Thursday, February 21, 2013

Pre-contemplation



Here’s a brief first entry, just setting up the blog, making sure that it works. Profundity will have to wait, as will penetrating insights to life and travel that I’m sure will produce senses of awe in all of you. After I post these words I’ll shut down my laptop for 30 days. Please take a few minutes to imagine that—no electronic devices for 30 days.

I told many of you about how anxious I’ve been feeling about the whole thing. And as predicted, within an hour of touching down on the Yangon tarmac I thought, “Why the hell didn’t I do this ten years ago?” Well, one good reason is that soldiers were shooting unarmed monks, students, and Japanese news photographers in the streets only five years ago—2007, only a few blocks from my hotel. But why did I wait for 10 years between international jaunts? My knee operation in India doesn’t count. New Orleans only counts for 50% as a foreign country.

I wasn’t prepared for the other strong reaction I had: been here, done that. I’ve been here for less than 36 hours, and my main thought at this moment is, “Get thee to a monastery and place thy butt on a meditation cushion.”

The one exception is so major as to be laughable: Shwedagon Pagoda. Shwedagon Pagoda. Look it up. I’m still feeling the power of this morning’s trip to Shwedagon Pagoda. I’ve been studying Buddhism for over a decade now, so it makes sense that Shwedagon should have such a strong effect on me, but I got the feeling that it provides a spiritual experience that visitors from other faiths can also pick up on. I was impressed by the large number of young people I saw doing their morning meditations in various shrines located around the main stupa. They showed enormous respect for the old monks collecting their alms. I watched many elderly monks doing their practice in front of their preferred Buddhas—by that I mean there are hundreds of Buddha statues at Shwedagon, many of them with their own separate shrines with teak or marble floors on which practitioners sit, chant, or do their silent practice. Those monks have spent all of their lives working on their minds. I tried to imagine doing 60 or more years of practice, 60 or more years of working on moment-to-moment awareness.  

Many of the hundreds of Buddhas I saw had newly installed halos of streaming red, blue, green, yellow and white lights. Disco halos. Karaoke halos. Remember in the 90s, when there was a thankfully short trend of tape decks and CDs players with multi-colored lights that grew in intensity and speed in time with the music? Those kinds of halos. My first reaction was “tacky,” but by the time I did my third circuit around the pagoda, I was more accepting of the images of light emanating from the various Buddhas’ minds. I mean, that’s where all the action is, right? At least that’s what I’m told.

Starting tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be testing that idea while alternating between sitting and walking meditation for 12 or more hours a day in an environment with no disco halos. I haven’t been there, haven’t done that. I’ve walked through many Chinese, Muslim, and Indian neighborhoods in countries that weren’t China, Pakistan, or India. I’ve walked through many street markets one way, and then turned around and walked through the same markets the other way. And while I am absolutely thrilled to be surrounded by these intense sights, smells and sounds, the main motivation for this trip is the retreat. After three intense months of preparation—getting rid of most of my possessions, stockpiling money, making it possible to perhaps spend one or more years overseas—I crave silence. There will be time later for scratching beneath the surface.

All of those sensory experiences I’ve had in the last day-and-a-half are short-lived, even the ones at Shwedagon. I didn’t understand that when I first started traveling around Asia in my 30s, I just got all caught up in the show. The show no longer has such a tight grip on me. As I was doing the tourist shuffle around the core of Yangon today, I kept repeating a phrase that the teacher at my last retreat said at the end of each day:

“All conditioned phenomena are impermanent, they arise and pass away. Understanding this deeply brings the greatest happiness, which is peace.”

I’ll let y’all know how it went in a month or so.

Jon

Shwe Oo Min Center: http://sayadawutejaniya.org/meditation-center/

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