The very bad horse

In one of the Sutras the Buddha talks about the four kinds of horses: there is the excellent horse, the good horse, the poor horse and the very bad horse. The excellent horse moves before the whip even touches its back; just the shadow of the whip or a sound from the driver is enough to make the horse move. The good horse runs at the slightest touch of the whip on its back. The poor horse doesn't go until it feels pain, and the very bad horse doesn't bulge until the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones.

I came to Europe approximately 3 weeks ago. And for most of that time, I have been a Very Bad Horse.

Somehow the separation from my family has been brutal. I understand at a very rational level that it is the psychological effect of "coming to stay". But the heart is seldom rational, and the memory of my child's face or voice has plunged me repeatedly into the abyss of distress. I have also missed my mother, the comfort of her home, the warmth of the linen on the beds, the smells of the kitchen, the flowers in the garden, the special way the sun touches the window. Every single little thing has made me feel homesick... An interesting affair when you were as eager to leave as I was.

Then, the death-blow... my best friend is diagnosed with cancer, and I am here, impotent, looking at my computer screen and wanting to jump out of my skin. How can something like this happen when I am so helpless and useless... But it does.

All this while, and for 16 days and 16 unbearable nights, I have the FLU, and I mean it in capital cases. I do not sleep at night, because I am too busy coughing, sneezing or snorting disgustingly. My boyfriend doesn't sleep either, and probably has the very urgent instinctive need to choke me or suffocate me with a pillow at the very least. Yet, praise his heart, he doesn't, but rather takes gentle care of me. I wish I could say his love cured me, but it didn't. Fevers came and went, sore throat at bed time, sorer in the morning. Mucus my constant and revolting company. And my mood just kept improving.

Christmas came and went, together with a quite frank speech from a concerned boyfriend who gently but firmly crossed every T and dotted every I. So I faced the new year with a strong decision: Stop complaining, stop the bleeding wounds, stop the heartaches... just STOP.

January 1st finds me in the Gompa, resolutely doing prostrations, cough or no cough, pain or no pain. I continue to ache at different times, when I see little children with their mothers for example, or see pictures of smiling little girls. I still miss my mom and my heart goes out to my best friend every single day. But the point is not to deny these emotions. The point is to accept they are there and go on. The point is, when you find yourself to be the very bad horse, you get inspired and try harder.

A joke

As I check my email rapidly - I don't have much time, I am in the translation booth and the topic is quite technical, no time to waste on Facebook and other timewasting devices... (yet here I am, ok...) Anyways, I open my email and find the strangest email ever. A Catholic group has my name in their mailing list and have been sending regular emails lately. Today I got two, and the last one makes me smile.

They are kindly letting me know that someone died and are now inviting me to messes, I assume, I didn't finish reading the thing before I deleted it. I am not smiling because someone died, although death happens all the time and shouldn't be considered so gravely when you are sure the soul will go to heaven. I guess the possibility of hell is to blame for all the solemnity. Anyway, what was funny was the wording of the email. Apparently the departed was someone's grandfather, someone they call "Consecrated". It was literally something like this: Our consecrated jane doe's grand father has died, please join our prayers, bla, bla bla...

It might not even be funny. I guess what I am laughing at in the end is how completely crazy this sounds to me, personally. And how these crazy things were completely out of my head after just a few months in Europe as a resident of the Pure Land, following my lama with my sangha all over central Europe, and later living in a Buddhist Center in Budapest.

I had forgotten what it was like to live in a country where there is no Church-Government separation (except on paper, somewhere on the Constitution), since the church has the power to collect biology books from all schools because there is chapter speaking of masturbation and homosexuality (the horror!!!), and also condemns AIDS awareness programs if condoms are distributed. Please understand I am not trying to offend anybody, I do not consider these things to be either good or bad, these are simply facts. This is a country where all presentable people are either Catholics or Protestants, where many carry a bible under the arm and are able to accurately quote from it, and where Buddhism is just a word, and not a well understood one.

I am not complaining or condemning. Just stating the fact. To be cool in this country, my young teenage daughter considers it necessary to participate in a Catholic youth group, however in disagreement she may be with the general dogmas of the Catholic church. She is my daughter, and has grown-up watching me meditate and practice Yoga, two practices heavily condemned by the Catholic church. She is inevitably a product of my meditation and has been brought-up to have a broad mind where she can understand and accept others, be empathetic and open. What I wish for her is a culture where you don't need religious affiliations to be cool, where you are free to believe and think what you want.

Freedom is a good thing.

e=mc2

It's been a while.

Ever since I came home, things have been a bit hectic, emotion-wise, and I have been intensely "with me", meaning I haven't been overly social, actually I must admit, I've rather been behaving a bit hermit-like.I wouldn't say I've been sad, or overly disturbed by the situations unfolding around me, but I haven't been totally indifferent either. Change has been the only constant and I try to ride it with as much detachment as possible, thinking little about problems but feeling them all the same. Many issues coincided, and I was facing purification left and right. My inspiration was the first to suffer, although I had many ideas to share with you all, I just couldn't get myself to actually put them into words.

While I wouldn't say I have suffered, I must admit these past few weeks were difficult. It's not easy when things don't go as you planned. When your well-thought-out, well-organized and prepared projects just don't follow our predictions (projections?). In retrospect, it would seem that this is what the whole lesson was about: Things don't always fit our expectations. Boom! I hear an echo from the summer's teachings: "Don't have expectations!" Our lama keeps repeating to us. It is a stupid waste of our time. Yet I must say it also a good opportunity to look at ourselves more closely.

And everything has not been a loss. I must admit I have never before in my adult life spent as much quality time with my mother. I can feel the improvement, and although we still don't always see eye to eye (I sort of suspect, we'll never actually see eye to eye, in fact, I fear on some issues we will forever remain in well separated corners), we enjoy being with each other. The beginning was tough,  it was as if my mom was very subtly complaining about all my months of absence, and wanted me to make good for lost time in a matter of hours (minutes, please?). But I feel we've finally asserted ourselves in comfortable positions where I am more able and willing to give than ever before, and she is open as she hadn't been in a long time. It's good.

My kids are also on top of things with my self inflicted reclusion. They get to see me ALL the time (probably TOO MUCH time for my adorable teenager, but just perfect for my youngest!). We sleep, eat, play, dream, joke, cook, drink, study, read, and almost bathe together. It's not too much for me either. I'm just fine with it, (although my teenager I would probably like to lock in a closet sometimes, but it's part of the story and I always knew these days would come, just please promise me it won't happen with the other one as well!!!!), so definitely, there are upsides to the whole confinement situation.

However, I have been trying so hard to focus only on the good parts and outperform the misery, that I think I just forgot I am suppose to work on this, to do the magic, to use the methods and turn coal into gold. Or better! into diamonds. As I was meditating one morning, finally lightning struck. I could suddenly understand that I have not managed to ignore ANY of my suffering, that I have actually suffered, am suffering right now, and will probably continue to do so until I acknowledge the fact that the only thing that's hurting is my own expectation of things. That it was stupid of me to actually build and have these expectations. That when you lose something, you're actually NOT losing anything. That all is good in the world (yes!), and that deep inside I have nothing to worry about (yikes! really?)

I remembered that disturbing emotions are not rocks and bumps to be avoided, rather they are truly the fuel on which wisdom runs, and I realized I was quite lucky to be able to burn all this before it did any more harm.  Buddha's present is infinite and unmeasurable. I had forgotten it, but now, I remember. I am suddenly brought back a few months into the past, at a time of great confusion and suffering, when I thought I might have committed an act of folly and that my heart would never heal from its longing. I remember how deeply I felt it then, how profoundly I connected with my pain, and how quickly I allowed for it to heal. That's really what it takes, to accept our shortcomings as what they are, and stop blaming everyone and everything else. Things are the way they are, and that's not so bad if one takes a good look. Everything happens for a reason and we can only accept this and move on.

I decide not too linger on my own flaws, I see them clearly and also move on, little can be learned from self-recrimination.  Eyes wide open it's easy to see the emptiness of phenomena, and how little weight the small tragedies have on the big picture of our lives. Just a few months have passed, and my life has changed drastically, of course not only the areas that I wanted to change changed, some changes I couldn't foresee took place, and I decide to start considering everything as evolution. After all, my life is blessed, full of prosperity, health, love, and blessings, so what if some people stay behind, if some chapters close, if some moves entail some suffering. Success comes to the bold, the dreamers who dare to make their dreams come true, come what may.

After that sad bump in the summer, I found myself at a Phowa course experimenting the wildest of disturbing emotions: desire/attachment. Without seeing it coming I had become slightly obsessed over a handsome stranger that kept locking eyes with me, but who never approached me, for his life.  I wanted him and no other, and could not understand the sad fate that would not bring this man to me. After a couple of days of more and more miserable longing, a cute, funny guy sat next to me in the course. We became fast friends and in a surprising turn of events I found myself one night happily entangled with this young man in Carina's tent. After a most satisfying and entertaining night, we said goodbye, as my new friend was leaving the course early. With a sweet and spontaneous speech, he wished me good luck, may I soon enjoy many nights like the one we had just shared, good-humoured and loving, may this bring me happiness. As you all know, his wishes  worked. I can't complain of the gifts that came my way afterwards, and I think of my good friend with unending gratitude. May all his wishes come true for him as well.

Not only did he teach me that the greatest joy comes from wishing the best for others, he also gave me the ultimate teaching: although we generally believe we know quite well what's best for us, if we release our own projections for a minute and open up to space, the results will be much more than we ever hoped for, even if they surprise us greatly. It's once again a matter of absolute trust.

Smiling while in the heart of the Red Buddha, these lessons are quite easy to appreciate. Reconnecting with the blissful nature of space proved a little bit more difficult locked-up in my mother's house in San Salvador, sulking with grief over the idea of lost friends and the resulting disappointment, and worried about the future as to money-issues and the impending separation from my family. Yet, by simply bringing it to my mind, the joy of the Phowa meditation is once again all over me, and I can effortlessly connect with the nature of bliss, and reclaim it as my birth right.

It's all very well to have emotions and to understand them, even better if we let wisdom surge also from the process, yet it's even better to play them down in order to focus on what's real through and through, the nature of my mind. Once again I take ownership of my reactions. This is MY life after all...

The Most Wonderful Adventure

I went to the beach today. Ever since I came back, I hadn't even been near the ocean, and it honestly felt good. It felt more than good. So much so that for a while, I truly thought I was in the Pure Land, or what most people would understand as heaven.

As we were driving to the coast, I could finally remember what it was that I love so much here... It is not the country, which is after all only a name, with unfriendly associations (for me). It is the land... Lush shades of green, high cliffs overlooking the bluest of the bluest, there, where the sky mixes with the ocean...

And trust me, I have been to many beaches in my life. My travels have taken me all the way to the Indian Ocean, which is magnificent, populated with the most colorful and interesting lifeforms, and on whose shores one finds paradisaical spas and jewels of small hotels, where the life of the tourist is, indeed, heavenly. I have also been to the Caribbean, where you can lay in the water all day while pelicans lounge nearby and you just relax while Piña Colada oozes endlessly into your glass, never half-empty... I've swum with sharks and turtles and rays in the blue waters, and as a child, I was a regular at the Cote d'Azur Mediterranean sea, from the shores of Camargues to the small creek at Théoule-sur-Mer, where I spent most of my summers. I even swam in the cold North Sea, while vacationing at the Oléron Peninsula, or in the Atlantic shores of Bretagne summers. I've walked through the Aegean Sea, in Crete, with a group of buddies, fully clothed, (by the way, that is one of the joyful moments of my life that I will never forget). More recently I even crossed the Baltic Sea with a bunch of Dharma friends, and actually scuba dived - without scubas - in the Adriatic Sea with my boyfriend a couple of months ago. So you could say I know a thing or two when it comes to great masses of water...

So, my friends, believe me... The Pacific Ocean is something else entirely!!!

First of all, the name... come on!!! Could it possibly be more enthralling? "Pacific"... that is, of course, the last thing you'd think upon looking at the wild upsurge and breaking of the waves. And yet it is, pacific, in the sense that swimming in these waters transforms you... Today, for example, was magical! As I stood there, staring, in absolute fascination, the Ocean's only witness except for a lone fisherman, some distance away, the waves hit and crashed in almost miraculous ways... I wished I had my camera with me and had been able to catch a special moment, when a tall wall of crystal water rised, fascinating, transparent, only to crash and disappear in the world's largest bubble bath one second later. It was so magnificent, I almost felt like clapping, and although I did not clap, I screamed!  I screamed in glee, in wonder and amazement, in gratitude at being there, and then just stripped and ran to the water.

It was fresh and deep and playful and it opened up to me like a mother to her estranged child. I dived and swam and laughed for a long long time. Both Maïa and Glo came to join me after a while, and we all felt brand new... like somehow the sea had taken all our worries, all our preoccupations, all negativity, all fear to a deep far away abyss, and replaced them with open space... space to be happy, space to be radiant, space to be nothing but to only exist.

We even flew a kite! Maïa brought hers. It's an orange Koi fish, and it flew high over our heads, brilliant against a deep blue sky. After the afternoon nap, in a brightly colored hammock (oh how I have missed those!), I meditated on the beach, while my kid jumped in the waves at low tide. The sun set and ignited the sea with pink,  the sky ablazed... All I could feel was space enveloping me, and time was an illusion, I could only think "If this is not real - and somehow it is not - then mind is truly the most wonderful adventure."

Mo

"If you go back to El Salvador, it will be bad, you must come back here to Europe"

This was Lama Ole's divination for me, when my doubts attacked me and I asked him whether I should move to Europe or go back to El Salvador.

As always, he was right.

My lama knows me, he knows who I am, and what I am capable of. That's all I need.

The rest, those who also know and hate it, I have no use for.

So hard

Stay in the present moment. 

Wow! That's so hard!!!! It's so hard to stay in the present moment because I miss my boyfriend so much, and I just keep on thinking about the day I'll finally see him again. It is so hard because there are so many things on my mind that worry me, about whether the rain is going to continue pouring down for another week or not. It is so hard because my daughter has a lovely friend who has many problems at home and I'd like to help. It is so hard because coming back to El Salvador I have had to face so many disappointments and I feel out of place. It is so hard because I've ran out of money and need to make so many expenses. It is so hard because the roads in my country are blocked because bridges have fallen and I had a trip planned I can no longer take. It is so hard because my mother's getting older and I find her so vulnerable. It is so hard because once again I find myself without a Sangha to go to just when I need to meditate so hard. It is so hard because I just want to be elsewhere most of the time. It is so hard because if I were elsewhere I would be worried about my family who would have stayed behind. It is so hard because I don't like my here and now. It is so hard because I miss my boyfriend so much and he is so far away, and there's still such a long time before we see each other again. (Did I say that already?) It is hard because of the many choices that mean I will always be leaving someone behind.

It is just so damn hard...

The struggle

The rain doesn't stop falling down, and it reflects my mood to perfection.

I learned yesterday that the complex and intricate immigration laws of the European Union will not allow me to come back to Hungary until December.

I try to look at the bright side of things and suppose it means I will have more time to spend with my family and also more time to work at my profession, earning good money that I can later use to invest in building my new life in Europe. But... my mood still is as closed and gray as the sky above, where the rain never stops. I could scream.

I try to distract myself and see my friends, take my kids to the movies, and work on a difficult legal translation I'm in the process of doing. I even try to cook. But the rain doesn't stop falling and my efforts to improve my mood just fall with it. I am angry, irritable, and did I mention it, also PMSy. I feel trapped in a golden cage, where everything looks perfect but it is all a bad joke because I can't leave it.

I know I am supposed to be a grown-up about this, and act all mature and wise. Focus on the higher view all the time and smile happily because all is well in my world, when it could actually be going so much worse. Literally much worse. Around me, in the whole of Central America, people are dying, losing their homes and everything they hold dear, and we cannot do much to help. Sure we can donate our clothes, our blankets, even some food or medications, but their predicament is still terrible and unforgiving.

Reflecting on others' misery actually gets me out of my egotistical little world and makes me look at my life in perspective... I am healthy, I am safe, my loved ones are as well, we have a strongly built home, which provides warmth and comfort, and a hot cup of tea is within my reach anytime, heck! even hot chocolate if I want! This should do it.

Yet, ever so human, my ego refuses to let me go. It screams from deep inside to focus on my own petty dramas, it wants me angry and sad. It needs me insecure and weak, trembling with leaky eyes. It thrives on my discomfort, on my craving for attention. This actually pisses me off even more than anything else. Am I really this basic??? Am I really so shallow??? And the sad answer is yes I am.

But I am also something else. I am also a deep and profound lake of inner peace, a shining female Buddha, who looks lovingly upon the world around. I am a temple of strength, endurance and trust. I am a mountain, tall and unshakable. I am his student, and a devoted practitioner. I am the music, and I am all joy; and I am true love. Even when I forget about it and let the inner storm rage in the oceans of my mind; underneath the surface, a Buddha is smiling. And I suddenly realize... I am smiling too.