calm down, the process of purification begins to take place and glimpses of freedom are experienced. Once freedom is experienced, the motivation to continue solidifies and the illusion of boredom is replaced with the reality of a crazy mind.

It's one thing to have a crazy mind, it's another thing to have a crazy mind with no skills as to how to deal with it. It would be like having a serial killer on the loose and knowing that there were no cops out there looking for him. That's when the real fear would set in, but as long as those cops are there we can at least tell ourselves, "They'll catch him, and then we can be safe again."

Not knowing how to deal with boredom is like knowing there is a serial killer in your neighborhood but not having anyway to protect yourself. It's that constant fear of doing nothing, of any gap in activity in which the crazy mind will lurk up behind you and you will be forced to sit through it's madness. The worst part is, for many, is that they won't even know what hit them. It's like being pulled into the underworld without having realize that you've gone. It's like a mental black hole, and it sucks up everything in its path.

If you have not explored silent meditation much, you can sit down with the idea of doing nothing and see what happens. You will probably just experience the familiar feeling of being bored, and then you will get caught up in your thoughts and spin into some dark abyss rather quickly. It's worth trying just to come to terms with the fact that this is how it is. That's why we use an anchor in meditation practice, most of the time, in order to have an object to focus our attention on and keep us grounded in the here and now.

I have some pretty good friends who have admitted to me that they haven't really tried much in the way of silent meditation. "I don't do well sitting still for long periods," they've said. Well, in my opinion, that's all the more reason to practice doing exactly that. If sitting still in silence is easy for you, and you don't just get sucked into thinking, or daydreaming, or some sort of state where you are half asleep and disconnected from the present moment, then you must have a fairly pure mind. If you are like me, and most others, it's not so simple. The dark reality of our inner world becomes evident and it can be truly scary. It makes us want to do something, do anything other than sit there and witness the chilling reality, but the more we are able to do exactly that, the more we are able to find freedom, peace, and happiness.

If you do try this, I'll just ask that you are honest with yourself. If you can admit that the mind is indeed crazy and out of control, the next step is to find a practice in which to learn to control it and purify it. Instead of thinking that meditation isn't for you, don't even think of it as meditation. Just think of it as being able to spend time with yourself, without doing anything else. The art of doing nothing is synonymous with a fulfilling life. I find it hard to believe that one could have a deeply fulfilling life without have the ability to do nothing. The more you avoid doing nothing, the more you allow your problems to pile on top of each other. Just like we need to take out the trash in our kitchen or on our computer, we need to take the time to empty the trash in our minds.

Doing nothing is a special thing to do. It's just you, watching your life unfold, from moment to moment. Still bored?

The Spiritual Experience

This seems to be what so many of us out there today are looking for. We take a meditation retreat, we take a pill, we take a journey to some spiritual place, hoping to come in contact with some "spiritual experience," something that will make us feel alive again and tell us that everything will be okay. I don't want to say that there is anything wrong with that, but just that with this mentality, the spiritual life is always one step away.

A friend of mine, whom I met in India, recently stayed at a center in Myanmar to practice for 40 days, and posted something about his experience on Facebook. Someone commented on his post, asking him if he had any spiritual experiences to share, and his response was such a beautiful reminder of the practice that it inspired me to want to write something about it.

"Every experience is spiritual."  - Sascha from Russia

So there you have it, there is the realization of a very devoted practitioner, one who had spent 40 days in retreats by the time I had met him earlier this year and has since spent another 40 days in an intensive meditation center. If you understand this truth, your spiritual life will open up for you, it'll fall right into your lap, because it's always been there! The only problem is without having known this, we might have been ignorant to it. We go through most of our lives feeling disconnected, chasing after those good feelings, a sense of belonging and worth, but the temporary fixes just don't do the trick. We yearn for something deeper, something more fulfilling and more sustainable, but no matter where we look, and to what lengths we travel, we're always a step behind.

Here in Thailand, where you can't drink the tapwater, I have to refill big jugs in a machine downstairs and then fill smaller bottles that I keep cold in the fridge. The mouth of the jugs are quite a bit larger than those on the 1 liter bottles I keep in the fridge, so this act of pouring is always a bit of an exercise in concentration. As I was trying my best to keep a steady stream of water pouring into the bottle, I had a sudden reminder of exactly what Sascha was talking about. The focus of my mind, coordinating with my body to keep the jug tilted at just the right angle, and the steady gaze of my eyes looking into a miniature waterfall of crystal clear water filling up a bottle that will support my life here on earth. In those moments, time had stopped. There were no thoughts about the future or memories about the past. There was no me and my boatload of problems, opinions, and concerns. In those moments, I was free. It was truly a spiritual experience, but yet an everyday one.

So what made me have a spiritual experience in that everyday moment as opposed to the countless other everyday experiences where I don't feel that connection?

That's easy, I was paying attention. Pay attention to your life and you will find that it's full of these moments. They are never-ending.

Another friend of mine, who is having a bit of a hard time back in the states, said something to me the other day that illustrates this disconnection that people are feeling. "I can't even imagine how much life you're experiencing daily. I feel like I'm not even living," he said. I wonder what exactly it is that he thinks I'm doing over here on a daily basis that would lead him to believe this. If you stay somewhere for a while, walking through the streets and going to work becomes familiar rather quickly. Once things are familiar, the senses are dulled and we stop paying attention. Sure, you can move somewhere else, get off to a new start, and things will be fresh and exciting for a while, but as soon as that wears off, it's just you and life left to ride out the waves of change. To fight against these waves, this change, results in stagnation and disconnection. To embrace change, we must connect with the ever changing moment.

Okay, okay, I know I'm making this all sound so easy, like I've got it all figured out. But let me assure you, it's not, and I don't. It takes work, you see, to be able to maintain this connection to the beauty and the mystery of life. What we can do now is see that it's always there, and at least believe in our ability to open up to it. Then, with continued practice, we will catch these reminders, these moments that bring us back to what is happening in the here and now, and we will realize we were here the whole time. The only thing that changes is our attention. The more glimpses of this we have, especially those that aren't dependent on external conditions being fulfilled, the more faith we have that it's there, and the more inspired we are inspired to cultivate our relationship to it.

It's easy to feel connected when you are listening to some beautiful music, taking a walk through nature, or watching the sunset, but what about all those other in-between times? If we start assigning values to our experiences, seeing some as being special while others are seen as insignificant or downright boring, we will still be caught in the game of chasing after pleasant experience, instead of seeing the true spiritual nature to each and every experience we have.

So the invitation here is to look no further than the very nuts and bolts of your life, the highs and lows and everything in between. See if you can connect to this moment and find what is in store for you. It might not always be pretty, it might not always be enjoyable, but it's always real and it's always happening.

There are no dull moments, only dull minds. 

The Dhamma of Being Sick

Wait for it, wait for it, ah, there it is! It's that voice in my head that says, "Why me?" Of course, no one wants to be sick, but it happens to everyone. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I hope to turn this around into another opportunity to practice.

Whenever life offers us less-than-desirable circumstances, we usually find that the "poor me" button is pushed, over, and over, and over. We are so used to this button being pushed that we don't even realize it's happening. Instead of being aware of what is happening, the whining and complaining becomes an automated response. In this way, we basically try to unload our misery onto those around us, always making every little problem we have everyone else's problem.

So what's the problem with that?

If you have loved ones around, being taken care of can feel pretty good, and in a way, it can strengthen a relationship. But if one isn't careful, it can turn into another way to feel sorry for oneself and attract pity and attention. It sort of feels good to have other people feel sorry for us, we get a little extra love and attention, and it makes it feel special, doesn't it?

But I for one will take a stand and say that I'd rather not have to listen to someone whine and complain all day. When I feel like someone is fishing for something, be it a compliment or sympathy, I don't feel obliged to give it to them, because I don't agree with the way it supports this special-me, or poor-me mentality. When someone is relying on extra attention in order to make themselves feel better, it can be seen as in indication that are neglecting to take the time to bring their own attention, loving-kindness, and compassion within.

Even with this understanding, what is one to do when those around you won't stop fishing? It almost makes you feel bad if you don't give them what they want. One way that I've been exposed to recently is the overwhelming support of my girlfriend, to the point that it sort of makes me laugh and become aware of the internal processes. I'm not asking for it, but I'm getting it anyway. So there you go, we can give each other the compassion and support without be lured in by a plea for pity, and thereby show our love without weakening the individual in need and rendering them helpless.

Real support, real compassion, is not just giving someone a crutch, its teaching them how to walk on their own.

So when we find ourselves on the end that is sick, or does need compassion, what can we do to ensure that we don't fall victim to this victim mentality?

1. Cheer up, try to take your illness light-heartedly.
2. Be clear about how you are feeling, and find non-whiny ways to share it.
3. Give yourself a chance to become intimate with your condition.

When we can develop an intimate relationship with our conditions, in a moment to moment analysis, we might find that what we are experiencing isn't as bad as we had previously imagined. It's the mind that becomes overwhelmed by everything, that becomes stressed out, that makes everything into a big dramatic situation and casts us as the victim.

Okay, okay, so I can see this all happening, but it seems so automatic, how can I stop it?

In insight meditation, when we want to stop something, we don't use force, but understanding. So we simply observe and practice kindness. We know that the process is going on and we are okay with that. Over time, through repeated observation and acceptance, we will notice the process change. It does so on its own, it's a completely natural process. With patience, we can watch the poor-me mentality being replaced with a state of balanced acceptance, called equanimity. Being careful not to push unwanted things away, we can develop the capacity to be at peace with them. It is the peace we seek anyway, and the changing of conditions in our favor is just a bonus.

There's nothing miraculous about this practice, it's simply an understanding of the way the human mind works and it was passed down by the Buddha almost 2,600 years ago. Like a super-dorky scientist of the mind, he was able to see these processes clearly, and offered them up for others to use. He never tried to sell anything, but rather encouraged others to put his teachings to the test in their own lives. As I continue to test his teachings, I develop more and more confidence and trust, or what you might call practical faith. You don't need to believe anything that you can't prove for yourself, through your own experience, so give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?

How to Make Work Your Work Your Practice

Now that I'm well underway with my new job, as an English teacher at a private language center in Bangkok, I've had plenty of chances to see just how much of an opportunity working can be for developing one's practice. Although I find myself wearing a shirt and tie and am far from the daily schedule of the monastery, where I find myself wishing I was, I'm still in a conducive environment to practice if I can open up to the possibilties that every moment offers. In some ways, it doesn't matter what you do, you can always bring awareness to any activity. But what's so special about work?


Getting feedback:

In just about any job, especially when you first start out, you are probably going to get some sort of feedback as to how you are doing. It might be in a formal, sit-down situation, such as with my current job, or it might just be in the unspoken body language of your supervisor. Either way, there will be opinions about how you are doing, and if you are a keen observer, you can pick up on these. What you do with this feedback can really be a great place to practice. If you receive good feedback, and puff yourself up because of it, you are strengthening the false sense of self that is the ego. The stronger the ego, the less connected you are with reality. But the ego doesn't just like to be praised, it is also strengthened by blame. Even blame strengthens the ego in the sense that it reaffirms that it does in fact exist, and then it feels sorry for itself.

Even though I have some teaching experience, the job I'm in now is quite specific and not all the skills are the same. I have a long way to go, but it's still a challenge to recieve criticism without getting defensive. My challenge is therefore to take criticism with a smile, knowing that I have room for improvement, and to take compliments without letting it get to my head.

"Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind . To be happy, rest like a giant tree in the midst of them all." - The Buddha


Trash talking:

Another area we can potentially practice while at work is when it comes to talking about others in the workplace, be it co-workers, bosses, or customers. This is a real trap, as in one way, it offers the promise of building a bridge, a way to bond with co-workers and turn them into friends. If you just go along with their remarks about others, it can go a long way in their eyes, and it's easy to do, especially if you agree. Similarly, if you think you have an opinion that they will agree with, it's an easy to hook to throw out there. If they bite, then it's a green-light to bad-mouth the other person whenever the chance arises. As a working relationship continues, this bridge can be strengthened and you readily turn to each other to unload the latest complaint or judgment about the third party.

I've always had a big mouth and an even bigger opinion, but now I'm starting to see that there is nothing good that comes from this. Even if it feels good to find someone who has the same opinion, it doesn't feel good to talk trash about someone else. It's a complete lack of compassion and again, strengthens the ego and the sense of separteness between myself and the rest of the world. As long as this separation exists, I will be unable to see things as they really are and I'll never have access to the freedom and natural joy that is my birthright.

The challenge with trash talking at work is how to find positive things to say about others, and how to listen with compassion to someone who is talking trash without biting the hook? Needless to say, it's not easy, and I'm glad I've had the clarity to notice the early trends now before the bridge is too reinforced to break without an earthquake.


Not taking what isn't given:

I know this sounds stupid, but it's true. I used to take things from the places I worked. Not often and not much, but for example, I might take a couple batteries or some nails, something simple that I knew I needed but didn't want to buy. Beyond that, I might be inclined to take another's belongings if they were left out heedlessly. Some of the things are almost so silly that I used to justify it by saying. "It's just a pencil, they probably wouldn't even care." Okay, on some occasions, that may have actually been true, but the reality remains the same, they weren't given to me.

Many of my friends have been known for taking a ridiculous amount of things from work, to the point where it was even sort of a respected thing to do. For example, if someone worked in a restaurant, they might stock their kitchen at home forks and knives from their workplace. The restaurant might not even have noticed, but that's not the point. If everyone just skims a little off the top, it starts to add up. Even if it doesn't, even if there are no consequences, we are still cultivating an unwholesome mind state by taking things that aren't offered to us.

Especially with my friends, I used to take advantage of the theory that they wouldn't mind. Sometimes, the delusion woudl be so strong that I would later learn that they did in fact mind and was suprised to find out so. One of the five precepts that Buddhists are suggested to follow is to not take what has not been given, and this principle has really made me realize how automatic such a thing had become for me. I wouldn't hesitate about taking something that I figured wasn't significant or important, and it was perpetuating the I-centered universe that I had been living in. If everything resolves around us, then it only makes sense that we should be able to take what we wish, but this is ignorance at its finest. Wouldn't it be nice to know that if you left your nice pen out overnight, it would still be there in the morning? Should we really have to be that careful with our personal belongings, always fearing that someone will conveniently swipe anything that is left around?


Can you find some opportunites to practice at your workplace? If so, please feel free to share your thoughts!

Oh, and by the way, I'm still looking for that pen that I left out the other day...

Envisioning the "Future Me"

It's helpful to be able to identify our personal shortcomings and have a vision about where we see ourselves headed. By having clear intentions, we can do our best to co-create with the Universe and manifest the future. Whenever you discover something about yourself that you don't like, you can add it to your list. 

Here is my vision for my future:

1. To be so grateful for life that I enjoy even the times when I'm miserable and suffering.

2. To not look to blame someone or something every time something goes wrong.

3. To be fascinated by the simplest things.

4. To be the strongest when I feel the weakest.

5. To see people only in their highest light, their true nature.

6. To not look for comfort in things like food, entertainment, or intoxicants.

7. To laugh and play like a kid again.

8. To put others first.

9. To take advantage of every opportunity.

10. To surrender to something higher than me. 

Basically, as Ghandi put it, I want to be the change I wish to see in the world. I know that in order to be the change, I must first see the change. I want to practice what I preach, but I need help. I hope that by setting these intentions, I can make it more clear to myself about where I want to go in life, and thereby get a better idea of how I can get there. Knowing that now is all I'll ever have, I better get to work!

What do you envision for your future?

Wishing you all the best in your travels through life.

I might not live another day, but if I do, I intend to be a better person than I have been today. 

Dhamma in the City: The Practice Never Stops

Now that I’m back in Thailand and settled into a new job and a new apartment, I often find myself wondering if I’ve strayed from the path towards freedom. Making money and having worldly responsibilities, at first glance, seems counter-productive to what I’m trying to do here. When I was leaving the last meditation retreat I sat, which was in Nepal, I had a strong vision about my aspirations for the the next year or so, and to say the least, it didn’t involve signing a 1-year contract to teach English full-time in Bangkok. Nevertheless, I find myself in precisely such a situation, and needing to make sense of it all.

What is happening, from as best as I can tell, is that fear is starting to arise. This fear is worried about getting wrapped up in making money and having things. But is this rational? Sure, it can be a slippery slope, but since when are you not allowed to make money and have a spiritual life? The problem isn’t in the money, but in the fear itself. The fact that I’m worried is actually a good thing, it means that my aspirations to stay on the path are deeply rooted, and that even shifting conditions won’t make me forget what I really want. But acting out of fear is never a good idea. So I see that fear is arising, and I can just practice observing it, knowing it not to be who or what I really am. In this way, I can keep moving forward in a positive manner, and not let the worries and doubts create turmoil in my mind.

But that’s not the end of the story. What is happening in the here and now is much more important than speculative projections about where I’m going to be a year from now when my contract runs out and whether I’ll be more likely to visit the beach than the monastery. Yes, I know that to live a life in the Dhamma, one must make arrangements, one must sacrifice and plan to spend time practicing. Otherwise, one drifts aimlessly and remains hopelessly lost in the world of swirling mental formations, not knowing what is what and always chasing the next form of pleasant experience. But if I go on thinking that spending time in meditation retreats is the extent of my spiritual life, I’m missing the point.

And that’s what my insight has been the last few days. I don’t need to wait for another retreat to practice; I can practice in each and every waking moment. Although that’s easier said than done, the opportunity is there, and if I’m not taking advantage of it, by at least setting an intention to be mindful, I’m most-likely missing out on the beauty of the ever-present moment.

Okay, there’s a lot here already, so I’ll try to be more specific. Although traffic jams and pounding pavement in a big city of 9 million people seems far from the peace and serenity of a monastery in the forest or mountains somewhere, the practice remains the same.

What is it like to be alive in this moment?

Why do I need to be sitting cross-legged with my eyes closed to ask this question? Yes, it’s probably a good idea to do meditation retreats, as they really offer an opportunity to develop concentration that can later be used. They also work on the level of problem solving. Since so many deep-rooted problems arise during intensive practice, we learn how to deal with all sorts of internal obstacles.

In the “real world,” all the problems seem to be external, but I when I can remember, I know better. All the frustration I’m feeling living in the city, the slow moving pedestrians that criss-cross down the sidewalk without looking, the lanes of traffic that are frozen for minutes at a time, the endless heat, seems to be because of external obstacles. But then I look over, and I see the person next to me, facing the same external situation, seemingly unaffected. The difference must lie in the way this external phenomena is being processed and translated.

It is only because of my resistance that I am suffering.

If I am present enough to notice my resistance, it weakens. Sometimes, it even goes away altogether. In those moments, a gentle smile appears on my face and I am reminded that everything is okay. If I’m late to yoga, if I don’t make it to work at all, if I’m constantly bordering on becoming a human waterfall of sweat, who cares? The truth is, it’s only my mind that cares, but in reality, it doesn’t really matter. If I miss yoga, if I miss work, even if I get fired, so what? Is there not another job waiting for me? Is there not another class tomorrow? If I remain positive, knowing that I am not in control, I can rest assured that whatever life has in store for me is going to be what I need when I need it. It might not come packaged the way I want it to, or the way I have envisioned, but that’s okay.

Honestly, I feel like my life right now is the end of a movie. It’s like everything has worked out for me over the past year or so, over the course of some major changes, and now that everything has fallen into place, it’s time to move forward with optimism and hope, with a sense of belonging and direction, and most importantly, with an opportunity to implement all the things that I’ve learned. When one story ends, a new one begins, and the next chapter of my life remains to be seen. Can I surrender to life and let whatever comes come? Can I have a respectable job and wear nice shirts and ties without losing my purpose? Can I find ways to practice what the Buddha taught, about being mindful for each step as I walk through the city, staying with my breath as I ride the bus, and responding with compassion to those around me?

Who knows what will happen! If I knew, life would be boring. If I was in complete control, there wouldn’t be any surprises. Besides, I would have never made it here if I could have sculpted my life from the beginning. I’d probably have my head up my ass in the US with some fancy career or something by now. So I guess I feel good about where I am, and am grateful to have had the opportunities that have come my way. I’m locked in to a full time job, but I doubt I’ll forget what is important to me. If I can remember to ask myself what life is like for me, right now, and keep asking myself as many times as possible, I will find freedom from my fears, I will find truth, and who knows, maybe even a bit of happiness. 

So as I walked through the blazing heat of the city today, I felt for the first time since I've been back that I'm right on track, even if doesn't seem that way at first glance. I have plenty of opportunities to practice the Dhamma, to practice implementing the skills that I've worked so hard to develop. Patience, flexibility, tolerance. If I can't put them into use now, when I need them most, what good have my efforts been? I refuse to believe that my efforts have been in vain, and I take this opportunity to set the intention to stay connected with the direct experience of my life as it unfolds, from moment to moment, from breath to breath, from step to step. 

I walk into the future, but without leaving the now. 

I wish all of you the best of luck on your journey, may you walk with peace, love, and direction. 

Teaching Yoga in India, a dream come true!

Having just finished teaching an official yoga class for the first time, and preparing to leave the town of Bhagsu, a place I've called home for nearly 6 weeks now, I feel compelled to write something. Teaching this morning made my whole trip through India come full circle. I remember just over a year ago, when I sitting in my room in southern Colorado, and wondering what life was going to bring me next. My job at Fort Lewis College was coming to an end and I needed to make a decision about what to do next. For possibly the first time in my life, I felt like I actually had options. I went from having what seemed like no options to having too many in just a matter of a few days. Basically, it was when I stopped believing the lies that my mind was telling me, about how I am a victim and have limited opportunities in life. When I believed this, I was powerless. When I stopped believing, when I pulled my head out of my ass, a whole world of opportunities opened up for me.

It was like a hobo had run up to my dirty car windshield at a traffic light and suddenly cleaned it without me knowing what happened. All of a sudden, I could see! But since there was no need for a hobo, I didn't have to pay anything, it was free! At that moment, or in the course of those few days, I made a decision that would undoubtedly shape the course of the rest of my life. It was the decision to return to Thailand that did it for me. It was a difficult decision to make, and came up as if from nowhere. I realized that I just needed to use a credit card to buy my ticket and count on my last couple paychecks with the school to keep me going until paychecks from teaching English rolled in.

English nor money was pulling me back to Asia, but rather, it was what's called Samvega in the Pali language, which means something like spiritual urgency. I knew that the East is a good place for a young seeker to be, with many opportunities to explore Buddhism, yoga, and meditation. Since these three things have become my passions in the last few years, I had to trust my intuition that was pulling me back. Not long after that I bought my ticket and my time in Colorado was yet again coming to an end, as it had the first time I left it for Thailand 3 years ago. Since I was connected with a strong community of yoga and meditation practitioners in Colorado, I had a few weeks to ask around, getting ideas for places to meditate and countries to visit. At the top of my list was Burma, which is known for having some of the most intense meditation practices in the world. Of course, in my mind, I had everything planned out, but as I am once again reminded, I'm not in control here.

So I was going to get a meditation VISA for Burma and try to spend a few months at one of the monasteries that I had my eye on. But then another idea came up, maybe I should go to India first, do a yoga teacher training course and prepare my body for sitting in meditation long of the day. Either way, I would return to Colorado after a year and settle down in Durango. Both seemed like good ideas, and although the big decision to make about whether or not to go back to Thailand had been made, a series of equally difficult decisions had yet to be made, and again, those decisions have been shaping my life ever since then.

After teaching English for about 5 months, I moved out of my bungalow in Sukothai province and hit the road on October 1st of 2012. Since then, I've managed to spend 2 months in intensive meditation settings in 4 different countries, incuding Thailand, Burma, India, and Nepal, and devoted about 2 months to yoga, including a 4 week teacher training course. Even though my plan didn't work out the way I thought it would, you can see that my dream last year and the reality of what has happened the past 7 months are pretty similar. The details look a little different, but the beautiful thing is that what actually happened was better than what I had hoped for. Despite not getting a meditation VISA for Burma, and thereby having to cut my trip there to 1 month, I have a feeling that the way things have worked out have been far beyond what I could have imagined.

It's important to have plans, to have dreams about the future, but we need to understand that ultimately, the future is out of our control. There are too many forces at work, unexpected twists and turns in life to think that we can create the future. But, we do find that we can co-create with the universe. By having an intention, we act and can thereby manifest something within the confines of our own abilities and in accordance with the laws of nature. In this way, we can cause a rock in our hand to hit the ground by letting go of it. The intention will be to let go of the rock and one can be sure if unobstructed, that rock will hit the ground. This is working within our limitations and in accordance with the laws of nature. Whether we do this consciously or unconsciously, we are doing it. If we can become aware of our intentions, we can consciously sculpt them in order to bring about a desired result. One will find, that if they let go of the rock but have the desire for it to go up instead of down, they will be going against nature and will fail to produce the desired result.

What this means for us is that we can set intentions to consciously create our future while understanding that we have limited abilities. Instead of having a plan and sticking to it, we can see that it's better to have dreams, to have ideas, and to be open for what the future holds. If we are too attached to our plans, we will miss opportunities as they present themselves to us. Besides, you never know when you get hit by a bus while trying to cross the street or a meteor lands on your head. You just never know.

On this trip in particular, almost nothing has gone as planned. I thought I knew what was going to happen, I was to fly to Goa and start my yoga teacher training on the beach right away. I'd be a certified teacher by the end of January, make my way to the Kumbha Mela, then to Bodh Gaya for a meditation retreat, and then to Rishikesh before flying back to Thailand in March. I had it all figured out and was happy about my little plan. Oh, how foolish I was! What I didn't know, yet, was that India had a different plan for me. When I've been able to accept this, things have gone pretty smooth for me, but when I resist this idea, and I try too hard to control, I have suffered. And believe me, Oh, how I have suffered on this trip. Not only has it been the most rewarding adventure of my life, it's also been the most difficult, and challenges have been plentiful.

So what happened was I didn't like my yoga course, in Goa, dropped out after 1 night, and headed to Auroville, a spiritual and intentional community run mostly by foreigners, to volunteer at Sadhana Forest, a reforestation project. After 3 weeks of living with travelers from all over the world, planting trees, and making new friends, I headed to Bangalore to see Amma. My week in Bangalore gave me time to spend 3 days at the Art of Living ashram for a yoga course, and to see the IKSCON (Hare Krishna movement) International Headquarters. From there I took the train to Kolkata and then to Gaya, for my 10 day retreat, which proved to be the only thing that really worked out as planned. After 2 weeks in Bodhgaya, soaking up the Buddhist pilgrimage vibe, I dropped my stuff on in Sarnath and headed out to the Kumbha Mela. Although I did have that planned before as well, I planned to go before the meditation retreat during the peak time of the over 1 month religious festival that attracted 80 million people. Having found the crowds when I was there to be more than enough, I was grateful to not have gone during the peak bathing dates.

It was around this point that I decided to take a short dip into Nepal, to hit up a Burmese meditation center in Lumbini that a German told me about. Besides, I had already gone to two of the four main Buddhist Holy places, and this allowed me to complete the circuit. This new idea meant I only had one night at the Mela and one night in Varanasi, India's holiest city along the Ganges River. After sleeping on the ground with a bunch of dirty hippies in the Rainbow Camp at the Mela and then watching dead bodies burn and barely avoiding getting eaten by street dogs in Varanasi, I was ready to get back into the silence of a meditation retreat, so as to do the work that would allow me to handle these adverse situations that India was throwing at me. If you come here in your own little world, full of judgments and feeling entitled, your bubble will be popped by the shit-show that is this country. The more I practice meditation, the more I am able to find peace amidst the craziness, to keep my balance even in the face of difficult situations.  It helps me to see that everything is in a constant state of flux, and there's nothing really there to grab onto. I sense myself constantly changing and understand that so is everything else. Understanding this helps me to relax my expectations, and to be okay with whatever happens. It hasn't been easy. Sometimes, I feel strong, and other times, at my weakest.

While in Auroville, in January, I made reservations for another yoga teacher training course in Rishikesh, so I headed there from Nepal after my 8 day retreat in Lumbini. I started training on my own, taking classes around town, and preparing for the 1 month intensive. After the first few hours of the course, I knew that, once again, I had found myself in the wrong place. Another failed attempt to plan to be where I needed to be. Where I needed to be, as I found out, was further north, up around Dharamsala. So after 2.5 weeks in Rishikesh, I came to Dharamsala and found the neighboring community of Bhagsu for a third attempt at becoming a yoga teacher. When I got here, the doubt that was prevelant in Goa and Rishikesh had vanished, and I knew with all my heart that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Looking back in this way, at the facts, makes me realize how blessed I've been and how it would have been impossible for me to plan out for all these things to happen to me. My trip has been much different than I expected, but more rewarding that I had imagined. By staying open to what the universe has in store for me, I've been afforded the ability to see opportunities, and the flexibility to take advantage of them. I now know that when sculpting my future, it's good to have dreams, it's good to have a sense of purpose and direction, but when the time comes, it's good to be able to let go of plans and step into the magic and the mystery that is the present moment.

Now, one year after returning to Thailand, I have no plans to return to the good ol' USA and am overwhelmed by this magic and the beauty of life. My head is once again filled with a million ideas about the future, but I'm learning how to keep the fire stoked without getting burned. What lies ahead for me in the future is only possibilities, and I now believe that any dream of mine can come true. As for my fate, time will only tell. I can only hope that this feeling I have today, high up in the Himalayas, about how life is one epic journey, will never fade. Keep dreaming!