GARDEN OF SCATTERED ASHES

My cat Patience passed away in February of 2007 and I had her ashes delivered to me in a very handsome wooden box made in India. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the ashes so when I went overseas I took them with me

On the first anniversary of her passing I was meditating with friends in Jakarta when I got the message that she would like to be scattered somewhere at my parents home.

When I returned home recently I saw exactly where her ashes would be scattered. A lovely garden with green plants, flowers and plenty of birds to keep her happy.

This garden is beautiful. Just like her.

More pictures can be seen on Facebook.

RETURNING TO THE UNITED STATES

Tomorrow, Friday, May 29, marks my last day at work here in Bangkok and from here I will return to the US -- and Kentucky -- and Louisville -- on June 2nd.

I have learned more than I thought I would and I can truthfully say that absolutely NOTHING turned out the way I thought it might, but then again, I didn't have much of a reference point of what I wanted to happen in the first place.

I called this 20 month adventure "The Great Work."  I will expand on that theme, what I've observed and lessons I've learned in future entries.  I will also explain why I made so few entries to my blog while I was overseas.

So much has happened and so much more will happen.  I have my plans but life has a way of happening when you're making other plans, so I will have to be flexible to a point (I think I've heard this refered to as yogic flexibility). 

More later.

SONGKRAN - STATE OF EMERGENCY

Songkran is supposed to be the time of the Thai New Year where there are celebrations for three days and water is thrown on everyone as a gesture of of frivolity and goodwill. However, this year, Songkran is coincides with a State of Emergency declared by Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva due to disruptive and violent protests by the UDD also known as the "Red Shirts," and the "polar opposties" of the PAD "Yellow Shirts" who took over the airports a few months back. The UDD are supporters of ex-Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra who was ousted in a coup back in 2006 and has been convicted of several charges of corruption and is living somewhere outside of Thailand. The current government wants to extradite Thaksin to Thailand to serve a jail sentence.

It's all complicated and especially frustrating for the people of Thailand who are working hard to get a functional democracy in South East Asia. It especially gives a bad impression of a very beautiful country, nevertheless...

I'm living nowhere near the protests and violence and enjoying the quiet that this situation has bestowed upon me. At least for the moment.

WIDE AWAKE IN MANILA, JAKARTA AND BANGKOK

A repost of an earlier entry featuring my video/slideshow of three Southeast Asian cities I've had the privilege/misfortune to visit or live in.  

RESPONSE TO GAZA CRISIS AND THE ONGOING DEBATE OF ISLAM VS. JESUS VS. JUDAISM

Since living in Indonesia I've formed some pretty stong opinions about the people who practice Islam. At the same time I must admit that I know very little about the religion itself, so I always reserve judgement about the faith. The same goes for Judaism because whenever I discussed what I thought I knew with my Jewish friends, I discovered I knew very little indeed. I do, however, know a great deal about Christianity and while I believe at it's core, Christianity is truly a wonderful and liberating path, it again comes down to the people who practice the faith who are certain they have cornered the market on truth.

I'm tired of arguments as to who is more powerful (i.e. Jesus vs. Mohammed) and why the Jews need to accept Jesus as the Messiah returned or else they will risk eternal damnation.

Frankly, it makes me sick.

A few years ago -- 2001 to be exact and before September 11 -- I wrote a poem about a dream I had and still have. I do not believe it is a naive dream but one that will arrive in its own time, like the proverbial Slow Train Coming. I re-read it the other day and decided I wanted to post it again. This is how I feel about the whole matter.

MILLENNIUM PRAYER

it's 2001
and the news today
tells of an 11-year-old boy shot in the heart
in retribution for the murder
of a ten-month old infant

the eye for an eye mentality
that pervades and desecrates
a holy place spreads howling and shrieking
like an airborne virus in the center of a vortex
guarantying that as long as there is blame
warlords, mercenaries and demagogues
will remain fat, wealthy and gainfully employed.

it's 2001
and all grievances are justified
blood reeks heavy
on both sides of the tracks
war, carnage and aggression
have taken names like
security
defensible borders
and surgical strikes
with the assurance of peace
yet they bring nothing
but the promise of blood

it's 2001
and the earth has been drenched
in centuries and generations
of blood

if i could wish for anything
on this turn of the wheel
i would wish for a piercing shaft of light
to split everyone's skull
settle somewhere between the eyebrows
and teach us the next steps in this
evolutionary dance of consciousness

i would wish for a molecular change
so that we stop playing by rules
learned in the peloponnesian wars
and the crusades
and finally realize
violence is no longer an option
intention must be formulated before speech
and simple acts
such as breathing
and listening
are raised to a high art

it's 2001
and if i could pray for anything
it would befor a brilliant pool of light
somewhere between
the dome of the rock
and the western wall
a place for pilgrims
and ancient enemies to worship
bathe and wash the blood
from each other's hands.

Paul McDonald © 2001

MY FAVORITE MOMENT FROM THE INAUGURATION

MUMBAI GRIEVES WHILE BANGKOK RECOVERS

The situation here in Thailand appears to be settling down -- at least for the moment. The airports are open and the threats of violence and a coup have dissapated. Again I must add, at least for the moment.

In the meantime Mumbai is having to endure the shock America when through during the 9/11 attacks. I've included a video of the NBC Nightly News broadcast reporting the deaths of several Israelis from the Chabad House including Rabbi Gavriel Holtberg and his wife, Rivka. There is also an interview with Master Charles Cannon who was a former disciple of my guru Swami Muktananda. He was a monk in Siddha Yoga until 1983 when he left the order to found the Sychronicity Foundation. His group was in India on retreat when the attacks occured.

Several friends of mine from Southeast Asia were going to the Siddha Yoga Ashram in Gurudev Siddha Peeth which is located just outside of Mumbai. However, those plans have had to be postponed.

STANDOFF IN BANGKOK; TEARS FOR MUMBAI

I haven't updated this blog in several weeks and I planned to talk about how beautiful this city is and the difference of living in a Buddhist country as opposed to an Islamic country.  However events that I never wanted to happen let alone write about have dictacted that I must not ignore the crisis that is looming over this city.  

Several days ago protesters from the PAD (The People's Alliance for Democracy) took over both Bangkok Airports (Survarnabhumi and Don Muang) demanding that the prime minister resign.

 

The PAD have a legitimate grievence:  the current government is perceived(and may very well be) as corrupt as a pirated DVD, but it was democratically elected and legal means are in motion to have it removed by due process of law.  But the PAD appear to want none of the rule of law opting for mob rule no matter how much it damages their city, their county or their cause.  I hope that violence and bloodshed do not ensue because of this crisis, but when you have two sides that at least appear to not be listening to each other you could have a bloody aftermath followed by weeks of martial law, something I hope never happens in a country as beautiful as Thailand.

Add to this the horrendous events in Mumbai and I'm beginning to feel the way I did in 1968: 

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world..."

--W.B. Yeats "The Second Coming"

Several friends of mine from Bangkok were planning on leaving for Mumbai for a spiritual pilgrimage this next week but the events there -- and here -- have put the entire sojourn into doubt.  I had also hoped to travel to India sometime in the next several months on my own pilgrimage, but I'm not sure if that's going to happen now.

It's all overwhelming to say the least.  In both cases I feel virtually powerless and at a total loss as to how to honor those who have died in Mumbai.  I was reminded of a prayer for peace I heard years ago; I don't remember it too well but it's usually recited at the end of Dave Stringer's kirtans.  I've tried to reproduce it through Google and memory as best I can.  It is a quote from the Rig Veda:

 "May the wicked become good,
May the good obtain peace,

May the peaceful be freed from bonds,
May the free set others free."

HOW TO DRY YOUR SOCKS IN BANGKOK

A rambling personal monologue posted for friends and family.

ONE YEAR IN JAKARTA, NOW ON TO BANGKOK

BANGKOK 2008

This is a video slideshow of my recent excursion to Bangkok in July 2008. Thanks and apologies go to Tim Rice, Bjorn Ulvaeus, Benny Andersson and Murray Head for the soundtrack.

"One Night In Bangkok" from the album Chess; lyrics by Tim Rice, Music by Bjorn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson. (C) 1984 3 Knights Ltd.

TRUST YOURSELF

"The Bob Dylan Drawn Blank Series" at Artisan Fine Art Galleries in the UK
June 14, 2008.

EIGHT MONTHS THUS FAR IN JAKARTA

I haven't made a blog entry for almost two months because real life has demanded I turn my attention to work, self-inquiry and reflection devoid of delusions. In other words, my ego got a major ass-kicking that needed to happen. For a deeper explanation, please see Sally Kempton's article "Waking Life," in the March, 2008 issue of Yoga Journal, because its all part of the growth process. We never stop growing, I suppose, as long as we're willing to jump through whatever firey hoops we encounter.

In my case, I came down with bronchitis in March and was in bed for about a week. This pretty much triggered a ten-day depression that saw me sobbing on the phone to my brother and going though the narcissistic pangs of "Oh, my God, I've wasted my LIFE!!" Looking at the same four walls for over a week in a town where the imams crank it up five times a day regardless of how bad you feel while your collegues at work are struggling with E Coli doesn't tend to breed the most cheerful attitude.

The good news is -- I got over it. Thank God for meditation, mantras, 12-step fellowships, work and Effexor.

Since then I've been extremely busy with work and spiritually related activities that are keeping me humble and in the moment. I really don't care to get specific except to say that the longer I stay here the more I come to realize that the Journey is the Destination. When you live in a city as infrastructurally challenged as Jakarta, you either surrender to a higher knowledge of acceptance or descend into the abdominally cramped existance of self-loathing and resentment.

Its just that simple.

THE CALL TO PRAYER

One of the things I enjoy about the Indonesian Culture I’ve been exposed to is that it gives me a great opportunity to see just how ingrained faith is in the day to day lives of the people. Up until recently, December 21, 2007 to be exact, I had been frustrated with the mosques that surround my boarding house. Five times a day, an imam will intone a call to prayer, usually around 4:30 am, that is broadcast over a loudspeaker throughout the neighborhoods of Jakarta. If there are several mosques they all intone in a kind of Stockhausen 12-tone cacophony, that, if you’re like me and not used to these things, you might consider annoying. Well, at least that was my attitude up until the morning of December, 21.

December 20 was the day of the Hajj, when the faithful make a pilgrimage to Mecca. From 6pm 12/20 to 6am 12/21, loud recordings of imams and children bombarded the neighborhood. It went on all night causing me all sorts of personal displeasure until I finally drifted off to sleep. The next morning when I woke up and did my morning meditation I was astonished at the depth, bliss and the vibrancy of that meditation. It was then I understood. This was not noise. This was PRAYER!! The atmosphere was permeated and saturated with Shakti, the energy of God.

One of my colleagues is a devout Muslim and told me that there are stories of people who became Muslim simply by hearing the chant and it resonating with their hearts. It reminded me of learning to meditate listening to the chants of Tibetan Monks, a sound which, although it was a little scary, had a majestic compassion that pulled me into a place where I would focus on my breath, still my mind and allow reality to take on a crystalline dimension. My meditation on the day of December 21 was no different.

VIDEO FROM UBUD

Video made from still photos and Ravi Shankar's music from my visit to Bali over the holidays. It rained alot, but the last day the sun came out and you could hear George Harrison's voice in the wind singing "Here Comes The Sun/It's Alright..."

HEADING TO BALI

Going to the city of Ubud for Christmas.
With any luck, I'll find Elizabeth Gilbert's Medicine Man.

BLOK M JAKARTA

Sunday Afternoon at Blok M in Jakarta. A very festive place to be. Great energy. See the slideshow at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/37763169@N00/show/

CULTURE SHOCK

I have been battling the standard frustrations someone would inevitably battle in a massive, kick-down-the-door move from Northern/Western Hemisphere Culture to Southern/Eastern Hemisphere Culture: 220 volt outlets, a traffic system that was probably inspired by a mixture of bad opium and feng shui, and – the one that has caused me the most grief so far -- medication readily available in the West that you don't have a prayer of finding over here unless you want to sacrifice half of your monthly salary.

Not that I didn't expect this, but I never knew what form it would take until I got here. Besides, I wasn't about to be stymied, stifled, kyboshed or otherwise frightened into giving up the journey because it might be a little difficult to find my anti-depressant meds over here. After all, I was told that most everything, including chemotherapy, is found over the counter here, right? And it isn't expensive, right?

Well, people like to talk…

I brought a three month supply of Wellbutrin XL that was rapidly running out because I had to increase the dosage to deal with the stress of Culture Shock. I was going to have to bump up the dosage even if I was still living in the States due to my ongoing battle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Of course, over here, there are very little seasonal changes. Sunlight is pretty much 12 hours a day and there are only TWO seasons: rainy and hot" and "dry and hot." But stress can always trigger those feelings of despair, shame, hopelessness and a nagging sense that you have wasted your life. A very contracted, boxed-in space that only gets worse no matter how much time you spend talking with your friends or therapist. I've probably suffered from depression all my life, but it wasn't until I had a couple of years sobriety under my belt (I was 35 at the time) that I began taking Prozac. It made a world of difference. I began writing and was able to hold down a job. I tried going off them for awhile during the summer of '06 and learned, after a major anxiety attack, that it wasn't a good idea. For me, antidepressants are as necessary as insulin for a diabetic.

Anyway I began to investigate how to go about replenishing my Wellbutrin supply when I discovered that you cannot get it here unless you want to pay a small fortune and have it shipped from Singapore. To make a long story short I had to switch to another med, Effexor, which is still expensive, but available nonetheless. This in itself was not a bad idea as it was probably time to switch to another med anyway. I once made the mistake of staying on Zoloft for over ten years. By the time someone convinced me to switch meds; I was thirty pounds overweight and battling suicidal ideation.

I felt pretty good taking Effexor but after about two weeks the chasm of despair began to open like an Indonesian volcanic fissure. The feeling was all too familiar: a hole that would be difficult to pull myself out of; all you want to do is cry and sleep. I was losing my focus at work and being in a foreign country with a language barrier and issues of intimacy magnified twelve-fold I decided to make another trip to the Dr. who advised bumping up the med from 75mg to 110mg.

So far it's worked. However, antidepressants, like any medication, only take you part of the way there. The trick is to find the thought patterns and trigger points so you can handle the Shock, Denial, Bargaining, Depression and eventual Acceptance of living in a foreign county.

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I hadn't left Louisville and it was time to do so. Not that Jakarta is my home. Hardly. But as nice a town as Louisville, Kentucky is, it has become for me – on a strictly personal level – a place to leave behind. It has become my past. And it will probably take a while for all of that to sink in.

One day at a time with only the world to gain.

WHAT MY SIX AND SEVEN YEAR OLDS HAVE TAUGHT ME

I teach two classes of English for children. They actually speak a lot better than most adults but it's been quite an educational experience for me as well. So far, I've learned:

1. To be grateful that I have an attention span that lasts longer than 3 seconds.

2. To be grateful I don't have to deal with losing my baby teeth.

3. If you want to control a rowdy noisy bunch give them some crayons and paper. Creativity comes natural and works quicker, and often better, than ritalin.

4. If you want everyone to STOP YELLING at the top of their lungs, start to talk in a whisper. They'll be quiet trying to hear what you have to say.

5. Once you have them in that quiet space, YELL one word at the top of your lungs when they least expect it.

6. The next time you start to talk in a whisper, they'll stop what they're doing and put their fingers in their ears, expecting you to drop the bomb any moment.

7. If you create a powerpoint presentation based on the song “I Know An Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” pretend you're going to tickle one or two of them whenever you get to the picture of the Spider who “wiggles and jiggles and tickles inside her.” Then whenever that picture comes back around watch how fast they pull their book bags from under the chairs to guard their torsos.

8. “Spongbob Squarepants” is really a funny movie!



9. Any Indonesian six or seven year old worth his or her salt knows the Spongebob dialogue – in English–about as well as you knew the Rocky Horror dialogue when you were in college.

Finally, you will learn:

10. That no matter how computer literate you think you are, a third world six or seven year old will ALWAYS have a higher computer I.Q.

JAKARTA MACET: ANOTHER RING OF HELL, PURGATORY OR HUNGRY GHOST BARDO STATE...

The most glaring omnipresent annoyance I have to deal with in Jakarta is the traffic commonly called Macet. More than one journalist has written that the traffic in Jakarta moves about as swiftly as blood through a corpse. I'm sorry, but that's just giving the traffic a little too much credit. This evening when I was having the cab driver take me home, I had him drop me off a little over 2 km from my destination so I could walk the rest of the way. Before that the traffic hadn't moved in over ten minutes with the meter ticking away. The last time I saw the cab driver he was still sitting there waiting for an opening that I didn't think was going to happen anytime soon. Even though this is pretty much a Muslim country I wonder if there isn't some ring of Hell, Purgatory or Bardo State that relates to Jakarta Macet. Just a thought...