In the ripe age of 23 I've had the privilege to explore the world beyond the United States of America. So in the newest adventure, Thailand was calling me. But due to visa restrictions, I wasn't allowed to enter the country until my teaching orientation. Then I found this incredible yoga and meditation center. . .in Cambodia. . . and it just seemed right. Why not, you know?
In a mere two weeks I've touched base with myself and have been truly inspired by these amazing people. So I'd like to share with you some of my most special moments. Maybe, open your eyes up to the beauty of a place that you only recollect from Geography class. Maybe, spur you to drop your story and give life a new perspective. Just, maybe.
Yoga nidra is a state of mind between wakefulness and sleep that opens deep phases of the consciousness. Twice a week we practiced this by listening to an audio instruction while we remained in corpse pose, or savasana. Stillness in meditation was very challenging for me.
But one night I felt myself finally connecting to the practice and something very unusual happened. I felt something touch my third eye. And I slowly gazed the room, wondering which teacher was rubbing our foreheads. But no one was standing, everyone was in this yogic sleep. So at dinner I shared this strange occurrence, I was scared beyond belief that I had some out-of-body experience. Then, one of the girls who had been sitting next to me during the practice interjected that a frog jumped on her stomach and must have landed on me. I said, oh well, just a frog. And then I thought about the chances of this creature jumping directly on my gate of higher consciousness. I realized, no, not just a frog.I took it as a sign. Someone sent a band to my house, and it started playing at five in the morning. I took this as a sign God wanted me to sing! Then the moon joined in, and a few of the tenor-voiced stars, and the earth offered its lovely belly as a drum. Before I knew it, I realized all human beings could be happy if they just had a few music lessons from a sweet old Maestro like Hafiz.
The retreat is situated among the Bakong village, outside of the Siem Reap city. There is a magnificent Bakong temple, connected with the greater Angkor Wat park, the largest religious monument in the world. But this structure is off the beaten path and often overlooked by tourists. One morning I biked with my friend to take in the sunrise from the vantage of this great pyramid-not exactly following the park regulations. And from high above we watched the miniature monk sweeping the red dirt floor. And we waited for the arrival of a new day. It was one of the most beautiful things I've experienced in my life. Total silence. Total serenity. Deep colors emanating from the sky. Just us, on top of this energy source dating back to the 9th century AD.
Even after all this time, the Sun never says to the Earth, "You owe me." Look what happens with a love like that, it lights the whole sky. -Hafiz
We have a one-hour dharma talk daily, usually regarding the meditation practice or a greater explanation of yoga. I've learned in these talks how yoga, meaning union, is so much more than the trendy poses. It reaches far beyond the asana.
A heart full of love and compassion is the main source of inner strength, will power, happiness, and mental tranquility. -Dalai Lama
A few days before I left we had a class on generating compassion. We each shared a struggle in our lives, and then we randomly picked someone's name and wrote a compassionate letter to them pertaining to the story they shared. My struggle is that I feel guilty not pursuing the professional world. I feel a burden, even, in not taking part in the 9 to 5 culture. And as I read the anonymous letter, I felt completely understood. The most touching line was, "you'll experience a lot more in life than the ones who didn't go out exploring the world." I felt completely at peace. And as everyone shared their struggles, I started to realize that we are all self-conscious. We all think we have something wrong with us.
It can sometimes get a bit claustrophobic at Hariharalaya. I liked to provide myself a daily reminder that I was in Cambodia by breaching the gates and taking a ride down the red dirt road. One afternoon a group of us geared up the bikes to visit the trade shops where the Khmer's make scarves, pottery, and artwork. As we passed through the village we received the biggest smiles and much laughter in response to our foreign pronunciation of hello, pronounced Sues-Day. These far stretched smiles are everywhere in the village. From the baby playing in the trash to the old lady in her garden.
On this special day we witnessed a family in the front yard creating commotion with a tree. And as they waved us over, we looped back to interact. And the kids passed us some version of lychee fruit, which were sour to the taste like candy Warheads. And the eldest man clapped his hands together and shook my hands as I just beamed at him. These Khmer families live off very little money, but center their lives on sharing. Sharing anything they have. A kindness I have just started to understand.
I want to live simply. I want to sit by the window when it rains and read books I'll never be tested on. I want to paint because I want to, not because I've got something to prove. I want to listen to my body, fall asleep when the moon is high and wake up slowly with no place to rush off to. I want not to be governed by money or clocks or any of the artificial restraints that humanity imposes on itself. I just want to be boundless and infinite.
I arrived in Siem Reap on the final day of the Chinese New Year, a holiday that the Khmer's fully celebrate. I thought I had missed all of the celebrations but I wasn't too worried because I was enjoying living in the moment. One afternoon we heard loud music coming from the streets, which wasn't that strange because there is always music of some sort booming, even throughout the night. But my friend and I decided to check it out and took part in the most magical experience.
Each house left a bucket of water with flowers floating in them at the end of their road. I had recognized this earlier in the day, but thought it must be part of a funeral ceremony. In actuality, it was in celebration of the end of the New Year. So at the end of our road we stood together, mostly Khmer staff and a few foreigners, as monks walked down the road stopping at each house to bless the water. With no idea how such a ceremony occurs, I just followed the others. We all bowed down to the monks, and as they chanted, they started splashing water on us. And not just a light rinse, they soaked us, poured it all over us. And we were all just smiling with our heads down. It was the coolest thing I have ever experienced, to be so connected to such a magical tradition. Not witness it on the television. Not pay to take part of it. To just be there.
And the best thing of all? I got to share it with my favorite Khmer staff, this older lady who shares hugs with me daily. She doesn't speak a lick of English, but we just stare into each others eyes and smile and sway. She was standing at the front of the ceremony and as she turned around to bask in the holy water, we latched eyes, and I could sense how happy she was because I was there. We embraced in the most magical way, I thought, "this is what heaven must feel like."
1-2-ME & You finally understand the message you communicate with another human being has nothing to do with what you say, it has nothing to do with the look on the musculature of your face. It's much deeper than that, much deeper! It's the vibrations that emanate from you!
(Hanuman Foundation)
No comments:
Post a Comment