Lotus Monastery Day 4
Posted by: lucie
It's 5.20am and all you can hear is dogs barking all throughout the valley. I woke up to Hindi music drifting up the hill at around 4.30. At some point I'll have to start taking naps to maintain this schedule, but it's nice to be up when the place is totally quiet.
Many people are frustrated with the teachings. There are some who only came to learn to meditate, plenty who came to learn more about Buddhism and more than a handful who have studied it for years who don't seem to vibe with Venerable Monk very well. I skipped afternoon meditation and instead went to my room to read a book on it by the Dalai Lama. Then I skipped an evening session to hang out up on the hill with Brian.
We vented, analyzed, pondered things and felt generally like-minded about most of it... and we laughed and enjoyed each other's company. I don't feel all that attracted to him, though he is a very attractive boy, but the intellectual spark is nice.
It's 5.29 by my clock and though the gompa keeper has opened the doors, there are no monks yet to be seen. Yesterday at this time they filled the courtyard, so it makes me wonder whether there is to be a puja at all.
Last night Ida and I were talking about some of the teachings being very dogmatic and difficult to take, and Mel was giving it the "Well, lots of things come up on this course" (emotionally) and "everyone hears things differently" and stuff about people maybe getting agitated when they had to face their fears. I said you know, it really isn't personal. I haven't come anywhere near my fears. This just isn't what I expected. I feel like I'm being indoctrinated, and that's just not what I was looking for. I came to meditate and reflect. I don't want to learn about the eight levels of hell realms or the desire realms or hungry ghosts or any of this weird literal, detailed dogmatic stuff he's shoving down our throats. I don't feel like this course is actually suitable for beginners or non-Buddhists at all.
At dinner I sat with a group of women who were pretty pissed off about the meditation session. For starters, there wasn't much meditation, they said - it felt more like brainwashing. Ida was slightly more gentle. She called it a sermon. But the basic idea was the same; it wasn't well taken.
I'm going to get my yellow ribbon today and just wear it when I please. I'll take it off when I want to have a good chat with someone, but other than that I'll keep my mouth shut. I also won't necessarily go to all the teachings and other sessions. I have to start adapting this course to suit my needs.
--
9am. I've got my yellow ribbon! I'm going to pick out just a couple people (Ida, Brian) I'd still like to talk to and let them know that I'm down to sneak off somewhere and have chats. But I think if I keep talking to everybody here I'll drive myself to distraction.
The morning meditations are actually really productive - Ani Nun leads very gently, so most people enjoy them. Then we have 9am teachings with Venerable Monk, which vary, and then 3.30 teachings with him, 6.00 meditation/brainwashing with him, and 9pm session with Ani Nun. The 9pm tends to involve more chanting than meditating.
--
9am teachings
Q: "What is the origin of this clear-light nature of mind?" A: "Consciousness always arises from a previous instance of consciousness."
- Karmic imprints on the consciousness are not indelible. They can be removed.
- Pleasure gives rise to attachment. Suffering gives rise to anger.
- How to listen to the teachings: there are two kinds of ignorance. 1) Not knowing something. 2) Misperceiving things (eg perceiving the self as real), misdirected ideas, etc. To overcome ignorance, we need to listen to the teachings. Listening will remove these two kinds of ignorance.
- How can all things be known? Through listening. When the Dharma is understood, meaningless things are let go, Nirvana is attained. Very little can be accomplished through meditation without listening to the teachings first.
- "Just as someone who has eyes but cannot see what is in a dark house, so are people who were born into privilege incapable of understanding what is virtuous and what is not virtuous until they hear it."
- Appreciate the rarity of hearing Buddhist teachings - as rare as a precious jewel. "Like a flash of lightning on a cloudy night, briefly illuminates everything."
- Develop reverence for the teachings and for your instructor. Listen to the Dharma with unqualified reverence and respect. Sit on a lower seat. Watch with joyful eyes. Generate respect and focus your attention with an enthusiastic mind.
- The Six Discriminations:
1) Recognize yourself as a patient. Consider yourself sick. Seek out medicine.
2) Perceive the Dharma teacher as the doctor. "Just as a sick person relies on a doctor for a cure, so should you rely on a teacher for spiritual enlightenment." Overcome pride and follow teacher's advice without any reservation.
3) Perceiving the teaching (Dharma) as medicine. The only medicine for alleviating the suffering of all sentient beings. The sole source of permanent happiness and joy.
4) Recognize that serious ('assiduous') practice is the cure for the illness. ie take the medicine. Don't just carry it around. Meditation is to contemplate the teachings - take the medicine, etc.
- Q: Is Christ a Buddha? A: He never said so, but many Buddhists believe he was a Bodhisattva or a manifestation of a Buddha.
- Q: There are many other teachings that use a metaphor of medicine. What of those? A: Buddhism is the only medicine that can cure everyone of suffering for endless time, not just in this lifetime.
5) Perceiving that the teacher is a holy being.
- Re: Prostration - it is a show of respect for those who deserve respect - means good Karma. Pride is the primary obstacle to receiving teachings. Prostrate three times to Buddha, Dharma and Sangha or to Buddha's body, speech and mind.
6) Producing the wish that the Dharma will endure for a long time.
--
You are sick, this is medicine, accept the teachings - it's hard to get down with. You can roll with it and listen and take notes, but it is pretty heavy to take it all in as truth. A couple fundamental things about Buddhism just don't make proper sense to me. Like cyclic existence being nothing but suffering. I just find it counterintuitive that we should be put on this planet, into these bodies, only to try to escape. Surely we are here to learn some lessons about human life. It doesn't make sense that all pleasure should be avoided. That just doesn't resonate.
I think the trouble I'm having with this course is that they are teaching some very traditional, concrete doctrines rather than the principles of Buddhism, which everyone admires. I just don't want to have to admire them in the context of all this dogmatic structure. In the end it's still organized religion, and something about that is still difficult to submit to. It just doesn't feel like the real deal. I don't think there should be so many rules.
They're giving it to us so full-on that a lot of people feel uncomfortable and pressured.
Lotus Monastery Day 3
Posted by: lucie
5.20am. Another morning sound that starts nice and early: monks clearing phlegm from their throats. I've been up since 5. I'm going to watch some of the morning puja [prayer/offering ceremony] in the monks' gompa, which is unbelievably stunning. The teachers told us last night that it was okay to sit at the back and watch, but it's a little intimidating to march into that expansive hall. I don't see any monks piling in just yet, so I'm chilling in the courtyard waiting for a clue. Ah yes, the gompa keeper is opening the door now.
--
The monks' prostrations are a very physical feat - not this kneeling and touching your head on the floor business the westerners do. They put their hands on a little towel and slide it along the floor until their arms are outstretched, and only then do their knees make contact with the floor. You can see the muscles in their arms working and almost feel their pain once they've been doing them for half an hour or so.
The puja was impressive if a bit vague, being all in Tibetan. I could only stay for the first hour, so I just saw chanting and a food offering. Two sets of monks came in carrying giant bins, one with bread and the other full of hard boiled eggs. They offer them to the Buddha, then carry them around the gompa so each monk can claim his breakfast. They offered them to the three westerners who were watching as well.
It's humbling to be offered food by a monk. You don't really feel like you ought to accept it... but the woman ahead of me did, so I followed her lead. Next came some kind of hot, salty yogurt drink [butter tea]. It was pretty nasty, but of course you choke it down out of respect.
After that was morning meditation, which hurt. Everyone is in pain - not just the beginners. Even some of the people who work at Buddhist centers have told me they never meditate anywhere near this much. But rumor has it the pain starts to subside after five or six days, give or take depending on the particular person's physiology.
It's tough seeing a spider crawling around near the head of your bed and trying to love it.
My roommates are funny. Carmen acts like the teachings are all very simple and easy to understand, plus she already knows everything about life anyway. This doesn't stop her from confusing karma with synchronicity, meditating in a chair or sitting on her bed with two fingers over each eye chanting "ommmm"..?
Maria simply can't accept taking a shower every other day and has decided to wash herself with a cloth and bucket of water on alternate days. She spends most of the post-breakfast hour doing some kind of grooming activity.
Ida is lovely. She's very honest and I can ask her questions and share my doubts with her, which is a relief. With Carmen and Maria, it's almost like they're not even trying to be analytical about the teachings, so they don't really get it. Mel is one of the "I'm very Buddhist" types who seems to say the right things but still exudes a judgmental or even irritated vibe a lot of the time.
There are a lot of people like that here - in fact, Mel is probably one of the nicer ones. A few girls give off a downright creepy vibe. There's one with a shaved head who seems so tense and angry that every time I walk past her or vice versa I feel an urge to quickly back away.
I suppose there are a lot of people who don't truly understand what they're supposed to be practicing, which is probably the same in any religion.
All of this makes it easy to get resistant, especially when you add the first-day lecture on reincarnation. But the key, I think, is to stay focused on the idea that this is a personal journey.
--
9am teaching
- There will always be pain in samsara; the mind makes it worse by holding onto it. Don't focus on the pain as something that shouldn't be there. Don't be annoyed by the suffering; accept it and allow it as your karmic due.
- Dealing with pain in meditation: the more it becomes a distraction, the longer it takes to heal and calm. Either ignore the pain or try to go into it. Find exactly where it is.
- Imagine breathing in white light that burns up the negative and brings in the positive; burns up all causes for pain.
- Tong Len: Giving and Taking. Meditation of imagining all sentient beings enduring all kinds of suffering, pain, worry, loss, etc. Breathe in the suffering in the form of black light. This helps to overcome the self-cherishing attitude. Take on suffering out of compassion for others. Voluntarily experience pain ti discipline the self-cherishing thought. Free others of their suffering.
- Lam Rim - stages of hte path to enlightenment - evolved to give an outline of the stages so people could better understand the sutras, other teachings, etc.
- A condensed volume of essential ingredients of Buddhism in a way that can be used right now (sutras as wool, commentaries as yarn, Lam Rim as clothing ready to wear)
- Lam Rim sets out how to practice. Foundation Buddhism. Gives you material on which to meditate.
--
2pm - Ah, I had a great chat with Brian after lunch. He's pretty skeptical still, and we're both a bit unsure whether this course is exactly what we thought we were signing up for. Also we've apparently gone in for the school of Buddhism that thinks you should skip striving for Nirvana and go straight to enlightenment, even if it's going to take many lifetimes. We're both kind of thinking we'd rather aim for self-improvement and clear mind right now rather than meditating on the happiness of all sentient beings. I'm not ready to give compassion and loving kindness to all sentient beings. I don't even know if I'm ready to give compassion or loving kindness to myself.
I'm feeling a little bit silly about not doing more investigation into what this course was actually about (though I Googled for all I was worth and read everything I could find). This isn't really the type of meditation I wanted.
There was one moment in our conversation in which we contemplated leaving and finding some other adventures to go on. Or maybe just wearing the yellow ribbons of silence for at least a week and making our own personal retreats. Or skipping some of the teachings. Or the discussion groups.
I wanted to come away and have a retreat - clear my mind and reflect on things - and now it seems they're just going to try to fill it with a bunch of other stuff, like hell realms and god realms and strange things you can do to accumulate karma. I'm trying to remain open-minded, and it would be nice to learn all about Tibetan Buddhism and the Lam Rim, but that's not actually what I wanted to do with this month of my life. My objective was to find a bit of quiet; not to be indoctrinated into a religion. I want skills for this lifetime - not pie in the sky when I die.
I may not be in the right place.
--
3.30pm teachings:
- On following more than one spiritual path: "He who chases two rabbits catches none."
- Bodhichitta: spontaneously arising consciousness induced out of great compassion for others; wanting to alleviate the suffering of others. Aiming for enlightenment. The wish to achieve it for the benefit of all others. If someone achieves this mindset, day and night, without effort, they become a Bodhisattva.
--
Maybe I should just do most of the month in silence and skip some of the meditation and teaching sessions to practice meditating on my own, just back in the room. Maybe I'll only allow myself dinnertime, or last thing at night - just to take care of practical matters, or talk to the people I feel I relate to. I'd like to retreat from the crowd of my fellow students.
Maybe I should get my refund (today is the last day for a refund) and go sit on a hill somewhere.
That said, my basic needs are met here. I have food, a bed, a shower, my clothes... a spiritual place to hang out. I just don't want so much Dharma shoved down my throat. In retrospect, or knowing what I know now, anyway, I think it might have been better to come for a personal retreat - just rent a room, eat basic food and chill out.
Lotus Monastery Day 2
Posted by: lucie
6am - So yesterday I got a little bit freaked out. Venerable Monk gave this lecture on reincarnation and past & future lives, and it felt very much to me like he was saying we had to believe it, really, to get any further with this whole thing. Then, for the subsequent meditation session, we were told to take our memories back through the day, through yesterday, last week and even try to imagine the moments of birth and conception, then a previous life. Such imagining was meant to help us see the continuity of consciousness and thus accept the concept of past and future lives.
The worst part of the lecture was when Venerable Monk started giving it the "Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there."
Brian and I chatted later and he agreed; I said it sounded like the same dogmatic stuff you'd be expected to accept in any religion. Brian, who is quite the skeptic and not half clever, did me one better: "That means there might also be purple monkeys jumping around on my bed right now," he said.
I think he, like me, is mostly here to learn discipline and improve himself. But as I've said before, a lot of people seem to have come for more deeply religious reasons.
A girl I talked to at dinner said it would be a lot more analytical meditation than the simple 'focus on your breath' kind (which, incidentally, I found pretty satisfying yesterday). That's alright with me if we meditate on things like healing anger and developing compassion. That's the stuff we're all here for, right?
Discussion groups begin today and I'd like to ask some tough questions but fear I would sound argumentative, so I probably won't. Brian says he knows he'll just piss people off so he plans to keep his mouth shut.
All in all I really felt the whole "reincarnation and past/future lives are real" thing was a lot to spring on us the first full day, I guess. It feels like I've just started dating someone I've been admiring from afar for a while and he's grabbed me by the shoulders and given me an intense lecture on his entire life philosophy and said we can't get married and spend the rest of our lives together unless I agree and believe it with my heart and soul. I'm like damn, can't we just see a movie and make out first?
I'm definitely not here to become a Buddhist so I think I'll just take and leave what I like. I just hope there aren't many more shaky days like yesterday, because at times if felt a bit cult-like. Maybe it was just me. I'm still keeping an open mind.
Today is the first day we keep silence until after lunch. It's very peaceful. I'm drinking tea and watching the sunrise, listening to chanting. It's nearly time for morning meditation.
--
There's a kind of stage in the gompa [meditation hall] where members of the Sangha, ie monks and nuns, sit. One of them is a fairly young monk - white, American or Canadian I think - who sits at the side of the stage and listens to Venerable Monk with a look of real awe on his face - eyes wide, head slightly tilted, mouth just a bit open. I keep staring at him as I find this look on his face so fascinating.
--
8am I've meditated (poorly), had breakfast and 'circumambulated' the stupa six times.
Meditation was a lot messier today but Ani Nun said this was a positive thing - an indication that we were becoming more able to recognize the cluttered state of our minds, rather than an indication that they were becoming more cluttered.
I like this silence thing. It's very relaxing - especially when you've spent a few days meeting new people and trying to decide on whether to be social or solitary. Now it's decided: solitary until after lunch, social until 10pm, end of story.
I haven't had a shower for more than 48 hours and God knows my hair is showing it. It's so greasy it almost feels wet.
--
If you want to keep silence for more than just 10pm to lunchtime, you can get a yellow ribbon from the office to pin on your shirt. This is an indication to others that they shouldn't speak to you. I like the yellow ribbon idea. I think I'll try to wear one for at least a few days. It could be especially beneficial if I continue to feel skeptical about some of the teachings and just want to make use of this month as a simple retreat to learn to meditate and recharge my batteries. And yeah, that's pretty much what I did come here for. We'll see how it goes.
It's absolutely stunning here in the morning. The whole valley is filled with a white mist and the sun shines out from behind the mountains; monks chant and pray and bang drums and make lots of holy noise, and otherwise it's completely silent. You can get tea at 6am and take it out to a bench or outside table and just stare out over the valley. Incredibly peaceful.
We get up at about 5.45, brush our teeth and wash our faces, get dressed... the other girls take longer but I'm quick so I can get tea, chill out and write for a while. Meditation begins at 6.30 and goes until 7.30, but it's yet to be an entire hour-long stretch. There's usually a bit of guidance and a bit of explanation in the middle, then more meditation, then lunch. Everyone coughs like mad during morning session, clearing a night's worth of phlegm from their throats, which makes it hard to focus (though it's already hard enough).
I had a lot of thoughts of Eastern Europe today - just fleeting thoughts of people: Tom, Rebecca, my editor. And the office. I do feel I'll be clear-minded enough when I leave here to handle everything more or less properly. We'll see.
It's hard to believe I'm going to be here another 28 days. Yesterday was pretty exhausting. I'm sure it was partly because I slept so poorly the night before due to a myriad of thoughts swirling around in my mind, but these are still very long days. The meditation, though it's physically not that strenuous, is hard. It does tax your back muscles, and it slows you down. I nearly fell asleep yesterday at least twice during the evening session.
Some people left yesterday, I heard. You can get a refund up to day three.
--
I certainly prefer the Taoist idea of where we come from and where we go. It makes more sense to me. And I suppose I always knew it would, but thought I could use a bit more spiritual structure - meaning "how to." How do you become such a person? How do you learn to roll with the tao? According to Taoism, you kind of just do. And maybe we would if we weren't riddled with the faults and confusion of modern society. Buddhism seems to give you mechanisms with which to strip all of that away and return to a natural state of clear-mindedness, which is attractive.
--
I've had my first discussion group and I'm the only one in the group who hasn't yet done some kind of Buddhist retreat. Yet only one or two of them seem to have any idea what they are talking about. I don't know... there's a strange mix of people here.
Flipping the Switch
Posted by: lucie
I have successfully Flipped The Switch. I did it last night and Tom did the same. It was great. We hung out, we were friends, I saw very clearly that we could never date, we got back to our old affectionate way of relating and I even (!)addressed the situation(!)!!
We met for a drink and saw Walk The Line, which you must all see, regardless of whether you have a passion for Johnny Cash or not. In truth, I missed the whole thing - but after seeing the film I regret it and want to catch up on the back catalogue.
Afterward we found an odd Dutch-themed bar, had a few lovely Czech beers and eased our way into talking about dating. He's preparing to break up with the woman he's been seeing (and in fact may well be doing so as I type). She wrote an SMS to a friend calling him an idiot, most likely for not being the most communicative type or answering her many SMSes and emails promptly, but she sent it to him by mistake. He didn't check his phone until morning, by which time he had five messages from her, the last of which were to the effect of 'Baby, it can't end this way, please call me, we have to work it out.'
This, he says, made him realize how bad the relationship actually was - not because she called him an idiot, but because he didn't even care. "It's just getting farcical," he said, explaining that he'd texted back saying they could talk about it when they next met, but that he knew he had to end it now. She sent him a lovey message while we were together talking about how everything was going to be great. It was sad and desperate, and typical of us girls - we think they're idiots but we're still all "baby, let's work it out!" Girls, why? Why do we do that?
We talked about the Buddhist Perfect Date Boy (from whom I had another email) and about my ex (about whom my one big question is emphatically: "Who was that person?") and his ex and why love is so confusing and difficult to pin down. And what seemed to be hanging in the air was not just the fact that we had this physical experience that remained to be acknowledged, but also the idea that love is a bitch because we, ranked so highly on each other's lists of favorite people, couldn't just love each other. That we could adore each other, enjoy each other and be attracted to one other but not be together. Because for whatever reason, and God knows I can't explain it, we just couldn't. Can't. Won't be.
It was vague the first time we met, when I think both of us wondered whether we were on a date, or whether we even wanted to be, but this time things were very clear. Still, the tension remained, and my desire to get rid of it was strong enough that I actually managed to push semi-adult words out of my mouth rather than skirt the issue, as is my custom. "Okay, I'm not really one to address things," I said after at least two attempts to speak which garnered no audible results, "but let's just - let's just do this once. That whole... when-I-was-here-last-time thing?" (here his face went from dead serious into a wide smile) "It just... wasn't ever going to work. And I'm glad we have what we have." By which time we were both laughing with relief and smiling embarrassed smiles and refraining from looking each other in the eye.
He mentioned a time years ago when he slept with a close friend and they concluded that it was Just One Of Those Things. "It was beautiful but we just... weren't compatible," he said, which seemed an apropos label. What better way to say it? Still embarrassed at the thought that we'd actually seen each other naked, I leaned into him, buried my head behind his, kissed him on the neck behind his ear and hid there for another few seconds before resurfacing and resuming our friendship.
"It just seemed like it was hanging in the air," I said.
"It has been kind of... somehow informing some of our conversations," he agreed.
And like that, it was gone.
Lotus Monastery Day 1
Posted by: lucie
We've had our first lecture - it was a pretty basic introduction to what the course is about. There is no prostration tomorrow; just tea at 6 and meditation at 6.30. The schedule is so packed I think I'll scarcely have time to write!
--
First meditation session. It was alright - Ani Nun told us it was normal for random thoughts and memories to come up; the thing is not to grasp at them or consider them important. Think of them as little clouds floating by, she said. It was an hour-long session with a 30-second break in the middle to stretch our legs, which I think might have been a beginning-of-course luxury.
Everyone was coughing this morning; the germs are going to spread like wildfire in the dorms, where beds are about 9 inches apart. Our room is pretty luxurious. There are five of us, our beds are nicely spaced out and we have our own bathroom.
I find one of my roommates a little scary. Very no-nonsense, hardcore, tough, doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. One thing that strikes me about the more serious Buddhists here (of which she is one, having done the course before and been a practicing Buddhist for five years) is their seriousness. You don't see them smiling very often.
Most people here are practicing Buddhists already, so it's slightly intimidating to be new to all of it. This morning everyone did three prostrations together and chanted something I didn't understand and had never heard. At the end of the meditation session we turned to the back of the prayer book and chanted a prayer that a lot of people seemed to know the tune and pronunciation of.
Many course participants have been here before - some even a few times. Many of them have been on 3-month retreats. Some plan to go to the South of India after this for a Kalachakra initiation with the Dalai Lama.
--
Morning teaching notes:
- familiarizing the mind with a wholesome state
- physical posture, freedom from distractions
- single-pointedness: watching one thing and learning to withdraw from other things and distractions
- tighten awareness on the object (eg breath), focus on one thing
- simply calming the mind does not lead to long-term spiritual development. Insight and wisdom need to be developed from within that state.
- Quietness of mind is not an end in itself; within this state we prepare ourselves to deal with the challenges of everyday life again. develop insight and wisdom.
- intellectual knowledge doesn't lead to self-improvement; can lead to pride. Object of course is not to use knowledge intellectually but to use and apply it practically.
--
With the whole showering and conserving water issue, people start to smell a bit by the first official morning. I fear for the scent of day two.
Venerable Monk is an amusing teacher with a certain ease and sense of humor. I look forward to hearing more of his talks.
--
- accumulate positive karma by walking around the stupa. Imagine while light radiating from it. Turn prayer wheel clockwise. These actions purify all sentient beings.
- cleaning - positive action. especially cleaning meditation space. Sweeping: "May I sweep up the defilements in my own mind and in the minds of others." "May I remove the suffering and causes of suffering from the minds of all sentient beings."
- afflictions: mental states that are emotionally toned: hatred, anger, attachment, etc.
--
So. Yeah, man... almost everyone here - no, probably about 75%, though - has been practicing Buddhism for quite some time already. We're talking people who even live and work in Buddhist centers in their respective cities. The rest of us have a lot to learn.
Today has been an easy day as there was no discussion group and no prostrations at 5.30. We had tea at 6, meditation from 6.30-7.30, breakfast, teachings from 9-11.30, lunch, then a bunch of free time until the next lesson at 3.30. Normally we'd have discussion groups at 2, I think. The teachings will go to 5.30, then dinner, then more meditation, tea, lessons... I can't remember.
Lights out is at 10pm and we have to keep silence from then until the end of lunch the following day. We got to speak today but tomorrow we really get stuck in. Silent tea, silent meditation, silent breakfast, silent listening to lessons, silent lunch, then after eating we are allowed to chat again.
I walked around the stupa today, clockwise, twice. I've no idea how many times one is meant to 'circumambulate' it. I should've been imagining a while light radiating from it and bringing happiness to all sentient beings, but I was imagining camera angles.
Some of the Dharma stuff is a bit much for me just yet. I like the bits about training your mind and being kind, but I'm not quite so sure about past lives and next lives, or doing little rituals to accumulate good karma. I want to do rituals to remind myself to be better; to remind myself that I have a spiritual side that deserves attention. Not to avoid coming back as a mosquito.
It is so beautiful, sunny and warm here during the day. I had no idea.
--
3.30pm teaching notes
- material and matter are impermanent
- consciousness is unobstructive - the mind has a clear-light nature.
(this lecture is turning into a justification of belief in reincarnation. various proofs of past and future lives, etc.)
- scientists are our gurus. "The fact that you have not observed something, does that mean it does not exist?"
(sounds like any other religious proclamation meant to be taken purely on faith..?)
--
6pm meditation
Slowly working backwards through memory of today, yesterday, past years and ultimately birth, conception and past life
Monastery Chronicles intro
Posted by: lucie
I've been chewing on this one for a while - how to present the monastery experience? Every time I open the journals I find too many details about other people, too many names to change, too many nationalities to leave out and a couple of personal situations I'd happily share but other people might not like to stumble upon someday. It's tricky and overwhelming so I generally put it off until later, but I think I'm ready to tackle it now.
I think I'm going to have to cut a lot of color that I'd really really like to share. It was a pretty intense experience for everyone involved, and some things just aren't mine to tell you. Decisions will be made on a case by case basis from one day to the next, I suppose... Perhaps if I go scrub up past entries about the monastery I'll feel more secure, but the interweb is a crazy place. I've been shocked to see what kind of searches yield Overarching results in the past, and the truth seems to be that once you've put something in an entry, Google remembers all. So I'll clean things up a bit, but once it's out there, it's out there. (I'm still convinced Matt and other M members are reading this blog. Hi guys.)
So that's one issue. The next was a personal struggle with my negativity toward some aspects of the course, the people who ran it, the way things were done, the teachings and so forth. I've made my peace with that one on the grounds that whoever you are, you reading this, you obviously have your own mind and critical faculties. I wrote a lot of things that I may not agree with now, a lot of things I probably would, and twice as many that I haven't made up my mind about. I'm not going to qualify anything - it was what it was. This is just the blog where you get to read some random girl's journal that she left under a bed in a hotel room. We can't overthink or overedit.
Now for some logistics and a bit of background: the main teacher on the course was an Western monk. I shall refer to him as The Monk or Venerable Monk. There was also a nun who led meditation sessions, prayer and chanting session and other assorted talks. I'll call her The Nun or Ani Nun (Ani means sister). It's just easier this way. I'm changing the name of the monastery but leaving it in the Himalayas.
Names and nationalities will be changed or left out to protect the innocent, though I do fear something will be lost in the elimination of those details. Still, there were only a handful of people from each country, so it has to be done.
Damn I have a lot of names to make up.
Alright, let's get on with this.
The truth about my job
Posted by: lucie
My second week here they asked me to put my name on a story I didn't write because it was a conflict of interest for the author who actually wrote it to have done so (the subject of the story was a colleague of his). I said it seemed a bigger conflict of interest to hide the initial conflict of interest by pretending I had written the story when I hadn't. I said I wasn't comfortable. They said it wasn't a big deal. I said if it wasn't a big deal then someone else wouldn't mind putting their name on it. They backed down on that one.
Then 80% of my story assignments started to come from advertising. About 80% of my stories are for special sections and supplements, which lean toward the commercial side, so I guess that's not that uncommon (though we used to report actual stories in these sections when I worked here before). If you had, say, an education section, and sales wanted to get advertising from, say, pre-schools, you might be asked to write a story about pre-schools. Find some angle.
You shouldn't, however, be given specific companies to profile or people to interview or schools to write about. That's where it slips out of the realm of journalism and into the world of copywriting, or PR, which differs from journalism in two important ways: 1) it doesn't happen in a newsroom, and 2) it pays a lot better.
Wednesday I had a meeting with my editor and advertising wherein they handed me contact names and telephone numbers for my stories and I sat there silent, sullen and resigned. At the end of the meeting my editor said to me and the head of advertising sales, "Okay, so you guys can work together directly from now on."
It was disappointing and slightly humiliating.
So our paper seems to be striking deals with advertisers, telling them that if they buy ads, we'll do a profile of them, or run a Q&A with them. The companies save money on copywriting (they don't have to hire anyone to do it), the paper gains money on advertising, and I make the same crappy salary that journalists at this particular publication have been making for ten years. The salaries here have never gone up, despite inflation, costs of living and an average national wage easily twice what it was ten years ago.
I can't complain about the money thing - it's no surprise. I expected it. I expected a lot of shenanigans, ugly carpets, bad computers and drama, because that's how this place worked last time, and it doesn't change. But I also expected to write real stories about real people and events - not promotional items for random firms in town. And I expected to work for an editor who once inspired me - not for the advertising department.
See, there are those expectations again. Pain in the ass.
If the purpose of my return was to see whether journalism was really for me, it hasn't worked out in journalism's favor. The job I'm interviewing for on Wednesday follows on brilliantly from the work I was doing in England and would be a proper challenge. Fate seems to be moving things back in that direction.
Migraines are interesting
Posted by: lucie
Today I informed my colleagues that everything not directly in front of me was turning strangely blackish and giggled. I wondered at the fact that I could not really see my hands on the keyboard as I looked at the screen of my laptop; it was strange and very fascinating. Then the screen began to flicker, and so did everything else, and I shared this with my colleagues, who informed me that I had a migraine coming on.
But I don't get migraines, I said, or at least not more than once every few years, so it probably wasn't that, even though my head hurt. I stared at the flickering screen and attempted to quantify the blackness and decipher its patterns. I tried writing something on a piece of paper. The hand didn't look like my own but it seemed to write okay. I copied things from one piece of paper to another without purpose. What are hands actually for, anyway?
Next I turned off the lights. "I thought this might be coming," one colleague said. Lights did not agree with my brain. I sat at my desk, closed the laptop, and proceeded to slump a little lower, ball up a little further with each passing minute. My head didn't hurt that much and walking home sounded difficult, and my boss was in a meeting and I would have to get up, walk into the other office where he was having a meeting and use words to explain my situation, which may or may not (probably would) piss him off. So I sat around for another five minutes pondering the purpose of things like hands.
"You are getting smaller and smaller," another colleague finally told me, noting my balled-up form. I was instructed to speak to the boss and leave. This seemed to make sense.
"Excuse me," I said, interrupting a three-editor pow-wow, "I'm sorry, but everything that isn't directly in front of me is turning dark. I am very confused."
My boss looked up and, deadpan, said: "Oh hey - actually that's happening to us too! We were just talking about it!" Hey, that was funny - I got it. I think. He told me to go home and text him an update in the afternoon.
Walking home was perplexing. I had to buy a phone card to put credit on my pay-as-you-go phone. I asked for 250 units of credit and handed over money for 450. The man handed 200 back and I stared at it for a moment before realizing I'd overpaid. So this 200 was mine. So it should go into... my wallet. That's right. And the wallet goes in my pocket. And the phone card could go in the wallet but it's probably okay to just put it in the other pocket. Pockets are confusing. Out the door.
What did he mean about them all having the same problem? Was that why he was so nice about letting me go home? Were they all losing their peripheral vision too? Was that some editorial metaphor about their view of the news or was everyone getting a headache? Maybe there was a gas leak at the office. Maybe it hit me first. Maybe he was joking. He was probably joking. But exactly why would that be a funny thing to say? Was there a gas leak at the paper?
What would make me feel better? There must be something to make me feel better. What would make me feel better? Soup. Soup, soup soup. I can buy canned soup, a can of soup, and open the can and heat the soup and eat the soup, and it might make me feel better. There was no soup at the store. The closest thing was canned goulash. I actually bought canned goulash. I actually took it home, opened it, spooned it into a pot noting the similarity of its consistency with that of dog food, and heated it up. Then I threw it away and went to bed for three hours. Most things made sense when I woke up, but the editor's joke was still chewing on my brain.
Rebecca came over later and we danced around the flat like teenage girls on a bad sitcom, arms all flinging around over our heads, to Billy Joel's Greatest Hits. We sang along to "My Life" and argued over whether Bosom Buddies was before our time. It debuted in 1980. "I was four," I said. "It was funny!" she insisted. "Four is too young to appreciate cross-dressing humor," I complained, but she refused to back down. She couldn't believe I didn't watch Bosom Buddies.
Rebecca's pipes are frozen and her heating has conked out, so she hasn't showered in three days. She's been using the bathroom in the cafe downstairs, which is open only from 11am to 9pm. Between 9pm and 11am she can't drink any water lest she create a need for the unavailable toilet. The landlord fixed it today but she seemed changed by the experience, which she likened to living like a homeless person with a really beautiful, freezing cold flat. It's more than 10 degrees below 0 celsius around here these days. Six homeless people have died. Your face hurts when you go outside.
Becks has a strange ability to flip a switch and turn off romantic feelings. Her theory about dating friends is that unless you think they could be The One, you just don't. do. it. Save the friendship. She's pretty strict. So you Flip The Switch. Simply turn off romantic feelings. Everyone else says this is simply impossible, but Becks can do it, and I've signed up as her student. She's explaining it to me. You just turn it off. You think about how they'd screw things up, you think about the little things that would ultimately drive you crazy, you imagine losing their friendship and you get, quite frankly, a little bit smug about having enough self-control not to indulge in your feeeeeeelings, as if feelings can't be ignored or overcome by sense. You do all that and forge ahead into unambiguous friendship territory. Easy enough. We're all adults here.
For the record
Posted by: lucie
I've reread every entry including the word 'Tom' and I sound pathetic. Hey, if anyone out there who reads this blog ever notices me sounding pathetic over a guy, I'll love you for commenting as much. Seriously, you'd think I might take it the wrong way, but you could do me no bigger favor. Just put 'dear lucie, no offense, but you sound pathetic. just trying to help out.'
Interview this morning went well and they're putting me forward for a position that would pay more than DOUBLE what this one pays, plus benefits and perks. Real interview with the company next week if all goes well. The job would be a challenge, which is great as I seem to be in need of one. Left to my own devices, I will overthink situations that don't bear more than five minutes' thought.
Going out tonight with 'the boys.' They have a sacred Wednesday night thing where they watch football (British) and talk about manly things, I guess. The footy schedule has shifted so it's turned into a plain guy night. No girlfriends allowed. For some reason I've been invited to participate, though there is an implicit understanding that I will not be invited back if I talk about my feelings or menstrual cycle or opinions on gender roles.
I count two of the ex's friends, both of which will be in attendance, who I sense would like to do more than drink beer with me. (A girl just knows - especially when she's not interested.) One is very sweet but far too shy to ever ever try anything; the other is a pig who treats women pretty despicably. Last week he explained that he had overlapped his last two girlfriends - he was living with one and started seeing the other, then kicked the first one out and had the second move in.
"Did they know about each other?" I asked. Yes, he said. "And they were okay with it?" I queried. "Well they didn't really have much of a choice," he quipped arrogantly. I asked whether they had exceptionally low self-esteem. It went over his head. He's very rich, so he can go through girlfriends like Kleenex.
This week he emailed saying he and the new girlfriend had split up. Not his decision, I suspect, as he'd given no indication that he was thinking about kicking her to the curb (hell, he didn't even have another one lined up!). And he emailed again and again and again. Ah, if only I liked assholes with lots of money who talked about their money all the time.
Let's talk about feelings
Posted by: lucie
Tom has been seeing a shrink for months. The highly amusing thing about this - and he'll tell you the same - is that the shrink doesn't think Tom needs to see him. "You're a very likeable guy," says the shrink. "I'd have a beer with you." Tom asks to make appointments and the shrink sometimes says he can't fit him in for a few weeks. A ruse, one suspects, to keep him out of the office for a bit longer.
So Tom pays to go in there and ramble on about his feelings, I guess, and the shrink humors him by delivering standard lines such as "How did you feel about that?" and "Why do you think that is?" and "Mm hmm."
There's nothing wrong with the boy. Happy childhood and all that. Must make a dead boring patient. It's as if he wants to need a shrink, which is... weird. "I've never met anybody," I started the other night, before pausing and mumbling that I needed to think about this for a moment and confirm that it was true - "I've never met anybody who is so self-aware yet insists on pretending so hard that he isn't."
(I thought that was a terribly interesting thing for me to say. In fact, I think I'm getting to rather like the sound of my own voice lately, in a "Hey, these Eastern European girls might look like models, cook and clean for you, give you blowjobs whenever you want and generally be submissive and make you feel smart and big, but I'm really very clever!" kind of way. Living in a city of trophy girlfriends, a sista has to keep her self-esteem intact with whatever methods work.)
If you had everything you needed to be happy (we all do, of course, but some of us more than others, and besides a general lack of career focus he is certainly doing better than most in the life stakes), why would you want to pretend there was something wrong with you?
Expectations
Posted by: lucie
Expectations are bad. It's good to remind oneself of that every once in a while.
The job isn't what it used to be. A lot of what I end up writing is really advertorial. I control the copy and write what I want, but oftentimes the story topics or even interviewees are selected by the advertising department. It's not exactly unethical; just boring.
Tom and I stayed out until 2:30 on Sunday night, and I kept repeating (and repeating and repeating) "Let's quit our jobs! Let's not go to work tomorrow!" This was met with somewhat less enthusiasm than I was after, but he may have been questioning my sincerity on the grounds that there were a few drinks involved. Too many, in fact - I counted them in the morning, then sent him email saying that my bed must be magical, because I had x of this and x of that and only 5.5 hours of sleep but felt amazing. "No, you're magical," he replied, which seems more than friendly, but don't let's lose our heads - he's still seeing someone else.
Anyway, you shouldn't be bored of your job after just three weeks. It's not that mine is difficult or particularly stressful; it's just uninspiring.
Tomorrow I have an interview, thanks to the knee-jerk "I don't need this shit" reaction to my boss's attitude last week. We had a fresh start Monday morning, as if nothing had ever happened, so I almost feel a bit guilty. Almost but not quite. I could do this other job in my sleep and see a 40% salary increase or thereabouts. It's likely nothing will come of it (I'm only interviewing with the recruiter at the moment), but you have to give things a chance.
It's a funny thing when you're accepted into grad school; in some ways it seems that nothing you do in the interim actually matters - like you're on free time and all you have to do is get by. Which is exactly how it feels to live as an expat in Eastern Europe anyway. It's nice to be suited to your environment.
Yes I love Tom, yes he probably loves me, yes he has pulled himself together since we last met, but some things are best left alone. Anyway, if he liked me enough he'd get himself single. There will be no overlapping.
non-dating update
Posted by: lucie
Tom is seeing someone, but managed to tell me that he thinks they are approaching 'The Talk,' wherein, of course, they decide whether they're exclusive or not... and if they aren't, which he doesn't want to be, they probably finish it, because she's got a 6 year old son. "What about you?" he then asked. "Have you met anyone here?"
Here? Here? That threw off my triple whammy plan! So I had to reframe the question. I told him about the Buddhist perfect date boy, and how I got all worked up over it just after deciding that I wasn't going to get all worked up over any boys and convinced myself that he was everything I could ever want etc etc when obviously there was very little chance of that being the truth, thus proving to myself exactly the point of what I had decided not to do. "That's love right there, isn't it," he said. "All projection," which led beautifully into my not dating anyone plan. If something developed naturally, I said, I'd probably roll with it, but I was making a point of being unconcerned. I left out the ex's friend, but I think a double whammy was enough.
We stayed out until 2:30. There was this funny sort of "Hey, this is kind of like, this could be a date if we were dating, and it's pretty fun and easy, and we could date," vibe, but we seem to be settling back into our friendship. It might actually be fun to have a friendship with that kind of sexual tension. Probably more fun than dating.
Steak Classes
Posted by: lucie
The aforementioned homo-erotically cowboy-themed steak restaurant has a very odd cross-promotion going with my gym, for reasons I can't even begin to imagine. "Join a steak class and get a free steak!" scream ridiculous homo-erotic cowboy-themed restaurant promotion posters around the gym, featuring a very gay urban cowboy and a voluptuous cowgirl with big pink lips and pink chaps who looks like she may actually have been a cowboy at one point in time.
No explanation is offered as to what makes the usual aerobic classes "steak classes." No one put much thought into this campaign. All they have to tie it together is this: when you go into, say, step class, the instructor is at the front of the room in a glittery pink cowboy hat (for about 30 seconds), and she exclaims "Welcome to steak class!" Then at the end you get a voucher for a free steak.
Whatever gets people to visit the new joint, I guess.
Today I had a confrontation with my boss. Or my boss confronted me, I should say. Mostly it was about the fact that I keep shutting the door next to my desk. I shut it because it's noisy out there in the crazy bustling office, we all being enterprising young reporters busy with our work and/or overflowing with witty commentary on current events. Unfortunately my boss - editor - is an overworked man with about twenty jobs and in the past two years seems to have suffered a complete sense of humor failure. Being an intensely tightly wound man who happens to prefer the door open (easy for him because he works around the corner, where it is quiet), he takes my closing of said door as a personal attack. I guess. Or that's how it seemed when he said today "Um, I need to talk to you for a couple of minutes," led me into a meeting room, closed the door, and barked, "Okay, are you the one who keeps closing the door?!"
It was very strange to have this man, on whose exclusive (read: about two people) good list I once posessed a coveted spot, freaking out at me the way I guess he's always done with everyone else. And freaking out over nothing - clearly just venting some spleen in my direction.
It inspired a "hang on a second, we get paid absolute pittance here and now my boss is going to be a jerk? I don't need this," moment, wherein I sent my CV off for another job (not journalism) that would pay a lot better and cause me half the stress.
But by the end of the day I had it back in perspective: He's actually a fairly sad man who overworks himself into stress coma and has no idea there's life outside this tiny little paper in Eastern Europe, which is strange and sad, and I can relate to it because part of me wants to be that intense and obsessive too, but it's never made me any happier than it's making him, and in fact I've probably (definitely) staged some weird and pointless confrontations with people just as he did today, so... it's not to be taken personally.
That said, I heard back about the job, answered further questions, and will take the interview if I'm invited. Because a girl has to keep her options open.
One interesting thing about being back here: I've seen a lot of old guy friends who mostly hung out with my ex. They've all been warm, patently unsurprised to hear we broke up, and completely uninterested as to whether we're still in touch or what he's up to. I think one of them might be interested in more than friendship. It's difficult to tell as he's painfully stereotypically British and ultrapolite.
Speaking of boys, in whom I am not romantically interested, Tom is back in town. "Give me a ring when you're over the jet lag," I emailed him, and he did - 9 days after he got back. I swear, if ever it was anything less than completely obvious that this is an undateable man, I think it's fair to say we have our answer now, ladies and gentlemen. We're hanging out on Sunday. It's not going to be weird. I'm going to tell him about how I fell in love with the Buddhist perfect date boy, then about the ex's old friend I've seen three times in a week, and for my third strike I'll tell him my no men resolution. Then we'll drink beer. It'll be great.
He's Just Not That Into You
Posted by: lucie
Okay, confession time - I don't know quite why I downloaded this audio book, except that I occasionally trawl through audiobook listings and grab whatever looks interesting, but... yeah, few excuses. I'll just admit it. I listened to "He's Just Not That Into You." I'd heard about it, as I'd heard about other obnoxious books in that category over the years - 'The Rules' etc - and thought what the hell? Let's see what kind of madness they're feeding women these days.
It was GOOD. I LIKED it. Oh, not all of it. Not the parts where they say you absolutely can't call him or ask him out first, because if you have to call him first he's obviously not that into you... but for the most part, this is some funny, inoffensive stuff. I don't know if it comes across as humorous when you actually read the book, but listening to the authors reading is fun. No, it seriously is. You could have your girls over to drink wine and giggle along. You could make a whole night of it.
It takes some of the fun out of guy-analyzing conversations, of course, wherein we come up with excuses and explanations for all of their less-than-optimum behavior. In fact, if you really buy into this whole philosophy, it could take tons of fun out of the whole dating game - mostly because the second someone fails to call on time or treat you like a princess, you have to boil it down to him not liking you enough and stop holding your breath. Holding your breath is half the FUN, isn't it? I mean, as long as you're doing it FOR fun, not because you desperately want to marry the guy? Maybe that's a key point. If you're husband-hunting in earnest, probably nothing is funny anymore.
Anyway, it's short, it's funny, the authors are comical readers and it might surprise you. That said, NOTE TO SARAH'S MOM: this is not an appropriate gift for your daughter.
Cowgirls
Posted by: lucie
All you can really do when you walk into the supposedly high-fallutin' opening party of a homo-erotically cowboy-themed restaurant - filled to the eaves with silicone ladies and "but let's talk about me" businessmen - is provide the best counterpoint possible, take advantage of the free booze and talk the boys into giving up their cowboy hats.
The first conversation we overheard as we walked in was some ponce explaining, hand on collar, that his shirt was from Paul Smith. "Versace," said his mate, indicating his own shirt.
I opened my eyes at the sister nearest. "Yeah, this is pretty bad," she agreed. It must have been the free whiskey and cokes that turned it around.
Highlights of the evening:
Asking the restaurant owner - who already has 4 or 5 of the most successful joints in this city - if this particular venture was just an excuse to wear a cowboy hat (as he was). "Uh," he replied flatly, "I think I have earned the freedom by now to wear whatever I want."
Having our pictures taken kneeling in front of the stage, on which two hired hoochies were dancing shamelessly.
Rebecca screaming like an eight-year-old girl, in a burst of inspiration after we talked three men out of their cowboy hats, "Let'sgointothebathroomandLOOKatourselves!"
Repeatedly scaring local girls in the bathroom with our volume.One looked at us incredulously and claimed never to have heard a sound quite like us before.
Stealing a sherrif's badge from a waiter named 'Pepe.'
Stealing a hat from a gurning e-boy, running with it, and throwing said hat between a team of 8 girls determined to hang onto it for dear life.
Watching aforementioned restaurant owner take said e-boy literally by the ear and escort him out of the party for following one of our posse into the girls' room (and looking generally overdrugged and disgusting).
Leaving.
The romance of journalism
Posted by: lucie
Today I tried to interview some 18-month-olds. You know what? It didn't work out so well. As apparently every woman on the planet knows, 18 month olds can only say a few words.
No, I knew that, but how big is an 18 month old? I thought these particular little specimens were 2 or 3. "Ask them what they like most about coming here!" I requested of the translator, who responded with a quizzical glance before attempting it nonetheless. The little munchkins just stared back, resting their big puppy gazes on us and occasionally banging their finger cymbals or wood blocks. I felt a bit of an idiot journalist, but even more of an idiot woman. "There isn't a woman on the planet who doesn't know anything about kids," my editor insisted, but I'd clearly just proved him wrong.
Since I started work last week I've knocked out one show-preview story about a hip hop mogul, spent a day at the airport interviewing architects and project management people about developments there, done a Q&A with a real estate expert (and fronted like I knew all about the real estate market) and started on this 'pre-kindergarten' story. Tonight I'm interviewing some Scottish guys - over drinks - about Burns Night (every year they celebrate the birth of poet Robert Burns, I guess, by eating haggis, drinking whiskey, wearing kilts and otherwise acting stereotypically Scottish).
I've already had to remind myself once that a cute PR boy was only being charming because it's his job to charm me. He probably has a girlfriend anyway, and probably doesn't help her on with her coat because he isn't paid to be nice to her, and besides that, I'm not interested in boys.
Speaking of which, Tom is back in town. He got back yesterday. I told him to give me a ring when the jet lag wears off. We're supposed to 'grab a bite or something,' which I don't think is the same thing as 'go out to dinner' or anything remotely date-like. You know what? I don't care either way. And don't tell me I sound like I'm trying to convince myself.
Personal drivel
Posted by: lucie
It's going to be hard to keep the blog up when I'm actually getting paid to write - and not just write, but write a lot, and fast - all through the week. Whereas I needed some outlet for expression before, even if it was just to reveal inane details of my meaningless little provincial English life, the words are now being wrung out of me at an alarming rate, under intense (to me, anyway) pressure, more than five days a week (meaning I'm taking work home on the weekends already, and it's my first weekend).
The truth is I may never get around to recounting that monastery business. Or it might have to wait ten years, like the rehab thing. Not that it was that bad. It wasn't at all.
The upshot of my new schedule is that I'm probably only going to be able to kick out directionless stream-of-consciousness blather which may or may not be at all interesting to anybody out there. I don't have enough time to properly form thoughts.
I'm listening to an album on which a friend of mine played drums with this band that decided to switch from drum machines to live drummer, then had one hit (top 20ish) with the help of said friend, then ditched him for a return to the drum machine before making their third album. They're singing about someone letting them change lanes while they were driving in their car. Not a HUGE hit, really, so you probably won't remember it. There was a video - they drove around in a convertible playing their instruments and he had his drums in the backseat.
Being back in journalism is scary. Let me tell you something that you probably already know if you know any journalists: this is an incredibly difficult job to do well, and the gratitude and pay are miniscule to none. It still blows my mind that journalism is, in essence, a blue collar job. A craft. Because you have to be pretty goddamn sharp to be good at it. Plus the stress is high, the deadlines are non-negotiable, and you generally feel like everyone else has more talent and/or gets more enjoyment out of their work and/or does it more naturally and organically than you. There's a reason journalists have a reputation for being alcoholics. It took me at least two beers to unwind after a nasty culture story to a tight deadline on Friday. I turned it in on time but was genuinely embarrassed to give it to my editor. I hated it. One of my colleagues, who has a degree in magazine journalism from an esteemed university in the States and is immensely talented, said she feels like that with every story she writes. We wondered aloud whether it's actually worth trying to get paid to do something you love when you feel so inadequate as to get minimal enjoyment out of the actual doing.
It probably gets better. We're both pretty young, journalistically speaking.
Anyway, I'm still committed to the no boys rule, but in the back of my head there's this affection for Tom, who returns to town this week. I don't want anything to happen with him, mind, but I wouldn't necessarily ban him. That's because I happen to already love him as a friend. Everyone else is still banned.
Dear God, what was up with the Buddhist Perfect Date Boy? It wasn't actually a date, though it did ostensibly evolve into one - I'm pretty sure I wasn't crazy... but whatever. It just goes to show how dumb you can get when you imagine someone to be whatever it is you want to imagine them to be. Brief chats in a monastery and one night out to dinner do not true understanding make. He's a good guy, but I think it's safe to assume we saw him at his best, don't you? I mean, he'd just spent two months meditating in a monastery. And anyway, who would be dumb enough to develop a big crush on someone who is all enraptured with the Buddha and has just decided not to date for a year? I mean actually JUST decided, in the past few days. Sure, someone will change his mind before the year is up, but not in the first week. And anyway, he lives on a different continent. And you guys, we didn't even know him. Let's pull ourselves together.
Yeah, that whole thing was just dumb. It's almost as if the whole situation existed merely to serve as an illustration of why I'd more or less decided, just that morning, to quit this whole 'crushes as entertainment about as stimulating as bad reality tv' thing. But it was also effective. It served as Tom detox, which I think my mind needed, and gave me something more fun than 'new job, new city, need to find a home' to think about. It did some good. Still, one would prefer to be capable of facing situations directly rather than distracting oneself with crushy little fantasies.
Hence the ban. This is a self-improvement move. See how that works?
Here is something that I thought Ritchey could have written when I read it, and I mean that with the utmost respect both to our girl and the actual author.
There's a meditation center around the corner from where I live - it's really quite astounding luck. I went last Tuesday and meditated with the group - all locals, but they went out of their way to speak English just for me, which made me feel ingratiated but kind of awkward as they were clearly not as comfortable speaking it as they would be with their mother tongue. In typical Eastern European style, after two hours of vipassana meditation (which pretty much just focuses on breathing and clear-mindedness), they invited me to the pub. I'll definitely go back.
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televized" is great indeed but everything else I've ever heard by Gil Scott-Heron is cheeseball. If he ever did anything else approaching the coolness of TRWNBT, can someone please let me know? I can't stand another minute of this flutey soul. I try to listen to him from time to time, but it always ends up like this. Flute overload. No me gusta flutes en mi funk.
Wheel of Life Thangka
Posted by: lucie
Back to Eastern Europe
Posted by: lucie
Bit apprehensive about going back to my old job tomorrow as I was completely faking it the first time around and now haven't done it in two years. Journalism, that is. Luckily I never lied about this, so my editor should know what he's dealing with and still, for better or worse, seems pleased to have me back. I'm trying to think he must have based this on some past experience or evidence, so things should work out. I hope he doesn't expect me to hit the ground completely running. Speed-walking, maybe. Just not jogging quite yet.
Having a home again is quite the novelty. I can cook, wander around in bathrobe and slippers or even kick back in my underwear if I want. That's not typically my habit, but after three months the freedom is worth savoring. And moving to a city in which you've lived before, in which you already have a job and friends, is luxurious. You get all the 'clean slate' stuff with none of the loneliness. Clean slate except Tom, of course, who arrives back from North America in a week or so, and whose mind contains, about our relationship, meaning friendship or otherwise, God only knows what. But that's cool. I'm of the mind it's going nowhere, which is a good state.
The living situation is perfect. My flat is furnished but has no tv (check), is above a cute little teashop with wireless Internet (check), is very near the center (check) but far enough to be quiet (check), walking distance of work (15min walk, check), the gym (20min walk, check), and even a meditation center (literally right around the corner, check check check), and a 10min walk from an English-language bookstore/cafe. It's brilliant.
This American Life has continued to do its thing while I've been away, giving me many back-episodes with which to fill my TV-less evenings. I love you, Ira Glass. Damn you for marrying that girl. Happy New Year anyway.
One of these days I'll get around to sharing the monastery experience, though part of me believes it's impossible to explain or that perhaps, in some way, it wouldn't be fair to put forth my experience as some kind of truth. What characterized the whole thing most was the fact that everyone in attendance had an entirely different experience. I'm wary of a couple things re: my journals: 1) negativity (though it tends not to be as bad as I imagine when I look back on it - generally I sound reasonable and not mean or too angry) and 2) stuff about other people. I'm not sure how to relate the experience without talking about other people's experiences, and I'm not sure I have the right to write about these people's experiences, and my relationships with them, whilst maintaining their privacy and protecting their feelings in case anyone should stumble upon my accounts of things by way of googling, etc etc... so there's still much to consider.
Anyway, for the here and now, this is the agenda:
Meditate
Go to gym
Write articles about things
Learn math (in preparation for MBA)
Become better person
Avoid romantic involvements, or at least obsessing over them
Have friends visit
...and whatever else comes up.
Swyambhunath, Nepal (The Monkey Temple)
Posted by: lucie
Learn English Here
Posted by: lucie
