Linda: Wilderness and Wisdom April 17

Wilderness and Wisdom

It is the beginning of the third full day here and I am now fully realizing how much the rhythm of my life has slowed to a conscious, easy amble. McLeod Ganj is a peaceful, vibrant community, and, much to my joy, it is tiny! My hotel, on the outskirts of the south side of the town, is a perfect combination of rustic and comfortable. It is quiet, clean, spacious with painted wooden floors, large windows dominating two walls, a private balcony, and a view over the mountains and valley. It even has the makings of a little kitchen ($20 extra for the month), though I haven’t decided if I want to go through the complication of cooking. I can eat a delicious dinner for $2 or $3. It is a small price to pay for simplicity. From my door, I can walk the entire length of the town in ten minutes, ten slowly paced minutes, and end up on a path that winds its way up the side of a mountain. Or, I can go behind my hotel out of town or at the monastery and temple of the Dalai Lama in less than five to ten minutes.

That is not to say that the town itself is without interest. The town consists of two streets lined with lovely little shops selling beautiful, beautiful things – a joy just to look at – and cafes with pretty dining areas, both inside and on the roof. The food is fresh, clean, delicious, and healthy. The air is also clean!! I have been fighting an eye infection due to city pollution for a month, which mostly meant not wearing my contacts. Here, I can wear them once again. And, the streets are reasonably clean! No more picking one’s way down a street. But the greatest delight of all is walking down the street and seeing so many astonishingly lovely, smiling, open faces. Well over half the population here is Tibetan, most of whom practice Buddhism with sincerity. Consequently, a significant proportion of the population (at least 60%) practices mindful action, compassion, and truthfulness. Shops and stalls are left unattended if a person needs to leave. It also translates into little acts of thoughtfulness like dumping water in a drainage ditch up the street from where people are sitting, even when that requires walking uphill. People are quiet, kind, patient, calm. Everyone. Not just the Tibetans. There is, of course a large number of Western tourists and Indians as well. It is a wonderful, healthy mix of many of the world’s populations together in one small place.

And why are they here? For the Tibetans, this is the center of the Tibetan government in exile and the home of the Dalai Lama, as well as other venerable lamas and monastic leaders. There are, in fact, two monasteries and a nunnery here in McLeod Ganj and other monasteries in the nearby cities. It seems that the choice of McLeod Ganj as the home on the Dalai Lama was based on a prophecy, but I have not yet heard the details of this. There is, therefore, a large presence of monks and nuns in their maroon robes, walking along the streets or sitting in the cafes, hotels, and on terraces. This is in addition to the population of Tibetans working. One goes down the street, watching lay people, monks, and nuns, going calmly from one place to another, prayer beads moving through their hands. Prayer, ceaseless repetition of prayer, is the thread through the day. It is in every step. It is in every conversation that I’ve had and in most that I’ve overheard. Meditation, mindfulness, intention, loving kindness, the ceasing of clinging attachment, being of help to others, compassion, thankfulness. The themes of the everyday. With all groups, there is no talk of movies, of work, of ruffled “feelings”.

That is not to say that someone else coming here will have the same experience! One tends to find what one seeks. (That is food for thought.) One man I spoke briefly with yesterday had been here three days and couldn’t wait to leave. Boring. Others spend their day smoking marijuana and hashish. They are in their little blissful fog, observing nothing deeply and nothing fully, yet somehow under the illusion of feeling “connected”. As the outside observer, especially with these stunning examples all around of mindfulness, of living purposefully, of commitment to an ideal, of discipline, of freedom from within, it is somewhat painful to see human beings sitting in a corner in a cloud of stupefied self-content. One can certainly come here and enjoy the vibrations of peace and prayer, which is not nothing. Yet, without action and the consequential changing of attitudes and lifestyle that comes with true learning, that vibration will have no home in the heart and runs the danger of merely fading into a pleasant memory.

Who else is here? Certainly, there are many Indians, whose lives are intertwined in the destinies of the influx of refugees here. All seems harmonious and cooperative, and it will be interesting to follow the threads of the various communities throughout our month here. It must be difficult for the Indians. Some have benefited from the Tibetans and the tourism. Others scrape out a subsistence living, a little jealous of the aid that is given to the refugees. Yet, if you talk to a refugee here, most of them would prefer a subsistence living in Tibet than the aid they receive in a foreign land. The Tibetans are extremely grateful for the home and support India has given. It is remembered, often.

And, finally, there are the Western tourists – really from all over! In a few short days, I’ve met with or overheard conversations of people from the U.S., England, Israel, France, Germany, Holland, Canada, Spain, Italy, Slovenia, and several whose accents/language I could not determine. Some are here because it is an accessible place for tourists to come and see the Himalayas. It is comfortable, it is interesting, and it is a good starting place for other journeys further up and farther in. Others are here to escape from their lives, to “mellow out in the mountains”. Others, the majority, come here for some kind of spiritual education, usually in Buddhism and more specifically in Mahayana Buddhism, especially that branch practiced in Tibet. Again, the plight of the Tibetan people and their place of refuge here in India has, in a way, opened Buddhism to the west. It has made authentic Buddhism accessible, and it has also opened the door to spin-off look-alike spiritualities. Not so much here, but elsewhere as it spreads across the world. One must be discerning.

And me? Why am I here? Wisdom and Wilderness. It is a time to be alone. (And I am fortunate to have a daughter with whom I can be “alone”.) It is a time to learn and to listen. It is a time to let things happen as they happen without seeking or desiring. It is a time to read and reflect. It is a time to wander and to interiorize the many, many experiences of India. It is a time to be at peace and lead a quiet, simple life with no place to go and nothing to “do”. For almost an entire month of my life, there will be no decisions. After a very, very busy, full, non-stop life of 50 years, I suspect this month of quiet and peace will present its own difficulties … its own understanding.

How is my life here? So far? I wake up, happy and energetic and naturally at 6:30 am – even though I am also fighting a head cold, my first illness in India. I have a quiet two hours, just doing morning things. Lately, I’ve had breakfast (and a lecture and dinner) with a young woman I met at the Ayurvedic class I took earlier at the Cultural Center. She has been attending classes in Shivananda yoga in Kerala as well as the Introduction to Buddhism class (10 days retreat) offered at a well-recommended Buddhist center here. It is always a joy to spend time with someone so awake, so intelligent, so consequential. The hours have flown in a meandering thread of meaning and introspection, trust and joy. What a gift! To have time to myself, and to also have time to deepen those thoughts, experiences, and insights with a like minded person is a blessed combination. We need time alone; we need the company of others of like mind, where the conversation isn’t always superficial. (The conversation doesn’t always have to be “meaningful”, either. It can be everyday and ordinary, but with the everyday and ordinary conversations, there is the underlying knowledge that more exists beneath the surface. Even that is a happiness.) Some time has been spent communicating through email and taking care of “business things”, which is often the case when we arrive somewhere. I’ve wandered through town. I’ve wandered up the mountains (more on that later). I’ve attended two lectures from a well known American Buddhist nun. The lectures were presented with the audience in mind, which was mainly young Westerners interested in spirituality and in transforming their habits and attitudes into something more constructive. It was refreshing and insightful, and made me realize how I love being old! Some things really aren’t problems anymore! There are other lectures and retreats with a deeper and more exact spiritual content available for those who have made a commitment and effort in that direction. Dinner afterwards, and “home”. The day unfolds like a fan. It will open again tomorrow, a repetition of simplicity.

I’ve been here for three days, and I still haven’t gone to the main monastery. It is there, just below me on the hill. But the thread of the day has not taken me there … yet. Maybe this afternoon, while I wait for Eleanor to arrive. This is where the Tibetans are. This is where the heart of this town lies. This is the source and reason for being of all that happens here. A path leads around the temple and monastery. When to go?

Now.