Sri Lanka > Malaysia. Transitions.

Colombo, Sri Lanka 9.6.10


Back at the Colombo House, same big white room, same big windows, leafy green garden, hot and humid equatorial air, same emptiness, despite assurances that they are always "fully booked," as about one month ago when I arrived in a sleep deprived daze, stumbled out of the airport in the early morning haze, took an empty train and a tuk tuk, and collapsed on the same bed, and slept away my African weariness. The curtain lifted as I moved into the country the next day, moved up into the beautiful mountains, started to experience the beauty all around. Now, there is no weariness. Only happiness at having the opportunity to spend a month of my life in such a precious land. Warmth of all kinds; the chilis burning my lips as I dig into a delicious lunchtime vegetarian curry dish; the blazing sun scorching the sands buffeting the deep blue seas; the warmth of the people, the constant accompaniment. Pains and hardships as well-the road is hard in this small land; the buses and trains are packed and humid; the drivers madmen. But the hardships are far overshadowed, and I leave with a big space in my heart for this Indian Ocean island. I leave steadied, emboldened, and comfortable for what lies ahead...



Colombo to Malaysia 9.7.10

An early morning wakeup, darkness outside the big colonial windows, crickets sounding their eternal cries, the fan stirring the barely cooled predawn air; I gather my bags, two of them, large but mobile, all of my "possessions" in this world right now, and walk down the winding steps to the tuk tuk waiting in the darkness. We had agreed on 5am, but here he is, 445am and growing impatient, backed carefully into the driveway in a manner that must have taken a bit of time. The tiny engine fires, and like that, I am gone. Buzzing through the darkened Colombo streets, grand colonial buildings like white ghosts superimposed on the developing world facade of South Asia; gnarled steel Tata buses already plying their routes; the Muezzin calling the faithful, still standing on the street corners, to prayer. I sit behind the grey haired driver, watching him ply his trade with a gentle elegance, the barely audible horn fending off the lurking steel monster of the road. We move out of city limits, out of Sri Lanka, into another adventure, another unfolding mystery.



Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia 9.7.10

The rushing, crushing, modern, developed world; its busyness, its tightly ordered manic energy, functioning traffic lights, clean streets, neon signs advertising anything and everything to an all-too-willing hyper consumer culture; I am back in the "Developed World" it seems, ultra modern Asia of the 21st century and the Western world's borders are a blur of Hypermarkets, glitzy shopping malls, and Mercedes Benzes at every corner. It unsettles me, after months in very different places; months spent without the self-encapsulated bubbles of consumerism where the eyes of strangers glow only in LCD screens, not in inviting smiles. Too easy for me; too fast; too hushed for the soul. I miss the edge of soldiers at checkpoints, of buses screaming their horns for no reason, of broken pavement that threatens to eat your legs whole with a misstep, of strangers eyes, the warmth and smiles seem to multiply when the wealth is divided, this seems to be the rule of the road...soon, I will be back, Nepal beckons.....

"To practice and understand that Dharma is a rare and precious thing. Few people in the world are presented with this opportunity. Most people are circling around, driven by ignorance and desire, unaware of the possibility of getting rid of this wheel of samsara, the wheel of greed and hatred." -J. Goldstein

lanka......

9.2.10 Mirissa, Sri Lanka

This day marks two months since leaving home, two months since i stepped wearily, with some apprehension, into the terminal at JFK airport, mentally disentangling from the busyness of life in the West, disentangling from the familiar, stepping into the well known mystery of exploration, the wonderful mystery of life unfolding. Two months. Three continents. Five countries. New experience unfolding every day; waking up with the sun on my face, the waves rolling into shore in the distance; waking to the crickets of the early morning African bush; waking to the mellow rain of the mountains; and waking to the muzzin's call to prayer in the ancient Swahili settlements of the African coast. So many more mornings yet to come, to open my eyes more to the beauty of this world. I smile in anticipation of the future.

9.3.10 Mirissa

We can so easily distract ourselves into oblivion in this life; time spent without external stimulation, televisions, radios, cafe talking, phone talking, work, commuting; this is somehow seen as "wasted" time. How often do we simply sit and watch our own minds, the endless parade of thoughts marching through...travel, retreat, allow for a break, not just from the physical routines of our lives, but from the mental routines that come to define us. Stopping. Radically changing. Having the time in the day to reflect. Balm for the soul.
The fisherman in front of me on this early morning, sitting, drinking my coffee, just me, the plastic table and plastic chair, a simple fence and the sand, does not cast his small wooden boat into the rolling waves coming ashore, for he would surely be swamped; he casts just beyond their reach, in the calm, deep blue sea.

"Practice heroically. Do not accumulate unnecessary possessions. Don't give up. Still your mind. End wrong perceptions. Concentrate and do not run after objects of the senses. Be determined to not let your days and months pass by wastefully." -Zen Master Guishan