Dog Beua

There is a prayer, or mantra, in Tibetan Buddhism: Om mani padme hum. It doesn’t translate into English well. The most common translation is ‘The jewel is in the lotus’, which doesn’t get us very far in understanding the meaning. For a very long time, I have worn a ring which has this mantra written on it, in Tibetan script. Most recently, for no specific reason, I have worn the ring on my right ring finger.

In Laos, many people ask me about it. Not only do they wear wedding rings on either the left or right hand, but the script is vaguely similar to Laos script since both Tibet and Laos written language have shared origins in Pali and Sanskrit. Although I enjoy the inquiries, it is not a short conversation.

First, I have to explain that I am ‘poo bow’ – a single man. Naturally, this is met with surprise and playful flirtation and sometimes a rather awkward discussion about someone’s daughter, mother, niece, etc. Then, I have to explain the meaning of Om mani padme hum – the jewel is in the lotus. I’ve translated the English translation into Laos, ‘Kuang mii kaa nái dog beua’. Needless to say, this seems to perplex the person more than the English version.

It’s easy when talking with English-speaking Christians about this. I simply say ‘God exists within all things’. This seems to be a satisfactory translation and a palatable thought. However, when dealing with Laos Buddhists through a very thick accent (to them, I must sound like a 2 year old with a speech impediment), it’s far more challenging. Over the past year, I have had the conversation enough times that I can now get my point across in less than 5 minutes without the use of illustrations (I’ve decided my illustrations all look like low budget, sci-fi erotica, so I’ve abandoned them).

What is most surprising in these discussions is the apparent skepticism once the message has been received. At first, when I point to myself and say ‘Buddha in me’, they nod in agreement. Then I point to them and say ‘Buddha in you’ again, they agree. Yet, when I point to a child or a woman or a dog or a beggar, Doi turns to baw; yes, turns to no. I’m not 100% certain why.

Yes, there is a good amount of archaic thinking about women’s role in Laos society. However, Laos women are remarkably strong and resilient and they are frequently passionate about their spirituality. In my day-to-day observations, I don’t see a lot of people considering women weak or inferior. In terms of the beggar, there is a distinction between rich and poor, but many of the monks come from very poor families – often times it is because of poverty that they will join a monastery in order to get an education. I may be pushing it when I point to a dog, but in the true essence of the mantra, the dog has a chance at nirvana, also. (as a side-note, in Jack Grace band’s latest news letter he said ‘Dogs are more relaxed about sex than you are’ – I had to laugh!). Back to my point, if I have one.

I really can’t determine which is the truth. Sometimes, I think it is a combination of archaic thinking, class-ism, sexism and maybe a few other ism’s that make Om mani padme hum not acceptable. Other times, I think this idea – the idea of the Buddha-nature being in all of us – is so much a part of Laos culture that intellectualizing it is just pointless, crazy-talk.

Once you have learned the way to enlightenment, you must – or more accurately, you will by nature of enlightenment itself – throw away all that you think. Maybe I think too much. I probably do. Still, I can’t get my head around the reactions, given they so naturally demonstrate the jewel in the lotus in their day to day world.

Resonance

Resonance is a big part of our existence which few of us consider in our day to day lives. It has a lot more influence on behavior than we realize. Resonance is a two way street. Resonance influences how others react to us and it influence how we react to others.
I know a man who seems to work very hard at being frightening to others. He is very big and very strong and appears ready to fight at any moment. I don’t know this man very well, but I’ve watched is interactions closely. People are afraid of him. Some of his friends say he’s a very nice guy, but I will probably never know because he resonates violence and I don’t like violence.
I know another man who is very kind. He exudes adaptability. His manner is soft and pliable. Even his face seems to say ‘I am kind and generous and caring. Welcome to whatever I have.’. People take advantage of him. They don’t manipulate him; they just do whatever they want. They eat his food, drink his beer, spend his money, and sleep in his bed. They mistake his kindness for weakness. He resonates vulnerability.
How we resonate can, and does, affect how others treat us. It affects who comes near. It affects who stays away. What we exude determines if we are mugged or hugged. And those reactions to our own resonance come back to us and they grow exponentially.
I know a country who has picked a fight with the world. Rear admirals at the front of the fleet braze their might in broad daylight. Representatives feel the cold walls of the corner where they stand; they pick their battles and hope July will show sunnier skies. I know a country which resonates fear and violence, yet its citizens still struggle to live with love and hope and decency and dignity and patriotism. They yearn to keep an even keel.
Keep an even keel in this world. Do not vibrate on the frequency of violence and hatred. Do not tune yourself into a doormat, either. Respect both yourself and others equally. Speak your mind but do not shout it. It is something we all know, yet we all struggle with it from time to time.
You are here. You will resonate, whether you know it or not. Chose wisely the song you sing because the airwaves are far more precious and far more listened to than you can imagine.

Thinking Cage

We think a lot. Maybe we think too much. We think and we identify. We think and we assess and we categorize and classify. We decide who we are. We decide what is and what is not. We decide how and when and where. We solidify everything, everything in motion and everything at rest, with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we build safe, inescapable cages.
All too often I hear tourists in Laos say, ‘Oh, the Laos people are so friendly.’ They find the people of this country to be so friendly and happy and kind and genuine. People remark on how babies don’t cry and children sit patiently on busses. They remark on how women will sit not waiting, not being patient, not being anything at all; they will just sit, as if they have transcended patience and impatience and all that is in between. People remark on how friendly the Laos people are. This, too, is a trap.
The Laos people are not innocent nor naïve. They are not beyond suffering or hatred or greed or violence. In contrast to the west, they are indeed far more healthy in their mindset, but there is more to the Laos demeanor than the very friendly face the passer by might witness.
It is fine to have illusions, if you like. It is fine to think ‘Life is X’. It is fine to think ‘I am Y’. It is fine to think ‘You are Z’. It is fine to think ‘Laos people are always friendly’. But know that this illusion is a cage that may disintegrate at any moment with no notice. When your marriage fails, friends evaporate, health turns sour, what will you do? When a jaded Laos person shows their racist hatred, how will you exist now that you have been thrown from your cage? Will you have the energy to redefine your world? Will you have the time to restructure while your illusions burn? Will you have the clarity to define satisfactory new illusions to build a new cage? Will you like your new cage?
Throw away the bars. Throw away the bricks. Throw away the chains. Find freedom without your cage. You can not find freedom outside your cage in the same way you can not find freedom within your cage. You must find freedom with no cage at all. Look for your freedom without definitions and categories and assessments. When you have found this, you will be free. When you have thrown away the shackles of dogma, the bars of subjective thought, the oh-so-breathless, oh-so-shapely, oh-so-accepted corset of mental modification, you have found the natural state, the Buddha-mind, the Brahmin which exists within us all.

Go Into Peace

I met a man from Bethlehem. We talked abut religion and politics. Despite very different backgrounds and different faiths our views aligned quite well. We both believe in sharing our thoughts. We both believe in living as fully, as honestly, as piously as we can. We both believe in peaceful coexistence. We both believe in giving ourselves a break. We both believe in giving others a break. He, too, is a seeker.

I have the great good fortune to meet quite a few people who share this mindset. These are people who crave information, they strive towards wisdom. They yoke their minds to a higher plain of existence. More people are becoming keen on this idea. I’m not sure why. Is it the speed of which information is shared in today’s world? Is it the prevalence of crime and war and hatred that sends the sensitive running into the street to preach peaceful coexistence? Is it simply that because this is something on my mind that I attract like-minded people? I don’t have an answer.

But I do have a point.

A number of months ago, and American tried to tell me that one of the beliefs of Islam is to wipe out all non-Muslims. I didn’t believe it at the time, but I have been looking for someone who could definitively debunk what I heard. I told the man from Bethlehem the story. The hurt in his eyes was clear. I asked him to please confirm for me that in no way, shape or form does the Koran say this. He assured me that what I had heard was absolutely wrong. He continued to explain the word “Islam”; “Salam, peace” he said. “Islam, to go into peace.” We had a long discussion about peace and respect for differences.

I don’t think Europe is getting the same type of propaganda the Americans are getting, so this is directed more towards people of the USA gobbling up Fox News like strained peas. Do not for one second think that Muslims are trying to attack you because you are non-Muslim. Yes, there are fanatics out there that are caught up in a frenzy of greed and politics, they may happen to be Muslim. But in the true sense of the word 'Islam', such people have long ago abandoned their faith.

Have confidence that there are seekers of all faiths all around the world, join in conversation with these people, share your ideas, accept the differences and maybe one day we can chip away at the mountain of misinformation which spawns hatred and leaves so many people dead, wounded, orphaned and alone.

In the “real” world, today was a travel day. Yes, at last, I have wrenched myself from Vientiane to head north towards Luang Phrabang. I prefer to break the journey into two legs, stopping in Vang Vieng, halfway between the two cities. It is a beautiful town on the Nam Song (Nam means ‘river’, Song means any of the following: monk, pants, trousers, mix, brew, support, send, transmit). Although Vang Vieng is a somewhat sordid place – a Koh San Road of Laos – the scenery is stunning so I enjoy the stopover. Also, the 9 am bus leaves sometime around 1pm, so the idea of getting to Luang Phrabang after dark does not interest me. Instead, I have plenty of time to write a quick blog entry and enjoy myself.

I am looking forward to a peaceful night on the River of Transmitting a Monk, his Brew and his Trousers.

Threshold Nightmares

I have vivid dreams.  Lately they have become unusually extreme.  Some are nightmares others are so bizarre and fast-moving I can almost feel the wind blowing my hair back (hey, it’s my dream, I’m allowed!).  In most of the nightmares there is some element of being in prison.  One was a Thai prison, the others were Laos prisons.  There are three dreams I want to talk about.  One was from nearly a month ago, the other two happened yesterday.

The month-old dream/nightmare was family-oriented.  I was in a alpine climate, maybe the forest near Chang Mai.  All my family was going to be there.  My niece, Abby, was wearing a lot of makeup and she was not my niece, but instead my deceased grandmother.  It confused and frightened me to see her.  It made me cry.  She smiled in a very friendly way and assured me everything was alright.  I walked down a long outdoor hallway and turned a corner only to be confronted by the Thai police, arrested (no charges) and told to clean toilets.  I laughed in their face which caused the number of toilets to triple.

The second dream was during my afternoon siesta yesterday.  In the dream, I was in a slightly large yet still remote ban (village) in northern Laos.  There was a row of wood-frame houses on a dirt road (imagine that, a dirt road in Laos!), they looked very similar to the type of buildings one finds in Dawson City, Yukon.  I was making friends with the owners of these buildings when a group of people wearing red uniforms and red French Foreign Legion hats got off a bus and started walking through town.  Everyone wanted to know who they were, so they asked me to find out.  I approached two of the strangers and as I got closer, I recognized them to be tango dancers (although their costumes were not tango attire at all).  As I approached, I wanted to say something, but my tongue had turned solid in my mouth.  I choked on it.  I could not move my mouth, I could not find any words.  With a tremendous amount of effort managed to find the right language and spit out the word “Hola!”.  The phone in my real life rang and I awoke from the dream before they could respond.

The third dream was last night.  Again, I was in prison – this time much more like the real Laos jail in Vientiane.  There were some worn mats on a small platform, corrugated metal walls and roof, and very frightening inmates and even more dangerous guards.  A homosexual tried to touch me so I slept on the floor with the rats.  In the dream, my laptop was stolen due to my own negligence.  When I discovered the theft, I again struggled to make my tongue move, yet found myself incapable of expressing myself.

This is a bit of a segue to my point, but interesting so I include it.  The part about my niece being my dead grandmother is significant.  In Laos, it is believed when an ancestor visits you in your dreams, it is considered a very powerful omen.  It could mean that your ancestor is keeping guard over you or it could mean they are warning you to be careful – that you may be overstepping your bounds.  Thanks, Abby, for the conduit service – message received, Rose.

Now, getting to the gist of why I am talking about these three dreams and the threshold aspect of them.  The first dream had to do with my learning to deal with the culture.  An expat had told me that one way to deal with being confronted by an authority who might be looking for a bribe or something is to simply tell them “No”.  According to the expat, it has a way of stopping them dead in their tracks, as if all synapse fail.  Laughing in the face of the Thai guards was an exaggeration of this advice and got me into a rather nasty situation.  This ties slightly to the next two dreams.

In both cases of yesterdays dreams, I found myself incapable of communicating.  Only with tremendous focus and effort could I eek out a simple “hello”.  I think what is happening is that my mind, and maybe my ancestors, are trying to tell me that I must learn to communicate and that I am on the verge of doing so.  My frustration with not being able to speak – not being able to say much more than chicken, water, thank you, hello, my name is…,– is getting to me and my mind is telling me that it is time to approach the Tango dancers and try.  I have to try.  What would I be if I didn’t even try?  Certainly not a Tango dancer, probably a convict.

 

Will it do any good?

A friend of mine often says “If I could save just one…”

He is a good man; he has a good heart. He helps a lot of people in Laos. Sometimes it is an hour a day giving English lessons to a disenfranchised prostitute. Other times, he will pick up a gift of colored pencils and a pencil case to give to the school children. He will send money from overseas to help pay tuition or to assist in paying some medical expenses. He dreams of building a school for the children in a remote province. Some might say he is a sucker, a fool, but that doesn’t seem to stop him. Last night, he told me he often doubts that his efforts are doing any good.

How do you know if your good deeds are changing anything? Does it matter?

If we know that our benevolence will be well received, there is a comfort in that and the comfort can help encourage us. But if we do not know the results, do not know the effectiveness, our generosity, patience and loving kindness should not waver. I think, often times, people want reassurance that their efforts will be appreciated and worthwhile. People frequently will refrain from helping someone because they “know it won’t do any good.”

How some people have figured out the method of predicting the future is a mystery to me. They know a good deed will go unappreciated only because they believe that life, the world, the universe, the cosmos is static. I don’t live in a static existence. I live in a world of fractals, constantly building and growing and reacting and adjusting. I think I know which direction I’m going, but I have no guarantee that I will continue in this direction for one moment more. It’s chaos, but it is also quite organized… if I can only step back far enough to see the whole picture.

A number of years ago I was the patient of a very well respected psychotherapist, Dr. Robert Akeret. He is well known for his book titled, Photoanalysis: How to Interpret The Hidden Psychological Meaning of Photos, as well as his book, Tales from a Traveling Couch. In Tales, he tracks down a number of his former patients to see how they did or did not benefit from his work with them. It’s an interesting read.

Akeret and I went different ways after a year or so of counseling. At the time, I was pretty short of funds. He and I made an agreement that I would remit full payment for his services once I got back on my feet. After a few months, he sent a rather harsh letter reminding me we had made an agreement and he expected full payment even if I was not happy with the results of the work we had done together. It was clear from his letter that he believed I was angry with him and the result of the therapy and he implied in the letter that I was planning to welsh on the agreement. Other than sending a check for payment in full, I never corresponded with Akeret again.

I find it ironic that a man who wrote a book about following up on the progress of his former patients would jump to this conclusion. I did not then, nor do I now, hold any animosity towards the man. In fact, I am quite grateful for his role as a catalyst to a change in my life which was long over due. Akeret, I think, is one of those people who doubts whether he is being effective. Unless he stumbles across this blog, he will probably never know the gratitude I have.

How our actions and words shape the world, we most times never know. It is very easy to doubt that our efforts have been squandered. However, it is just as easy – and, I think, easier – to have confidence and dismiss doubt all together. There are plenty of people out there that are probably grateful for things you have done in your life. Maybe you smiled sweetly at an old man having a bad day and prevented him from putting his head in the stove. Or maybe that sweet smile simply made his morning coffee a little bit nicer. Maybe you said something in kindergarten that you don’t even remember, and it encouraged someone to strive to “love everyone (except those that hit)”. The list of maybes can go on forever. But itemizing the maybes is a quest for fools. The wise person sticks to proper action not because of the maybes – the results – but because it is the right thing to do. Do not doubt the benefit which you can offer the world with a smile or a helping hand.

Puritanism

I am stuck on Nekkhamma parami, renunciation.

Ever since I was very, very young, I have had many questions about religious concepts and practices. I used to think a lot of religious practices had to be very stiff and proper. Often this idea aligned with what others thought. As I got older, I had to dig up, discard and backfill a number of those misperceptions. One was the illogical confusion between prudish and pious and how they applied to religious practice. I thought a spiritual seeker had to be both prudish and pious. In fact, I thought they were the same thing.

Prudish or exaggeratedly proper, didn’t sit well with me. Being somewhat rebellious, I resisted embracing anything to do with prudishness, and therefore, I resisted religious practice. To satisfy my thirst for spiritual pursuits, I had to devise my own philosophy – my own religion, so to speak. I decided that I would do whatever I wanted and, if I kept my heart in the right place, everything would work out fine.

Where is the right place? To me, it certainly isn’t walking about in itchy robes with frankincense, myrrh and a balcony full of choirboys. Churches and priests and things like that used to make me think of death and the macabre, not life and exuberance. If the God-and-heaven-and-eternity story ends up being true, I don’t want to be wearing an uncomfortable suit and a pair of dorky buster browns. If I have to act prim and proper and stodgy with God for eternity, the right place is going to be pretty rotten for me. God probably isn’t going to have a very good time either.

My “do what ever I want and, if I keep my heart in the right place” philosophy, gives me a healthy respect for the cause and effect principles – this includes where I may have to spend eternity. Nice, comfortable, pajamas-and-ice cream eternity – not splintery wooden bench in a cheap suit eternity. That’s the right place for me.

Fortunately, there’s Puritanism. Puritanism is not necessarily acting like the Pilgrims who landed on Plymouth Rock in 1620. It is not necessarily wearing one of those funny hats or uncomfortable buckled shoes. It’s not necessarily making bentwood furniture in eastern Pennsylvania. It’s not necessarily splintery wooden benches. It can be this, if you like, but it doesn’t have to be.

The definition of the word Puritanism, ‘having, showing, or expressing reverence for a deity’ gives me plenty of leeway. Puritanism doesn’t say anything about having to act like smelly Uncle Ernest living alone with dusty books in a stone house in the country and insisting on being addressed as “Sir”.

As a Puritan, all you have to do is keep in tune with the reverence of “all that is” – which could be loosely translated to a form of deity. Puritanism allows for doing the things I want to do, as long as I don’t forget to keep my heart in the right place. Not only does it allow for this, it encourages it.

To show how this can manifest, let’s use the example of sex. I could use a different example, but people like sex (sometimes as much as pajamas and ice cream) so it will be easier to keep focus.

First consider prudish sex. Ok, that’s enough of that.

Next, consider non-puritan sex. A hate-shag, a meaningless screw, a revenge-f*ck, a rape… very ugly thoughts, and sadly not all that uncommon, are examples of non-puritan sex. Depending on how deep those horrible feelings are within the heart – how not-right-place they are- it will likely increase the odds of going to hell or some other form of misery.

Now consider puritan sex. You can have puritan sex – more commonly called tantric sex – by keeping your heart in the right place. When you yoke your mind to the higher plains of existence, your heart is in the right place and, in essence, you are being a puritan. If you can sustain that state and stimulate the body and mind and soul in a sensual and sexual way, you are now having puritan sex. This is when the funny hat and buckled shoes become very awkward but if it works for you, that’s ok, too.

How does this relate to Nekkhamma parami - renunciation? I bring up prudish and puritan to help shed another clue on the subject. Look at the example above. What is being renounced is not the act of sex (often mistakenly categorized as desire) but rather the lower plains of existence, the dimensions of hate and fear and greed and lust.

The way we have perverted both the idea of “giving up” and the meaning of the word “desire” has turned puritans in to prudes and depleted the church, the monastery, convent, and the pool of those people who practice reverence. I don’t think the great prophets and messiahs wanted anyone to refrain from being alive by giving up giving and sharing – even on the physical aspect (king’s and queens might have added that stuff in later). I think the message is to put your heart in the right place, put your thoughts in the right place and live as fully as possible.

A Little More Renunciation

I want to talk a little more about Renunciation, Nekkhamma parami, the third Buddhist Perfection. I want to talk about it because it is one of the trickier ones. The point I last made on the subject was, “my biggest possession – the most significant shackle around my ankles – is my thoughts”. When I wrote it, I knew I was leaving out a big part of the picture, but time was of the essence, so I let it be. Now, I want to expand on renunciation of thoughts.

“O seeker!
Give up desire.
Shake off your chains.”
- Dhammapada – The Sayings of Buddha

In case you haven’t noticed, desire is a very big part of our lives. We have entire cultures who thrive on desire. We desire things. We desire others. We desire being desired.

But there are other thoughts, thoughts we need to help us advance. Within our cultures, the same cultures that thrive on desire, we thrive on thoughts which move us along the path towards a greater good.

Health, contentment, and trust
Are your greatest possessions.
And freedom your greatest joy.
- Dhammapada

So do not make the mistake so many people do in faiths: do not highlight the juicy part and disregard the boring part. Do not think that, in the early stages, you will successfully wipe out all thoughts and abandon all possessions. Instead, accept your thoughts, try to harness those, use those which are positive for your advantage. Take it a little bit at a time, lean away from desire and towards trust. Do not dismiss sexual desire and forget to be silly. Do not rise above vanity and disregard cleanliness. Do not seek a better life and renounce reality.

Disclaimer

Regarding my last post titled, Closing Lights. I want to make a few things clear. Prostitution is illegal in Lao PDR. Furthermore, any romantic or sexual relations between Lao nationals and foreigners is a criminal act. Do not believe any claims that such transgressions of the law are not enforced. It is advised all visitors stay clear of such relations. Any comments I may make are purely conjecture or based on heresay. I have no definitive knowledge of any criminal acts occuring in these establishments. My comments are in no way to be construed as an accusation or implication of any individuals or establishments.

I chose to include the names of specific establishments only to help promote awareness of good dance clubs in Vientiane. Other locations were not named for various reasons.

Closing Lights

Many people know about my aversion to closing lights. Closing lights are the bright lights that go on in the bar after last call. It’s at this time that people are at their worst. It’s at this time that men get that last chance gleam in their eyes, when digits are being exchanged, advances refused, when bad decisions are being made, when prostitutes are sizing up wallets and drunkenness.

Joni Mitchell said it perfectly in the song Down to You on her album, Court and Spark. I love these lyrics because they are universally true:

A few drinks later you’re not so choosy
When the closing lights strip off the shadows
On this brand new flesh you’ve found
Clutching the night to you like a fig leaf
You hurry
To the blackness
And the blankets
To lay down an impression
In your loneliness

The past few nights I’ve been checking out the nightclub scene in Vientiane. It is excruciating for me to go to these places. Over the years, I have ruined my ears with concerts and clubs; I now prefer a quieter environment where I can talk and listen. I swore off going to nightclubs back in 2003 when I left a club called Loft 6 in Vancouver only moments before some “gangsters” showed up and shot a few people – I took this as a warning and decided my clubbing days were over.

However, in my research here in Laos, it is necessary that I get at least a cursory understanding of the club scene in Vientiane. In the city center, there are a few such as Baw Pen Yang and Don Chan Palace. Outside of the center there are quite a few more clubs which cater mostly to Laos people with only a few falang. One place is called Top Dance near That Luang, another is called The Future on the northern end of the city, I can’t remember the names of the others. Most clubs have at least some degree of sex tourism going on. This is something I have a hard time watching and a hard time looking away. Last night, after Linkin’ Park, Cranberries remix, the very popular Happy Birthday and slew of other bad songs, this was the scene.

Some wealthy businessmen had ordered about a half dozen girls-for-hire to join them at one club. The girls were in their early twenties, the businessmen in their fifties. One of the men had found one of the selections suitable. The other two I think were a little disappointed with their choices. As the closing lights grew near, the two unsatisfied men began looking to neighboring tables for better selections. This was bad enough, but from the girl’s side, it was worse.

As each girl realized they would not be selected, they began looking around for who else might be interested in an hour or two contract. The look in their eyes – their very business like eyes – made me quite sad. My friend leaned over to me and said “If I could save just one…” I shook my head. There is no saving the worker until the market changes and company closes its doors.

Go to a nightclub. Listen to the music. Chat with your friends. Have a few drinks. Meet some people. Dance. When the closing lights come on, go home. Go home alone and play with yourself if you really need it. In the morning, think about why investing in temporary slavery would have been only you ‘laying down an impression in your loneliness’.