Although I am approaching the summit, I am getting more and more exhausted. I am wondering, either Ladakhi’s have a completely different concept of a baby trek or I am on the wrong path. And if I am on the wrong path the buildings that I can barely see at the top could be a deserted monastery and I will have to sleep in an improvised place. I found some melting ice and an old hunters hut so I would have some water and shelter. I would be cold but I was sure I would be ok. The other thought that crossed my mind was: what if I make to the buildings and it indeed turns out to be a monastery and I am welcomed by some ultimately cool enlightened master?
Humbled in the Himalayas
I am amazed about how different this place is compared to Mumbai or Delhi (although I have spent only 36 hours in Delhi). First of all it is cold of course, about 33 degrees colder than what I was used to. But more interestingly, the people are a lot less submissive. Until now it was hard or even impossible to connect with waiters, rickshaw drivers, maids or street vendors. It almost felt they were a different species; the poorer they were, the more stripped from their humanity and dignity. Many of them had looks in their eyes of wild and abused animals: hollow, exhausted, afraid and powerless. Here it is different. People are friendly, helpful, and polite and try to get you in their shops in a charming way. I wish I were a better photographer because they all do great in pictures.
A beautiful day
It is Monday today and it is Queensday in Holland, our national holiday. As my friends will roam the streets and canals of Amsterdam I will be in a train from Mumbai to Delhi, and completely sober.
But I feel very happy! I am happy that my friends and my country are celebrating today and I am happy for myself. I feel a sense of completion. Last Saturday I gave my workshop in Mumbai. The initial idea was to give a 2-day workshop and people would have to pay a fee. Nobody registered and my host (and now agent and manager) Anu was disappointed that she would not experience what my work was about. This made me decide to just throw a last minute 1-day gig for her and her friends, as a present to her. I expected about 10 people. To my surprise 26 people showed up; even a bigger group than in Beirut.
Every day a brand new day
When we are open to it our days are filled with all kinds of little surprises and miracles. Who would have guessed an hour ago that I would sit outside writing my blog (now with two dogs trying to play with me. Ah, the dogs kicked sand all over my precious AirBook. That’s it, Mr Adventurous is going back inside). Where was I? We have a choice. We can either try to control, manipulate, avoid or decrease our experience (as we generally do, just observe your inner commentary on everything if you don’t believe me) or we can embrace it as it is presented to us. We can open up to the moment. It is not a nuisance that the moods of your co-workers can differ every day; it is a miracle. The sun comes out: people start to undress and flirt. It rains: people become moody. Isn’t it fascinating? The world becomes a field of play.
Calming down
I feel good about myself. I started my solo retreat. I meditated about 1 hour and 45 minutes today, swam about 1 km, did some strength exercises and ate healthy and moderate. I feel my system is quieting down, I feel that nature is taking care of me.
I am reading a book called “Autobiography of a Yogi” by Paramahansa Yogananda and I find it very fascinating (and humbling). It is published in 1946 and written by a yogi who lived from 1893 to 1952. He was the first yogi master to come to the United States. I have read about 200 pages and at this point he is still called Mukanda. He talks about his spiritual path and the remarkable encounters he had. The thing is, all these stories are mind-blowing if you can believe them or just or just ludicrous if you can’t.
Sex 2.0
I just saw a movie called Bliss, it came out in ’97 and was directed by Lance Young. The story is about a young couple. The man loves his woman dearly but she is emotionally troubled. Their relationship is challenged. They go to therapy but without too much success. Then the man finds out his wife is cheating on him. Turns out that the guy she is ‘sleeping’ with is a sex therapist called Balthazar (played by Terence Stamp). Initially the husband wants to beat the shit out the therapist for fucking his wife. Later, as the therapist explains his work, he becomes his student, devoted to heal his woman. The movie explains what a tantric path is about, how sex can be a path of healing.
As if a prayer is heard
My journey is primarily personal. I am doing what I believe in. I am deeply convinced that we as human beings need to break out of our paradigm of deficit, greed and fear. The last 8 years I often felt frustrated that I was unsuccessful at getting that message across on the scale I would like it to be. Although I often feel appreciated and even feel that people I work with have great results I often had a hard time to make ends meet, which brought up doubt at times. My journey at 40 is also intended as a closure with the past and going to the next level. It is about my need and desire to mature and take responsibility. And this is all good and stuff. But not for one second I had expected to actually be welcomed. That people would respond with gratitude and respect is something I had never fathomed. And I don’t think it is personal, that it is my special aura or something. It seems that just the fact that a fellow human being is coming with good intentions, who wants to share something that is experienced as deeply needed, is as if a prayer is heard.
Deep down we are all Warriors
So what have I learned? I have learned that human beings are very much the same. It doesn’t matter if they are Dutch, Greek, Israeli or Lebanese. It doesn’t matter if they are wealthy or less wealthy. We all experience loneliness, separation, suffering, doubt and sadness. And we all have the potential to embrace ourselves.
Another lesson is that it seems that the weight of every day life is heavier in a small community with quite a few social restrictions. That sounds like an open door when I write it down but it felt humbling when really being present with it. I saw quite a few caged people here, locked up in palaces, literally and metaphorically.
As I come almost to the end of this post I realize that I hope that people don’t see me or my journey as somebody or something exceptional but as something within their reach too. We can all identify our fears and then do the work to overcome them. Deep down we are all warriors. The only thing we need to do is start acting accordingly.
“I drove the ambulance”
Since it was Sunday the traffic wasn’t completely clogged, thank God. My taxi was driving unexpectedly fast, swerving fluidly from lane to lane, passing cars on the left and on the right. I am enjoying and appreciating the fact that this man will help me get into the snow faster than I had hoped. His English was not so good. I pat him on the shoulder and say: “you drive very good”. Then he said: “In 1988 we had war. I drove the ambulance”.
Why open up
What I am finding over and over again is that honesty heals. I didn’t realize that my post on the war of 2006 would be a relief for my Lebanese friends, not when I was writing it. I also didn’t count on readers to respond in such beautiful way. I am just busy figuring out what I am doing on this trip. I sometimes feel incompetent and frustrated that I can’t do more than bear witness. And I criticize myself for not being more outgoing and independent and too shy and money-conscious to go snowboarding all by myself.
When the young Syrian showed me the horrible footage, I realized he is trying to tell me a story he has no words for. Then I remembered an incident in a bus in the Philippines where I spent holidays with my first girlfriend, long before my spiritual journey had begun. The man next to me, who worked as a night watch told me about the corruption in his country. He was unable to send his son to University. He was clearly intelligent and overqualified but lived in an unfair system. I never forgot him or his story.
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