Bangkok: In One Half Hour

A fellow blogger posts a nice Ode to Chao Phraya here. Hats off to him. I put up a rainbow shot on the river here.





My partner said, "You always go to the river", so there is an attraction beyond the coolness of temperature. The water swirls with my dreams down to the sea.

A Chinatown Stroll

I would venture to say I spend 80% of my time alone, not in some “woe is me, pathetic way,” but as a confident, curious and somewhat reflective state. I can go for hours looking for good light for a photograph, and this day I ran into a guy twice who was doing the same with a old Rolli camera, and the second time he waited for me to shoot and get out of the way for his shot. We shared a common goal, and yet we never spoke. I ran into two other people that day doing different things alone, one was a writer where I stopped for a drink, and a smoker…smoking his way into non-being. Or at least trying to. The woman with her child was more than happy to let me photograph the two of them, after her small son took a photo of me with her camera phone. That was cute and funny, making for a short bond of humanity between us.





I run into people who quickly figure out I no longer the tourist, as foreign as I am and try to bridge the gap. I am friendly and try to talk to people, not shy. I sometimes offer help to other tourists when asked or when it obvious that they are lost. We are lost in one way or another. Can we take being lost as an asset to spend carefully? Where everything we encounter is new, and should be savored. It can be a temporary way to get out of our body, separating our mind. Sometimes our feelings can not be described. So much life we really don’t know what is next, and we sometimes hold tightly to what we do have, presently. The familiar. We do this in an effort to stop change or fear of the unknown. This is the clinging delusion that Buddha spoke of. Meditation will help bring some positive wisdom to your unease.

A Simple Clear Day Conclusion

A wonderful sunset after a clear day, brought to us not by Kodak but by afternoon rains almost every day. The kind of day when you rediscover happily again, your love of life. I had a late lunch of soup, in an almost empty outdoor restaurant. I played with their new cute puppy with a razor back black line on his spine. His new teeth cut my hand but it was all done in play. He never meant to hurt and we were busy playing. I luckily had some alcohol hand cleaner, so I don’t worry. Great inexpensive soup so I ordered a second one. My favorite soup: rice noodles, pork, and pork blood with lots of dried chili.
Then off to meditate at temple, right as the rains started. They have Pali prayers with Dhamma talks in Thai ongoing while they have meditation cushions laid out. Prostrate for the bones that supposed are Buddha’s, but if that is so… he was giant bigger than a mastodon with all the places that claim this. They mean well, but we don’t really need bones just more meditation to try out the teaching’s wisdom in our heart against our experience. This right in the middle of busy Bangkok, which makes even more special. Once in a beautiful jungle setting that has since been torn down for shopping malls, but you almost would not know it while there. Except for the huge buildings that squeeze the land that Buddha’s peace hold. In a strange way I would like to be around when the malls disintegrate, which here happen faster than the temples, luckily. Everything is impermanent; all you have to do is look at your face in the mirror each day. Proof is right in front of you. If you still don’t believe, just grab a five-year old photo of you. Hey, where was that 10 yr old kid you were once? Poof.

WHOOSH —Scary Memories

I know this may seem way off my current subjects, but memories come to you in weird ways... at off times. I was at the gym listening to a podcast of a favorite show, ‘Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!” while running and a guest was telling a story...not too unlike mine. Many years ago I joined the cub scouts, I think around 7 or 8 yrs old mainly to get away from my father. I am not really a "joiner," and have learned to like myself. I did not really like it the organization and especially the Christian based ideals masked to cover up the suburban nightmare that lay in wait, outside. They really preached hatred about who I am from birth. But I rarely saw anything in life that said I was ok by society standards, so I was swallowing my pride, once again. Not but about three months into it, the den mother quit to have a baby, or she fell off the wagon and my mom took it over. Now, it is bad enough being gay, but then your Mom is the den mother(I don’t know there was no fathers involved). I was outcast times two! I stuck with it for a year then quit. But in that time my Mom was a den mother, she got it into her head it would be a good field trip to take us to the downtown jail through the underground passageway from the courthouse. Finding some sadistic Guard or off duty policeman to show us around, and lock us each individually into a jail cell to scare us. I really can’t recall if he did show us an electric chair or not, because I have seen so many on TV, that it know seems like my memory. This, I later found out was because one cub was stealing, and it seemed like a good idea. It was at this time that I lost a prize possession, an antique copper Indian arm band, given to me by my best friend, Mark. He was America Indian and it was his grandfathers arm band who was dead. My Mom did not know at the time how sensitive and fragile I was, and it was for the good of our den. But I will never forget walking in a dark and steamy pipes passageway into hell. That jail was dark and dirty and spoke of unseen crimes. A journey that showed me yet another dark part of human existence and it worked for me. I have never been to jail!
jail photo courtesy of http://www.marlerblog.com

HOME — a film by Yann Arthus - Bertrand

Once we realize the impermanence of this world we will start to take care of it.
Watch the beauty of our Home.

Meds or Reds

“It’s a rainy night in Georgia” Ugh, ‘cuse me, I mean Bangkok. When the mind gets tight, the meditation helps put everything in perspective. It allows you to separate mind and body sometimes and other times bring it all into sync. The rain becomes something that happens and you just are not attached to how it makes you feel. Divorced from strong feelings you just see it symbolizes impermanence and the cycle of life. After a two hour meditation at a temple, I just floated down the river and back home just barely attached to the body I often call home. The reds came out in full force, while Ms. Cardboard Wai was still waiting for a ride.

Inside Looking Out, an Understanding

While doing walking meditation in a park that I learned while being a novice, something came to me. As I said to a friend, “All it is ...is deliberately and consciously being aware of every single movement...so it will transfer in time to everything you do. Leading to a keener mental awareness of every thing we do, from talking to our actions. So you can see in advance how your actions or speech will affect those around you. And thus, hopefully wisdom. Most of the time, they do it walking, then standing and seated last, a natural progression to quiet the mind down.” This mindfulness is at the heart of Thai Buddhism.


What I saw at the Wat where I resided, school kids coming for dhamma lessons, meditation, along with Pali. I saw families join them in back, or help with food. I saw new monks being ordained, and the sangha feeding the monks. I witnessed a lot of what comprises Thai Buddhism, and started to form a real understanding of why the language is also based on Buddha’s teachings. And how most everything is formed by this exposure in Thai’s day-to-day life. It just clicked. I had just a small taste, but at least now I feel I know a little more of my partner’s internal existence. I know I way far from knowing it all, but even this one experience has helped me understand a little bit more. Impermanence has shaped their lives along with wisdom from respected monks. Mindfulness is at the heart of it all and leads to more patience. I would become a novice again for longer time frame. This has also helped to quash my previous idea that Buddhism here is more about the rituals, which it is not. That offerings are based on merit and also have the unique capacity to help cut-down on our self-cherishing. I have gone four times to meditate during the day at various Wat’s that have spaces designated for this, some with ongoing dhamma talks, some just silent. Maybe I can learn all the Pali chants.