Vipassana: Knowledge is ego, wisdom is Being.

I arrive at Mumbai airport at dusk and to my relief, there was a pre-paid taxi counter by the terminal exit. I hand over 650 rupees to the attractive Indian lady and she hands me a taxi voucher. "Go out, turn left. Give this to the security man." she says. "Security man. Great." I respond. I walk out, turn left, and find a bunch of guys in normal wear blocking my path to what looks to me like a taxi stand. One of them aggressively walks up to me and looks in a rush. As he talks he continuously shifts his weight onto the other foot and nervously looks behind his shoulders. Directly above his acquaintances is a large sign that reads: "BEWARE OF TOUTS."

Tout: "Taxi? You want taxi? Where you going?"
Me: "I've got a prepaid taxi voucher"
Tout: "I'm taxi driver. Where you want to go?"
Me: "I'm looking for a security man"
Tout: "I'm taxi. Here taxi. Where you going my friend?"
Me: I stop walking and hold up my chit to try to read it. Really I'm trying to slow my physiology down to get present to what is really going on. "I want to go to the Pagoda. Next to Esselworld."
Tout: "It's very late my friend, where you going after? Where you staying?"
Me irrately: "I'm staying at the pagoda!"

I think by this time I've slowed our conversation down to such a slow pace that he feels very uncomfortable. He steps out of the way and ushers me with his hands toward the taxi stand I was headed to in the first place. I walk off satisfied that I had handled that with composure, but felt disgruntled at the fact that I had to stop in the first place. For the next 2 hours I find my self in a tiny four-wheeler once again being hurled through Mumbai chaos. This place is just insane! 2 hours of aggressive jostling for space on tarmac, dusty pong streaming in through the open windows, and incessant honking coming from every direction. All this for the equivalent of SGD$18??

In the darkness a golden luminous dome appears surreally over distant trees. The pagoda! Wow what a sight! I never would have had the chance to see it in all its nocturnal grandiosity.

 I sit for 5 days in silent meditation with about 120 other meditators. Me, and another lone white guy In a sea of black. The complex and the grounds, unsurprisingly, are not in impressive shape. Clean though. As directed by the teacher, I sit in Ana Panna for the first 3 and 1/2 days. Wholly focusing my attention on the touch of the breath on the small triangular area below the nostrils and the top of the lip. The smaller the area of focus with sustained attention, the more the mind becomes sharpened.  For 3 days it is a battle for my mind. Many times I find myself lost in thought, imagination, fantasy. I bring it back to the triangular area, undaunted, but still surprised by how long sometimes it takes for me to notice that my mind has wandered. "Occupy Your Mind" I posted on Facebook recently had an accompanying image of a clenched fist inside of the side-profile of a head outline ( in obvious correspondence to the ongoing Occupy Wall Street Movement), came to mind.

During the day, My practice is constantly interrupted by construction on the roof of the building. 2 guys hammering away at some floorboards and an electric saw in the distance buzzing away with absolute disregard to the meditation going on. And then on Christmas eve(and day), booming bassy techno music for a party in the adjacent pagoda infiltrated my room. There was also a noisy large black crow that never failed to perch itself closeby in the afternoons, obviously scanning the drains for whatever remnants from lunch it could find. Frustratingly, that afternoon, I gave up trying to meditate tried to get some sleep.

The mornings and the evenings were the best times. I soon found that I could go deeper, easier. On day 3, lying in bed face up, familiar sensations of heaviness and movement fill my head and my eyelids. These sensations focus my awareness on the phenomena taking place in the darkness within. At first I squint, as if it is my eyeballs that are doing the seeing. Then it becomes clear that this phenomena comes from a deeper process. A vast array of images and patterns fill my vision, reminding of the one time I had experimented with LSD. This was different, however, "cleaner", as I am completely conscious and "sober". It is very real, almost tangible. Explaining the reality of this phenomenal experience to anyone who has not him/herself would be futile. Remembering the teachers instructions, I do not get carried away with what I'm experiencing (that is, feeling no pleasure or aversion) and remain aware of the breathe and sensations. The brain is starting penetrate deeper realities.

Unfortunately this is about as far as I go. And as the other meditators get initiated into the real work of Vipassana on day 4, I am instructed to break my silence and only meditate during the 3 group seatings interspersed throughout the day. This is to prepare my mind for coming back into the " real world".

The work of vipassana is to purify the mind. Now, through the work of ana pana (concentration), the mind is sensitive enough to reach to the deeper unconscious processes of the mind. Here the real work of dislodging all the accumulated impurities the mind has gathered by bringing it to the surface. You "see" these impurities in the form of "sankaras": Gross, unpleasant sensations felt anywhere throughout the body,. Or, pleasant, subtle sensations of free flow vibrations. Either or, one is not to react, but merely watch with equanimity. By observing it, with the understanding of impermanence, it eventually dissipates. Our work is to disperse all our accumulated sankaras of anger, hate, lust, etcetera. The more we are free of this, the more we feel liberated, and the happier we will be.

Personally, I feel this has single-handedly transformed (and continues to) my life since I first discovered it 5-ish years ago. Psychology, philosophy, religious antics, scripture, and "New age" fads in my experience and understanding are all just impotent methods and by people who are lost themselves, frantically trying to find their own way out of life's misery and mysteriousness.

Try it for yourself, i'd love to know what you think.

Osho's Dynamic meditation

Our group congregated at 9am this morning for Dynamic meditation. Apparently this one was more 'powerful' relative to Kundalini a few days ago. There were Feelings of apprehension mixed with unusual confidence that I attributed to having experienced Alan's tantric meditations of yesteryear. If I could get fully present into being an out-of-control wild "animal" for 30 minutes, naked, and in a hall full of other wild, naked people, I could do ANYTHING. An experience like that would certainly evoke a unusual confidence.

Led by music, the first phase of meditation consisted of 10-15 minutes of vigorous breathing through the nostrils, emphasising the exhale. The tissues that were provided prior gave me a pretty accurate indication of exactly how vigorous. Standing eyes closed and using our entire body, we start to  use every centimetre of muscle in our arms, torso, hips, squeezing out every ounce of air from within the body. It didn't take me long to discover how quickly it took to exhaust myself and the rigorous exhales left me dry throated and gasping for air.

Phase two commenced with an abrupt 'gong' from the track and the "pffff"ing sounds from tired bodies and overworked nasal cavities progressed into screaming, yelling and wailing at the top of our lungs. I found my hands progressively flailing about me like a chained animal frantically trying to get free from its shackles, and I jump at the opportunity to "throw away" all negativity that my mind had accumulated up to that point. I discovered anger, rage, feelings of injustice done towards me, and all other kinds of ambiguous mental garbage. Instinctively scooping up it all up from my being with my arms and heaving it away as vigorously and passionately as I could, over and over and over again, yelling at the top of my lungs. The hunger of wanting to be 'free' was never as apparently as I felt in the moment. Once again my face contorted and eyes welled up as I curiously witnessed the happenings of this body. For a few seconds my body was engulfed with overwhelming emotion and my rage was replaced with loud and profuse crying - more of a cleansing, rather than a despairing kind. I also noticed myself noticing this and that I was very much curiously unattached to this spontaneous manifestation of the body.

Another gong goes off and we start jumping on the spot, with our arms straight up in the air, expounding the question "WHO?", in half-expectation that the answer would come from somewhere within us. I found this the most unbearable of all and my legs and shoulders soon started to stiffen and grow numb from the weight of my body. I persevere and wonder how on earth the less physically capable among us are managing to do this for so long.

"STOP!" followed by silence from the speakers propels the group abruptly into the next phase of the meditation: Stop whatever you are doing and freeze in place. I land with my weight distributed evenly over both feet and my arms are comfortably bent below my shoulders. Serendipitously, I had read about this Gurdjieff exercise just the night before (In Search Of The Miraculous) and recall the 'seriousness' that was originally entailed in performing it. Students under Gurdjieff who were committed to his formulations of self-study were required to freeze in whatever position they were in when they heard the command "STOP" by another member/leader of the group. A side-proponent of this exercise was also to test the mental fortitude of the student and if he could not execute this seemingly unharmful exercise in its entirety, would prove to be unworthy and incapable of attaining any serious 'results' whatsoever. I read that one student had picked up a glass of hot tea when the command was sounded and he stayed in that position for many minutes. His fingers was severely blistered afterwards for a very long time. I, on the other hand, was hardly in any sort of compromising situation, and my only anxiety was how I would look if my accumulating saliva were to ooze from the corner of my lips if I didn't do anything to stop it.., and then I gulped!

In these many moments of suspended animation, I did notice, strangely enough, how 'I' am completely ruled by this body. My "gulp" was a utter reaction, an action completely independent of what 'I' wanted to do. 'I' in all my feeble intent, did not want to swallow, but the body swallowed anyway. I also noticed what Gurdjieff had intended for us to experience: to witness the "3 centers" that make up our "selves." The Thinking center (how my mind is constantly trying to analyse), the Emotional center (when I started to tear up), the Moving center (gulping, and how the body constantly wants to move into a position that is most comfortable). Anyway, I digress. 

Finally, phase 5. In typical Osho fashion, melodious smooth music fills the room. We come out of our silent witnessing and begin to sway and dance in celebration. The 'work' is done and now it's time to come back joyfully into the world. I like how Osho thinks!

Dynamic meditation had me experience my body and its inner workings in a variety of ways: Breath, chaos, jumping, statue-like stillness and dance. Witnessing multifarious ways of movement strengthens the 'I', the 'witness', the 'observer' - What we really are.. And in that realisation of our essence lies our freedom.

Final days in Goa.

This morning Bayshan came in early to prepare me a big breakfast. Scrambled eggs on toast, a small variety of local bread, coffee, juice, a bowl of freshly cut papaya and a local delicacy specially requested from Atul, the landlord. A couple of days back we went out for a leisurely bicycle ride around Siolim and ended our trek at a local coffee shop by the river where we had this particular dessert made out of ghee and milk. Fantastic!

I've got 5 days and 4 nights left in Goa and I'm staying in a quaint hut by the beach not 2 minutes from Raso Vai. Very much simpler alternative in accommodation but now i will have the beach to run in the morning. My original plan of cardio training for the Urbanatholon in February is thwarted by a lack of access to any running tracks whatsoever. The roads are too narrow, noisy and chaotic. I had done a couple of weights sessions at the local gym with Ritesh and Pascal when I first arrived, but It didn't take me long to grow tired of tackling the language barrier with guys who were not accustomed to more complex movements like the deadlift and clean and jerk. I did not want to do another workout consisting of bench presses and bicep curls (i had not once seen anybody in that gym do a lower body exercise). Was certainly a worthwhile experience however, and the familiar observation of testosterone-fuelled swagger and excessive mirror gazing left me feeling right at home.

17 days of repetitive massage sequences is taking its toll. There are so many to remember, and it is not easy to stay present during 1.5 to 2 hour massage. There are 8 in this class and practicing with a different body everyday is proving to be invaluable but challenging. I've booked myself with a session with Urja herself which I think will end my 'formal education' quite nicely. I have already grown to love this practice even though right now I could spew if I had to give another massage.

Kundalini meditation.

Since landing in India, I've never been able to recall in an instant what day it is, and in mid-cognition trying to figure it out i catch myself, bringing me back into the present. I don't need to know what day it is, and in a moment of clarity, glimpse how momentary this life would be outside of the illusion of time. 

Urja suggested we start half-an-hour early today to do Kundalini meditation. I've never done it before, and was keen to find out. With accompanying music, we started with 15 minutes of shaking - to awaken our energies from the "sex centre." I found this rather amusing as i began to shake up and down imagining where exactly my "sex centre" was.

Shaking shaking shaking, I find myself instinctively opening my eyelids to see how everybody is shaking: "Hmm she's swaying so much it looks like she's dancing. Isn't dancing not until the next phase of the meditation?" I catch myself thinking, and take a deep breathe, bringing my full attention to the sensation of my rib cage expanding, contracting.

Shaking shaking shaking. "I must look like such a dork." Catch myself again. There is just this body moving vigorously almost seemingly without my effort.

Shaking shaking shaking. "How the heck am I going to dance for the next 15 minutes??" 

The music metamorphosises into a more fluid tempo and I feel my body effortlessly soften to reiterate the melody. For moments I am fully present to all the intricately movements that this body is providing me with. No judgements, no thoughts, no mind.  Then, "Wow this is pretty amazi... Goddamnit!!"

The rest of the "dance phase" I find myself shifting back and forth between "mind" and "no mind." I would get lost in thought for up to a minute or more, catching myself, effectively bringing me back to the present moment, or "no mind." Surprisingly, I find my face familiarly contorting and my eyes begin to well up. All the switching from "mind" to "no mind" had given me a real taste of freedom from this mind. In a moment of insight I saw how my mind restricts me into a small and predictable way of being. In "no mind" I was absolutely free to be any way I wanted. The body would move despite "myself", and all that was in my experience was the beautiful and mysterious sensations that went along with it. A minute change in the melody and then the body would flow spontaneously, naturally into another sort of rhythm that effortlessly mimicked the music. There was no effort on my part, only a transcendental experience of the movement of this body in a variety of ways that "Myself" would never have experienced.

Phase 3 of the meditation is "sitting." the type I am most accustomed. The body has expended its "excess energy" and it is easier for the mind to be silent. 

Phase 4, the music stops and we lay sprawled on the floor around the room to "come out" of the meditation.

Snowdon and I

I have started noticing a very subtle and peculiar phenomenon. Snowdon, as people know him, is not the same as  'I'. 'I' am also familiar with this identity named 'Snowdon'. However, there exists a distressing gap between who 'I' am, and how 'I' is expressed in reality. Of course, 'Snowdon' will carry out the intention of what 'I' wanted to do or say, but he will do it his own way, with his own shade of meaning, and often this shade of meaning completely changes what 'I' wanted to do or say.

We ended the abhyanga massage workshop with giving each other Shirodhara. This is when warm oil is continuously poured over your third eye/forehead for about 30 minutes. I found it more blissful than I had previously imagined, and I took my time revelling in the moment with no hurry to get off the table. By this time most of us had adjourned to the courtyard for tea, and a remaining classmate checks to see how I'm doing. Engaging Natalie,  'Snowdon' takes over and describes the blissful experience he's had in the last half-hour. 'I', now a very weak and distant presence, feels helpless and disgusted to listen to the trivial verbiage that flow out of 'Snowdon's' mouth. 
 
My work of self-observation has evolved(?) into the observation of 'Snowdon'. 'Snowdon' is the mask 'I' wear. The part 'I' unconsciously play and unfortunately can't stop playing. It rules me and makes me say thousands of stupid things, thousands of things which 'I' would never say.

All of mind's contents are the accumulation of our experiences from the day we are born. If we can accept, from serious and extensive watchfulness, that the mind is relentless in its activity, and our moments of consciousness are very short and are separated by long intervals of completely unconscious, mechanical working of the machine. You can then see that you think, feel, act, work, without being conscious of it. 

People are automatons, their actions COMPLETELY governed by their environment. Our biggest mistake is thinking that we always have consciousness. In reality, consciousness is always in flux. Now you are conscious, and in the next you are not. Someone learning to drive for the first time requires total awareness of doing. Consciousness. After much practice, driving becomes mechanical. Unconscious. I am in india because it heightens my sense of consciousness. Everything is new, it is easier to be in the present. I am forced to be in the present. Self-observation becomes easier. Meditation is easier. I am 'at my best' when I'm in the present. I feel i am most myself. Too many months in one place, going through the usual daily activities of earning money, traveling the same route, meeting the same people, makes one unconscious. In unconsciousness, a person is COMPLETELY susceptible to external stimuli. If you don't have your mind, something else does. TV, radio, newspapers, magazines, advertising, a relentless barrage of cultural garbage created by other unconscious, materialistically hungry 
, ego-enhancing automatons. 

Even with all our good intentions, we are helpless to do anything different. We cannot change our circumstances because we dont have our minds. There are more wars and revolutions then ever before, and still we try change the outer. Elect a better president, Keppler 22b. We can only get what we've gotten in the past, because that is the basis our minds are operating from.

Food poisoning.

Breakfast is such a delight at Hotel Soraya. Rama, one of the servants, comes to by bungalow at 830am and asks what I'd like. His omlettes are the best. Toast, coffee or tea, cut fruit, and an array of jams. I've just finished breakfast and having a bowl of fresh cut pineapple slices as I write this.

I'm finding that I'm not spending as much time writing about my experiences as I thought I would be. It's such a foreign land to me and I'm allowing myself to be thoroughly immersed by the environment. My Indian headshake is coming along very nicely and even after a few days here it seems like the most natural thing to do. Haha! I remember in primary school we used to always make fun of the lone Indian boy and mock his Indian head shake by imitating it. I love it. There is an important non-verbal element in the gesture that cannot be conveyed through words.

Breakfast is so satiatingly abundant that Lunch usually consists of just some fruit. According to the ayurveda food guide and my respective doshas (pitta-Kapha dominant), banana isn't favourable, which is a bummer because I'm so lazy (Kapha) and its a an easy fruit to eat. Since arriving in Goa, I've been going to a local restaurant down the road for dinner. The first night I had fish curry, then the biryani mutton (heavenly!), then 2 nights ago the prawn curry. I came home starting to feel queasy in the stomach, and soon developed into full blown abdominal cramps. I didn't get much sleep that night and spent most of the time on the toilet. Morning came and once most of the diarrhoea had gone, I got a low fever. So yesterday was very uncomfortable, with me spending most of my time indoors. I did manage to go to class but decided to leave an hour early when sleep deprivation started to hit.

On the way to Morjim, I got pulled over at a police stop on the far side of Siolim bridge. From what i could see, a lone officer was selectively flagging down motorbikes. In India, foreigners are required to hold an international driving license.

Officer: license?
Me: I don't have it on me.
Officer: Come.
*gestures me to get off my bike and walk to the back of the police jeep where another fat officer is sitting in a lazy 'don't fuck with me' posture.
Fat officer: license?
Me: sorry I forgot to bring it.
Fat officer: where are you going?
Me: I'm learning Ayurveda massage at raso vai in Morjim. I stay in hotel Soraya.
Fat officer: you need an international license or we will have to seize your bike.
Me: oh no let's not do that. How much?
Fat officer: 700 rupees.
Me: 700 hundred?? *in aghast* nooo..
*i had been advised beforehand that 100 rupees is the 'fine' for not having a license on you.
fat officer: how much?
Me: 100.
Fat officer: hah! It's 700.
Me: ok, but I want a receipt.
Fat officer at this point takes out a pen to write on something but says I need to be owner of the bike. Since its a rental, he seems satisfied with my second offer of 100 rupees.
Me: *shuffling through my bag* oh crap! I forgot to bring money too! *looks at fat officer helplessly
Fat officer: Go! Go! *indian head shake*
LOL
I ride away feeling a little flustered and wondering if I would have the presence of mind and balls to tell them next time that this is bullshit and I'm not giving you any money.

Holy cow, I'm in India!

As soon as I boarded the plane I knew it was going to be a long flight. I had the window with a Venetian lady With whom i later got to know better seated on the aisle seat. The row in front of us were a young Indian couple with their brat of a 3 year old shrieking with all his lungs could muster even before the plane had started to move off. What I found disturbing was that not only did he seem to have no inkling that what he was doing was unbecoming, he did not show any sign of fear or anticipation that he was going to be reprimanded. No, they just ignored him with mom every now and then verbally pacifying him to no avail. This instigated me to fantasise about what I would do in a similar situation if it were my kid, and over the next hour or so found myself coerced into applying all my equanimity towards "hellboy". All well and good, until soon enough, casually looking up from my book, I see hellboy peering cheekily over the headrest and ducking for cover a split second after our eyes met. I inadvertently smile to myself at the recognition of innocence but then catch myself - because i realised that my shiny bald head has perked his curiosity and I am now within his conscious sphere of terror. Not much longer he starts dangling pieces of tissue and polystyrene headrest protector in front of my face toying with me. My half-hearted ackward attempts to snatch it from him only added to Venetian lady's in-flight entertainment. Ha! I finally snatch it from him and he disappears behind the backrest. Venetian lady, from the very beginning a sympathetic acquaintance, warns that he's going to "get me back." Lo and behold, 5 minutes later, hellboy sticks his head up over the headrest, and sprays me in the face! Stunned, I helplessly look over at his parents who are completely oblivious to what just happened. Thank goodness it wasnt a full flight, Venetian lady and I find new seats.

I land in Goa, and in my ignorance i had booked for a 33 day stay in India but only had a 30 day visa-on-arrival limit. Im asked to follow an officer to fill in appropriate paperwork and my first hand experience of Indian bureaucracy and inefficiency begins. I'm led to a bare office and asked to sit and wait. They go about doing their business getting my paperwork in order and rescheduling my departure while I brace myself for a long and very likely frustrating wait. I remind myself this was to be expected and that i am solely responsible for not getting my visa in order. I'm there for 2 hours, have my stay in india reduced to 27 days, retain my equanimity, and miss my connecting flight by 10 minutes. In India, you've got to shed all preconceived notions of 'how things should be' and roll with the punches. A wise approach to playing life, I think, and the very basis of why I wanted to come to India in the first place.

Refocusing on my breath, I look for a ticketing counter for my flight and find out the next flight would not be until 10pm. I decide to check into the cheapest available hotel, Renu Regency, but not before experiencing more local administrative incompetence and Indian non-conception of time. The bumpy ride to the hotel is jaw-dropping as the driver speeds through very heavy traffic and destitute areas of Mumbai in attempt to bypass clogged expressways. The smell is so thick of garbage and human waste it feels almost like I am wading through it. I look out the windows and throughout the 25 minute drive I see people cooking, washing, eating, sleeping in filth and trash like it's the most normal thing in the world. All my opinions and idealism of how the world "should be" evaporate and I slump into a sense of helpless insignificance.

We drive onto an an alleyway to a multistory building. Reception switches on the lights as we approach to reveal the ground floor of a building that in Singapore would not pass building codes or safety regulations. Funny how A few minutes ago i imagined "Regency" to have some semblance of regality in its presentation. I encounter more administrative Bullshit as they start questioning for a valid visa. For the first time I notice im starting to lose my cool and in words I don't recall, tell them that my stamp visa is legit. Interestingly enough, they readily comply and usher me unceremoniously to my room. I flick on the tv. Thank god they have cable. I allow myself to "switch off" and be hypnotised. anything to take me away from the blaring air conditioner, incessant honking from the street below, and horrendous excuse of a hotel room.

(unable to load photos on iPad, unfortunately)