The Psychologist and Anna

3.18.13

A sore throat begins just two days after finishing a week’s worth of Augmentin.  A beer before bed and six trips to pee in the jungle without enough clothes on in the chilly night probably contributed.  A simmering headache is also present.  The skies are clear and thus the Himalayas are brilliant.  The Russian ladies in room one were so disappointed when they arrived last night in a violent squall and were so happy with Lamjung and Annapurna this morning.  Goodbye ladies mozaltov  to your grandchildren!

The moment between exhaling and inhaling is a gap and here in this gap is the place where you meditate.  Meditating became increasingly difficult today when I started feeling icky and when I couldn’t get a Pearl Jam song out of my head, having heard only half of Betterman.  Why was it so stuck I don’t know.  Yesterday there was plenty of time in the sun to practice and distractions weren’t too hard to keep out.

Marcus from Germany and Anna from Russia, newly married and living in Basel.  It is always difficult to explain the unexplainable without mentioning the sacred plant.  You have to include it because it is so integral in the events.  There would be no coincidences, there wouldn’t have been a spirit possession-epiphany-enlightenment-overdose without brownies and still I feel bringing it up discredits all the experience.  And that can’t be right. 

Then again you’re still alive, well into 2013.  Hey Obama is going to the Holy Land.  Jesus will stand on the Mt of Olives and…and…blowing smoke.  Shame on me.  You want to believe, you wish your illusions would become reality.  Of course but thinking about this is beyond the illusory and where the deluded wind up at St. Vincent De Paul Soup Kitchens murmuring incoherent gospels. 

8:20pm  All the rooms are full.  The newlyweds, two Australians,  two happy and tipsy Japanese women,  the English woman in room two and two solos, one from Indonesia and a pretty gal from Shanghai who came into the kitchen and sat down with us while we ate after everyone else got their meals.  I thought for a minute she was stoned but why can’t she be just happy and silly without due cause? 

The English woman and a Nepali man who was her guide two days ago are sitting next to room eight and they walk back and forth smoking.  I’ll never sleep as long as I can their voices resonate through the walls.  No internet has been available today and I’d sure like it now.

I told Marcus when I was young I remember waking up in different parts of the house and at around twelve years old I woke up in the dark basement and was so frightened and subsequently angry I rarely dreamed again for the next 35 years and I rarely dream now.

Then I remembered Nyima’s medium telling me the 2700 year old spirit possessed me because my own spirit left.  Did my spirit leave when I was 12?  I will certainly go off the cliff if I think about this for much longer. 

If the higher powers wanted me dead they should go ahead and do it.  There is no fear in death, and right now there’s no fear of dying alone.  If it happens it happens and what am I going to gain from reading the Tibetan book on living and dying if I want death.  Ok I want living, no that’s not true, life doesn’t matter, it is what it is.  If it isn’t shared with someone it’s just playing with someone else’s kids. 

3.19.13

‘I have a good heart, I help you,’  if you help and you expect nothing in return you have a good heart. Every thought and action and intention is accountable.  Intentions.  What is your intent?  What are my intentions?  Osho Goldfarb had the word intention tattooed on his arm. 

The crazy dog barks away.  His bark is all I hear and it distracts any attempts to meditate.  What am I left with, thinking.  Interview questions.  Krashen.  Incomprehensible input.  Who learns and becomes crazy.  The building blocks of knowledge require previous knowledge.  Hindsight.  Predestination and Free Will.  It’s not complicated if you slow down.

The second straight day without internet, checking boxscores, headlines, social shmedia, jobs, so many in Japan.  Japan.  It would be nice to meet a Japanese man or woman here and talk about working in their country.  Where are those happy middle aged Japanese women who can write Nepalese (!!), oh I hear, they’re in room six, waiting for the sun to heat up the water so they can shower.  The Australian blonde in room five thanked Maya for the first hot shower in three days, “It was ah-mIz-ing”.  I shaved in room one when the Indonesian checked out and used a half bucket of cold water to wash the hair.   

And should I go to the capital in two days about a job?  Many ends loose with the desert folks, the oil company folks, Antalya wanes unfortunately only because September is a lifetime away.  Before the Japanese ladies left I did ask them about age discrimination and they confirmed that is the practice. 

A woman below the railing cuts the grass.  Don’t wonder about those white stained leaves is just toothpaste.  The crazy dog’s bell rings when he barks and I spent four hours helping Maya prepare meals and chasing Ramesh’s gold chicken from digging up the gardens.  A sore neck, fatigue settles in but sunset approaches. Marcus and Anna went looking for a quieter place, odd so many people checked in last night and only two remain today.  The steps to the top have been quiet except for the mountain ladies all jockeying for water at the tap, water that came strong this afternoon but has slowed down.