In search of peace and a bit more happiness

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21 July 2009

The first rule of meditation club is…there are no locks.

I THINK I knew the answer before I asked, but I asked anyway. Had to be sure. Shortly after checking in and dropping our bags in our basic double room, I went back to the office and meekly asked, “Is there a key for the room at all?”. The Buddhist nun shot glances to the other two people in the room, then rest her eyes back on mine. “Um, no. I don’t think there is.”

I gave her a half-smile and gingerly backed out of the room, letting the door hit me on the way out.

I suppose that’s the nice thing about living at a temple. There’s not exactly a high crime rate. But the big city mindset is a hard one to shake, and we still tucked the camera away under the bed. You know, just in case.

Hiding Mao

One of the first things I did when we got there was, naturally, pull out my notebook. Yvonne cleverly pointed out that on the cover was a portrait of Chariman Mao. He wasn’t exactly the president of the Buddhist Fan Club.

I picked up this little nugget in Beijing. My Moleskine had packed it in and I guess I got caught up in the cultural phenomenon that is Mao.

In an effort to remain tasteful and respectful, I used the notebook discretely, folding the front cover back so it wasn’t visible, making sure not to place it where others would see it.

Thou shalt not hurt another living being

In addition to the locks and Mao thing, Yvonne killed a mosquito in our room. Right in front of the framed poster with all the Buddhas in it. Do not cause harm or suffering to any living creature. Oops. So we’re off to a bad start. Is that karma?

Chasing that first high

On the Friday we arrived we had our first meditation session. It was an introduction in which our spiritual guide, Lhachog, talked about why we meditate and then guided us through our first 15 minute meditation. It was a simple meditation, the meditation that is the launching pad of all other meditations: the breathing meditation.

It’s easy enough, you get yourself in a comfortable position (not too comfortable as we don’t want to fall asleep), close your eyes gently, focus on your breath and clear all thoughts out of your head. OK, so maybe not easy enough. What you discover doing this is just how busy your mind actually is. I didn’t have much in the way of coherent thoughts popping through, but more of a constant static, like there were a thousand televisions on at once.

Once that first meditation was over I opened my eyes and had a very strange sensation. I felt very peaceful and had this very strong urge to just sit there being still. I found it hard to move, which is odd as I’m a serial fidgeter. I’d hear Yvonne talk to me but I didn’t want to answer, I didn’t want to talk for fear of breaking the feeling. (Yvonne said after a few minutes of meditation she wanted to get up and scream – how’s that for contrasting experiences).

In our room that night, with the paper thin walls, I could hear the girls next door giggling away and the guy on the other side talking business on his mobile. I wondered, how could they suddenly return to being so normal after such an experience? That night I had no doubt that, no matter what your lot in life, you could find happiness. All you needed was a bit of food and preferably a quiet place.

Over the next few days, I tried to chase the feeling. I was told that once you try to chase the feeling you’ll never get it. That I agree with. For the rest of the weekend I never did get the feeling back.

Vegetarians for a weekend

I’m not sure I’ve ever gone six straight meals without a single piece of meat, but I didn’t miss it for one second there. The food they dished up was simply phenomenal – some of the freshest, tastiest dishes I’ve eaten. It was the type of food that could make me consider going vegetarian full time. Could make me. I still won’t do it.

Lhachog

Our spiritual guide: late-30s? female, shaved head, saffron robe, slight English accent. Spoke slowly, deliberately, pausing to search for the perfect words to say. During meditation, her voice was in resonance with the thought-waves in the room, her instructions not piercing the stillness, but instead perfectly complementing the silence.

“We’re going to learn a different way to think. Because the way we think isn’t working.”

Agreed. That much is clear. She goes on to explain that if we chase happiness in external things that we will never find it. Nothing external can bring us happiness because, over time, anything external will eventually fail. She gives the clever example of chocolate. At some point, if you eat enough chocolate it will turn to suffering. The true source of happiness will never fail to bring us happiness.

Lhachog raised some very interesting points over the weekend, points that are cause for serious consideration.

For now I digest what she has said and search my soul a little more.

Feature Photo: zenonline