Monday, March 18, 2013

I'm not cooked yet


3/14/13

Amideast

Dear Mr. Norris,

I wish to express my great interest in teaching with Amideast in Casablanca.   

3.15.13

That’s as far as I got with this one.  It would be cool to work in Casablanca.  So what’s holding you back?  Are you kidding?  I don’t have a clean shirt, no shoes, one thin green silk tie, pants that are too long, and this outfit is legit, not that my previous employers were anything but legit in their own eccentricities.

How bout working for an ngo in Kathmandu?  And with a salary of 20,000rs a month, or $200 bucks.  I’ll get a visa if that is more important and I will live in a major city that is quite, how do you say it compassionately? You’re tough to please, ya know that?

The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying.  A nice companion to Mother Teresa if that’s possible.  Taking on suffering like only a nun can and accepting the inevitability of it. I will work for such a sum if at least there is a clean room and toilet to come home to.  Not even the Albanian lady could do her work without a roof.  We will see. 

Outside is calling.  Yesterday’s late afternoon storm was an adrenaline rush and taking photos at the helicopter pad you had to brace yourself for a Himalayan pummel .  All is calm now.  The spirit of the home is calmer as well.  Give each other space and avoid drinking.  Save it for Sunday.  St. Pats.  How many enjoyable days have you had on this day?  Not as many as I’d hoped. 

Many people ask how I wound up here and few get the story.  Madhu the journalist and her German husband and their little boy got the coincidences and Tibetan shaman visit story, albeit was brief.  Four years ago a spirit who calls himself Job led me to an old man in a camp. 

I have to choose what I must believe?  Mother Teresa vs The Tibetans.  Jesus Mary and Om. 

3.16.13

The sun is rising at least two minutes earlier every other day.  A six twenty four beginning, earlier this week I told a tourist six thirty.  Time changes because of its impermanent and relative nature.  There’s no need to fret how this day will turn out, you can predict it with some accuracy but that confident assessment can’t account for what you will think unless you make an effort to discipline. 

Living on this mountain has been a retreat from the west though the west is like Cruella Daville’s fingers always trying to pull you back and she’s here.  Cruella. 

“Time is short I’m sure there must be something more”

Well he never said what that more would be but I am under no spell anymore.  Find Mr Higgs and tell him who gives a shit. 

No, you thought you might be a ghost, you didn’t get to heaven but you made it close.

For four years I haven’t figured out who these lame ass characters are.  Do you think you’re a ghost?  One of those in Tibetan Buddhism’s contemporary realms found on Venice Beach and Sydney?  And why speak of heaven in the past tense?  You know something we don’t know, I’d wager your ability to predict future events is limited. 

Limited spirit power, trust you not.  I didn’t ask you to come in, dude, and you certainly weren’t behind me returning for a puja to exercise my right to exorcise you for such a misleading. Please Lord of Heaven enlightenment is supposed to be blissful.  I should go up and help Maya, Laxman is in Pokhara, the internet is down, a good thing sometimes, Suraksha put make-up on Prisma, Didi is walking around with large heavy things on her back, and paragliders whoop and holler. 

Carl the Cock has regained some strength after he was given a medicine of hot water and panadol last night.  On the floor outside the toilet he sat with a plate of flattened rice in front of him and his beak would go down as if to eat but he’d just stare at it and then he’d raise his head again.  This morning he was on Ramesh’s porch looking down on us and crowing  “I am not cooked yet!”.

For crying out loud how can I choose between two faiths?  I was born and raised Catholic.  I am a Catholic, for better or worse.  This spirit, shit, he’s still here.  He’s a Buddhist or a Bon or a Daoist, I’ll believe what I believe and you believe what you believe but for crying out loud, if this means you gotta get out of my head, then out!  Out.  Leave.  This confusion, the contradictions are leaving me adrift up in the rare air.  You heard Nyima, he was asking me, not you, to choose.  

It does beg another thought about going undercover, unaware of course and only learned in hindsight, in the Evangelical world.  Who planned that? And who were you named after?  That’s a lot of weight on one’s shoulders ya know, in the living room there was a portrait of three John’s, JFK, Pope John the 23rd, and John the Baptist.”  Not the John who was the best friend of Jesus?  Well they all came from the one whom Jesus loved most.  That is one hellava name to live up to.  Like Shiva?  Ah I don’t know.  Maybe. And how are ya doing?  I don’t think I’m doing too well in the outside world, but it’s just fine here, for now.  Time to go up. 

9:16pm

I violated a principle I’ve held since I started journaling and later and that I was to never write about the people I worked or lived with.  In the Emirates I didn’t write about my close friends because I respected privacy (and then there was only moleskine) and here I let my emotions and frustrations come out here.   The spirit brought me here for a reason and despite the spirit being in the dog house since nothing happened in December, I had (have) to trust all things happened (happen) for a reason.  Sharing my frustrations here is ok I think however if it involves someone in this family I really must work it out in the respectful arena of the home and not put it here.  I mean really who wants to read of someone elses troubles?  Not me. Mea Culpa

3.17.13

Hopeless helpless. ADNOC would like an interview in Dallas.  How presumptuous.  I’m really stranded here.  I don’t know how worse things can get.  Oh they will get a lot worse if you throw yourself out of room eight.  Why would I do that you say, such despair on St. Patricks Day.  Is there a reason to drink at least I know the next day nothing has improved. 

I want to enter the cathedral of nothingness.  No dependency, no attachment.  Alone with nothing. 

8:50pm.  I will have to read Sogyal Rinpoche’s chapter on meditation again because it was good, common sense good.  No Christian can deny that cleaning the head of all that is unhelpful is one of many steps to getting close to God, and where is God but within each of us. 

Two Russians check in late and then watch the approaching storm from the dining room.  The internet weather indicators have been almost right on every call.  This morning I told Suraksha to take an umbrella to school because it was going to rain but didn’t she run up the mountain to avoid it. 

I managed to get one beer on this holiday in the west, while here no one knows and no one cares and why should they? 

Before we blow out the candles Carl the Cock appears to be his old self and there is no reason to bring in the lady chicks because today he was with the hen above and the hen below.  Carl lives up to his name I say, and was unable to be corralled when the wind howled and the black sky approached in a slow and menacing way so he was cooped up with Prem Maya’s hen. 

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