Those are probably the exact words I said to the lady at the baggage drop

"Cool I'm just gonna take my bag and uhh go". Those are probably the exact words I said to the lady at the baggage drop at Penang international airport

It's not the 31st today, it's the 30th.
The flight is on the 31st. The 31st is tomorrow.
Today is the 30th.

My plan was superb, meticulous, spot on.
My discipline was unmatched - not lying in bed a single moment more. I had done everything right except for one thing - I thought I was going to fly out today.

I got out my phone and did a search for cheap accommodation close to the airport.
There's a reason why people can successfully operate hotels close to the airport and far away from anything awesome. It's probably because suckers like me either can't or don't want to travel all the way to where the cheap places are.

I found a budget hotel with a room costing around x4 what I'd normally pay. Trying to make the most of the situation I realised i had technically jumped the queue for tomorrow! Yay, Silver linings!

I booked a Grab ride from outside the departure area as I was already basically there. The driver, already at the airport drove an entire circuit of the airport loop, making his way from arrivals, through departures and then back to arrivals probably confused as to why someone would go out of their way up to the departure area on the 1st floor in order to leave the airport.
Realising this guy was clearly stumped, I cancelled and booked another one. I kept the conversation to a minimum so that he wouldn't find out how retarded I actually am.

I didn't have a fake story to explain the situation. How do you explain getting picked up at the airport with a baggage tag for tomorrows flight? "So basically in New Zealand we're actually a few hours ahead of Malaysia and I when I left to go to the airport I switched over to New Zealand time. Buzzy aye!". That's probably the best I could muster up.

I already told him I'd been backpacking for 4 1/2 months already and I wasn't too keen on hearing him make a comment regarding how the fuck I'd made it this far.

To be fair I was asking myself the same question.

Singapore here I come.

(FYI if you're flying Air Asia, you need to print off a boarding pass, despite what anyone tells you. I don't care if he speaks Chinese or Malay, don't take the risk, don't stand in line twice)

(Ainur, thanks for your kind support. It's good to know my 'misfortunes' can be of benefit to others. Judge me - I don't care.)

I swear it's not a cult but I totally recommend it! Part 5

For 10 Days I signed up to live like a monk, dedicating my time to learning the 'Goenka' Vipassana method of meditation. 

I had gotten used to the lifestyle after just a few days. In fact I had gotten so used to the sound of the waking-up bell go off in the dark that several times I actually hallucinated/dreamt the morning wake-up bell before rising out of bed, taking a shower, getting dressed and hanging around outside before realising that it was around 01:00am in the morning.

P5 - my room

The food was 100% vegetarian and was served buffet style. I had my own room with ensuite. I had gotten somewhat used to avoiding communication with the 45 or so other people living in close proximity with me. Each day I would go for short walks around the facility and stare at things for ages like a stoner - and it was normal. (In some ways the effects of prolonged silent meditation had mimicked the effect of certain drugs although the comparison would be like as walking is to riding an aeroplane.)  I had completely let go any thoughts about my phone and communication with anyone from the outside world. I didn't even want to think about opening up Facebook or checking my emails.Although we were situated in the middle of a palm oil plantation far away from any major town, you could hear the sound of motorbikes and freight trucks passing by the motorway nearby and I would begin to think of what the 'real world' was like beyond those gates.
I had developed this perspective of the outside world as being a cruel, fast moving, immoral place, only concerned about money, with no room for a life of tranquillity. Whatever purity of mind which I had managed to scrape together during these few days was surely going to evaporate the moment I stepped foot in Kuala Lumpur. I began to think of all the people out there living in ignorance; guided by unconscious thought, constantly seeking out pleasure and self gain.

Day 11 felt like graduation day. We all felt so happy and eager to discuss our experiences of the past 10 days. It really did feel like graduation because now I had to to go out into the real world knowing that although I had learned a lot, I still didn't know shit.

When our phones and other devices were returned to us I actually felt sad. For so long this small computer had almost been like an extension of my body. I had gone so long without it and felt free from it's addictive draw.

Upon returning to Kuala Lumpur I went to Mcdonalds for lunch with a fellow meditator. I was eager to see if my taste perception of meat had changed. We both agreed the chicken had a slimy texture to it but weren't sure if that was how chicken had always been or whether it was just a Mcdonalds thing! 

One of the perhaps unintended physical changes I noticed was my appetite and what I eat. During the course you are served 2 meals (breakfast and lunch). Dinner consists of a few pieces of fruit. You might think that once I got out that my appetite would suddenly increase to make up the calorie reduction but it perhaps did the opposite.  It's only been a week since the course ended and on a number of days I have reduced my meals to 1 or 2 per day. My desire for processed foods has diminished greatly, and my consumption of meat is mostly as a nutritional requirement or due to a lack of alternative options. 

Those 10 days had obviously changed my perspective and in turn how I act. I have learned to become more mindful and observant of my thoughts and emotions. It has helped me understand the human condition and as a result allowed me to both recognise my own suffering and that of others to a certain degree. I feel more at peace during any given moment. This is not to say I am now a perfect being, and I realise I have a lot more to learn but I recognise that steps have been taken towards a particular direction. The 10 day retreat was never meant to result in enlightenment but rather give you the opportunity to stop everything and observe yourself properly for once. Whether you continue what you started is the choice that every 'graduate' must make upon re-entry into the outside world. It's a way of life...

---

Feel free to ask me anything

https://www.dhamma.org/en/index

I swear it's not a cult but I totally recommend it! Part 4

For 10 Days I signed up to live like a monk, dedicating my time to learning the 'Goenka' Vipassana method of meditation. 

Each night we would assemble in the mini hall for a 1 1/2 hour discourse from Mr Goenka.

Mr Goenka passed away in 2013 but his legacy lives on through his Vipassana course and his dhamma video lectures from the 1970s. All the lectures are available on Youtube. but here's the first one if you were curious.

"You are to keep on working very diligently ... continuously..."

If there's anything which gives off indoctrination camp vibes it's these daily discourses. Anyone unfamiliar with the retreat who just so happened to walk into the room would see a bunch of people sitting on plastic chairs with ID numbers pegged onto the back, watching a video of an old Burmese guy from the 1970's. It's not a cult of personality and the reasoning behind the direct teachings of Mr Goenka I believe keeps things consistent without leaving room for misinterpretation or variation by teachers running the programme. - Similar to the concept of Theravada Buddhism with the sole recognition of the Pali texts.

As helpful and as motivational as they were, I still faced the fact that unless I discovered these things for myself, everything would essentially go in one ear and out the other. ( Funnily enough Mr Goenka actually mentioned this in one of his discourses - I discovered for myself later on that discovering things yourself was the only way to truly know something). 

It was day 7 and so far I had been managing to stay afloat. Each day, Mr Goenka would progress onto the next stage of our practice but I had come across a roadblock. I booked an appointment with the head teacher to discuss my issues. What they were exactly is irrelevant but I remember he said that I should remain equanimous, equanimous towards everything.

I had heard this word often - perhaps a dozen times each day. Every session I was told not to feel craving or aversion. You know how someone tells you something over and over again and although you have it stuck in your mind, you never actually follow that advice? This was me.

In my own mind I was not reacting negatively to the discomfort but in practice I still held feelings of aversion. I would be sitting there writhing in agony on the inside while I sat perfectly still.

On day 8 it finally clicked and I realised my own contradictory behaviour. Being mindful applies to every moment, not just when things are going good. The real test of your understanding is when you're undergoing stress and discomfort.  I realised I was not impartial at all. 

I was getting frustrated at my inability to progress with my meditation practice and keep up. I would spend hours sitting there trying really hard to relax my mind and sharpen my perception. It doesn't matter what you're craving - craving is craving - this behaviour applies to everything and in wanting not to want, I had indeed been wanting. This type of thinking can drive a person into a loop of thought and the only way to break out of this is to simply act...to simply be.(Shout out to Alan Watts and his piece on outwitting the devil)

Stop 'trying' and just be.

                                   

If there was one thing that I took away from this retreat it was this. The concept is so simple and can be applied to so many of the difficulties we have in life but we often overlook it due to how simple it is. I'm not new to this idea yet I had never been placed in a situation which would really test my understanding and my ability to apply it in real life.

I realised that the discomfort was always going to be there and that trying to escape it within my mind was only going to prolong my suffering.  I didn't try and 'cope' or distract myself but rather I did the opposite - I went 'into' the discomfort and acknowledged it as something which was simply happening. 

From this point my perspective on my time here had changed. Rather than being something I 'had' to persevere, I began to see the facility as the perfect environment to detach ourselves from the concerns and responsibilities of the 'outside world'. I realised how conducive this environment was for the peace of mind required for starting a meditation practice. I didn't make a complete 180 degree turn in my opinion of the place. To a certain degree I was still longing for the day we would be released, however my perspective had changed enough for me to perceive these last days as a valuable opportunity which mustn't be squandered.

The last 3 days saw a fresh burst of optimism and curious speculation jump onto the scene. Not only was there the thought of being released but also how and whether I could integrate back into society after staying at an intensive meditation retreat. How would I perceive the outside world after this? Had I lost my social skills? Would my peace of mind disintegrate immediately the moment I stepped foot in Kuala Lumpur?

I swear it's not a cult but I totally recommend it! Part 3

For 10 Days I signed up to live like a monk, dedicating my time to learning the 'Goenka' Vipassana method of meditation. 

Meditation Cells at Dhamma Malaya

"I feel as if I am just coping with trying to keep my head above water. Part of me wishes I never signed up. For some reason I imagine prison to be a more pleasant experience. Every opportunity I get, I go to my room, lie down on the bed and stare at the wall or think about sex"

Those are the words I wrote down on day 4 after the first 'sitting of strong determination'. During these 1 hour sittings which are held 3 times per day you are asked not to change your posture or make any large movements. Attendance is compulsory and when we were told this was to be a regular thing, I didn't quite know how to react.

I could barely handle 20 minutes and now I had to triple that?? 

(For those who were wondering how I wrote this down - I had a small notebook and pencil which I smuggled in, just in case I experienced a divine revelation. It was only intended for extreme situations)

I managed 30 minutes during my first sitting. I sat there breathing heavily, clenching my muscles in order to cope with what I believe was the most uncomfortable I have ever felt in my life. Every second that passed was one step towards the end but it was like walking along a path blindfolded and not knowing when it was going to end. As I was sitting there I thought about a loved one and imagined that she was in great danger, and that by not moving or opening my eyes I was protecting her.  

I know this sounds like a really cheesy coping mechanism but at the time it really felt like I was putting my body on the line in order to save someone else. (Shout out to Joe Rogan for mentioning that one)

 At 55 minutes in the chanting started. A wave of tingling sensations shot down my neck and through my spine. This was the end. This was the light at the end of the tunnel.

I went back to my room thinking about how I wasn't even half way through the course. Technically we had just begun what we were here to do and I was already struggling.

A few hours later the gong sounded and we were back in the meditation hall for our final sitting of strong determination session of the day. This time I had vowed to remain sitting in the same posture no matter what. We began. I remember this particular session as being difficult but not as much more than the first one. Again I used my 'self sacrifice' visualisation technique to keep me on track but this time it didn't feel as extreme. Don't get me wrong I was sitting there suffering but this time I didn't have to clench my entire upper body to cope with the pain.

The concluding chant sounded and again it sent a wave of tingling down my spine. The pain began to subside and it gave way to feelings of happiness. I sat there for a minute afterwards unable to contain my smiling. I don't know exactly was so funny but I'm sure I gave the impression that either I had just attained satori or I had broken my brain and become a smiling idiot. My knees hurt and I was unable to walk properly for the next 10 minutes but for some reason I felt like I could go back and do it all over again. It had all felt somewhat refreshing in a mental sense.

I was beginning to wonder whether I was rewiring my brain to seek pain as a form of pleasure...

I didn't realise it at the time but this was the beginning of the first lesson I would learn during my 10 days.  Knowledge by acquaintance is one of the best teachers out there. Instead of learning about external objects or ideas, I was learning about how my mind operates.

An operating room for the mind.
Fun times.

I swear it's not a cult but I totally recommend it! Part 2

For 10 Days I signed up to live like a monk, dedicating my time to learning the 'Goenka' Vipassana method of meditation. 

We were led single file in the dark along a paved brick path through to the meditation hall. The meditation hall was a large square room with polished marble floors and blue cushions arranged in a grid facing the front of the room where there lay two elevated platforms for the two teachers.


On the left side of the hall sat the males, and on the right sat the females. The gender segregation necessitated a separate male and female teacher complete with their own assistant teachers and staff who sat off to the side like a kings retinue.


We sat cross legged on the cushions in silence for a moment.
Then the theravada chanting began. S.N Goenkas croaky deep voice sounded through the wall mounted speakers.



"Ananta punya-mayi, ananta guna-mayi,

Buddha ki nirvana-dhatu,

dharma-dhatu, bodhi-dhatu!

Sisapara jage pratiksana..."


The initiation ceremony began with the recital of an oath to maintain certain precepts before being officially inducted into the course. Our vow of 'noble silence' had begun and the course had officially started although the real work would begin tomorrow morning at 04:30.

The gong sounded at 04:00am the following morning and I made my way over to the meditation hall to sit in silence for 2 hours.

By the end of the first day I had done around 8 hours of meditation and 1 hour of Goenka's video discourse. Thoughts of despair had already began to creep into my mind. This retreat was too intense. Somehow it seemed easy enough on paper but in practice, every moment was agony.

I had some experience with meditation prior to arriving here although it was only ever a maximum 15 or 20 minutes per day.  This was like making the jump from a 100 meter dash to a full marathon without really preparing for it.


My mind was fixated on how difficult the day had been and the fact that this was only 1/10th of what was to come. The passage of time had slowed right down here and it didn't help that during almost every moment I was desperately wanting time to pass by as quickly as possible.

For the first few days at every possible moment I would go to my room and try fall asleep. It was my only escape. Sleeping was the only thing I could do to numb the mental discomfort of having to sit in silence for hours every day.


'Im so bad at this'

'I'm not cut out for meditation'

'I'm not disciplined enough'

'I'm reckless and foolish for thinking I could even do this'

'This is the biggest mistake I've made in my life'


These were all thoughts which seemed to repeat over again as my mind tried to justify my aversion towards the entire programme.  My romanticised ideals about living as a monk in seclusion were shattered.

That said, I persevered if only for avoiding the regret of not completing the course in its entirety. It would be like going for a hike up a mountain and then turning back halfway through because you felt a bit tired. This was no different and so I put my head down and grinded my way through.

On the night of day 3 it was revealed that on the following day, we would begin to learn the technique of vipassana meditation.  The real work was to begin on day 4...

'Hang on... so if we start learning vipassana tomorrow, what have I been doing for 18-24 hours??' I thought to myself.

This news although sounding sadistic, also gave me hope that perhaps this was when things would start to become enjoyable; however they could also get worse...

I swear it's not a cult but I totally recommend it! Part 1

For 10 Days I signed up to live like a monk, dedicating my time to learning the 'Goenka' Vipassana method of meditation. 

I'm sitting in a hostel in the Cameron Highlands, Malaysia. It's been 4 days since completing the course yet it's still fresh in my mind.

We are in the constant state of change, and that includes are mental state and outlook on life but I cannot deny that my time spent at Dhamma Malaya has had a profound effect on my thinking and outlook on life. Was I brainwashed? Perhaps I was. I don't think I can ever be unbiased in determining that claim because a successfully brainwashed person will always deny.

My journey begins in Kuala Lumpur while I was working the graveyard shift at a backpacker hostel.
It was a tinder match during late August which led me to enrolling myself in a 10 day silent meditation retreat - the S.N Goenka Vipassana program to be exact. I don't have records of how the conversation was steered towards this particular topic but I can say with 100% certainty that all records of that conversation don't exist any more.

With great enthusiasm I signed up and over the course of about a week, I had sighted the terms, conditions and daily timetable which I would be following during these 10 days. I couldn't find anything mentioning organ donation so I enthusiastically confirmed my admission into the 10 day program which would be held out in a small commune located in the middle of a huge palm oil plantation.

On the 10th of October, I made my way out to Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur to catch the charter bus which would take us 4 hours away straight to the Dhamma Malaya facility.

We arrived at around 2pm after which we were assigned our identification number and then asked to hand in all electronic devices, wallets, food, reading and writing material, as well as our passports.
From this point we were separated into two groups based on gender. Visual and physical barriers separated the men's from the women's side of the camp and from this point on I would never set foot within 10 meters from an actual women until the 10 days had passed.

Assembled in what resembled one the science classrooms from highschool, complete with long wooden benches and stools arranged in front of a large board at the front of the room.  We sat down at our designated seating area and we were told that from now on we would sit facing the back of the room.

Later on that night, we would be assigned our seating number for the meditation hall before officially beginning the course. For the moment we were to take rest in our rooms. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling with only my thoughts and emotions to keep me company. Every second that passed by felt so raw. There was nothing that I had to do; nothing I could distract myself with or use to pass the time.
This was a taster for what was to come. I potentially had 10 full days of this ahead of me.

This 10 day meditation retreat was beginning to more and more like a prison camp. As the day drew on, the gap between my expectations and reality started to increase rapidly.

Bako National Park - One of the few national parks on this earth where you can can find fried rice.

I'm on smoko, so leave me alone.

I recently spent three nights in Bako National Park, Sarawak, Borneo.
Some would say too many nights.

Leaving the hostel I had called home for almost a week, I caught a 'Grab' ride over to the Kuching bus station, which is really a a collection of about five streets close to one another which the busses stop at.

Standing beside the bus docking lane I stood there at 10:54am like a Japanese person, wondering where the fuck this bus and slowly coming to grips with the fact that maybe the busses in Sarawak don't actually follow a schedule.

When this happens the best thing to do is go sit in the shade and forget about the possibility of getting somewhere at a specific time. Taking a good spot with a view of the road, I ordered a plastic bag of cold Milo and sipped away, practising the art of street surveillance, aka sitting on a plastic chair doing jack shit.

A bus rolled into the docking lane at 11:40am.
"The bus departs at 12:30" says the driver.

When your only alternative means of getting to the park is x15 the price of a bus ticket, none of this really bothers you and you're just grateful the bus actually exists and has air conditioning.

 Bako National Park is only accessible by sea. There are no roads leading in, nor aircraft landing facilities.  I soon found myself on a small motorised fishing boat hooning across the South China sea with no life Jacket.

Passing by stilt houses en-route to Bako

When the tide is low, you get to experience a General MacArthur style beach landing. I recommend it; it's romantic as fuck.

Bako is renowned for it's wildlife and unique wildlife at that.  Bearded pigs, macaques, proboscis monkeys, (I never saw them unfortunately) frogs, and all manner of insects and bugs. The macaques usually end up as the unwanted star of the show as they have a strong tendency to steal things from people - like half my food on the first day. It was then that I realised the significance of the sling shot and the faux ape head (sans body) lying on the cashiers desk in the cafeteria.

92% Carbohydrates.

Aside from this, Bako is not so commonly known for its on-site Nasi Campur style cafeteria complete with New Zealand-style drinks (in that they're overpriced) as well as hostel toilets which make you want to take a shit in the jungle. (On a side note, I was told recently that when one takes a shit in the jungle, it basically disappears within hours, but I'll save that for a more appropriate time).

On around the third day I figured I had done enough jungle hiking for the week and decided to spend two hours smashing out a quick trail before retiring for an early lunch and chilling on the porch reading a book.

For the rest of the third day and a big chunk of the fourth, I felt like I had finally become a permanent resident of the park, destined to live out my new identity as perhaps not the whitest porch monkey in Borneo but definitely one of the most dedicated.




I would be sitting out there for hours waiting for the designated feeding times for humans in which I would go up to the cafeteria to get my fix of the many different variations of rice and chicken and occasionally an overpriced can of Pepsi.

I began noticing the schedules of the park activities. The majority of the visitors - day visitors - would arrive in the morning shortly after 8am and then leave sometime before 3pm as the last of the boats departed the park. From my spot you could see the park rangers with half a dozen curious visitors trailing behind. They would go out from the visitor centre, down the boardwalk and along the path alongside the hostel hut porch. They would all be dressed up, ready for some serious trekking and nature photography and in contrast I'd be sitting up there on a plastic chair wearing a pair of shorts, bare chested, reading a book whilst slowly becoming greasier by the hour and thinking about how good a pack of ciggies would be about now.

I sat out here staring at the tress quite a bit

During my last days I found myself alone. All my friends from Kuching had come and gone while I had remained behind to hold the fort. It was like being in a retirement home and having all your friends die while you somehow manage to live on long enough to see an entirely new batch of greenhorn 70 year olds move in looking like they were born yesterday. I would sit there at lunchtime and be like 'ahh remember the time when I used to eat food with other people... and now all I can do is stare off into the beachfront as I eat my food like a classy gentleman'.

On the last day I was able to leave 30 minutes earlier than scheduled after tagging along with some students which also led onto getting a private van ride back to Kuching. The van was great as it didn't have seat belts which I assume is to make it easier to escape the vehicle in the event of a crash.

All an all it was a great experience. I had some great chats, met even more Dutch people, but I didn't get to witness a member of a the party get dragged away by crocodiles or huge apes during the night walk which was a little disappointing. No I did not sit around on the porch on a plastic chair the entire time as much as it sounds.

Here's a photo of Chinese people. Try think of a better caption.

Minecraft character summoning ceremony, Kuching, Sarawak.

Staring out the window feeling really good about myself

I've been in Kuching for almost two weeks now and it has been almost the same amount of time since my last blog entry. I've done some pretty typical tourist stuff Visiting the national parks, climbing into caves, eating ice-cream at 7/11, visiting museums, ripping hard on the shisha, and getting stomach flu.

I could have chose to write up a blog post about each of those things but then that would be boring and slightly vain. Instead I want to write about how I went to Mcdonalds today. I say this because despite the other things I mentioned earlier because of the strange 'revelation' I had while sitting on the first floor staring out the window. I have had a few small discoveries while sitting at Maccas but this one was a bit more beyond discovering the beef was way too salty.

I popped on over with my chromebook and memory card to go a bit of post processing.  Normally I would have gone with a flat white but because this is South East Asia, an ice latte ingested through the mouth is my preferred form of delivery of the legal stimulant.

I set myself up on the first floor, overlooking a busy intersection outside, took a few sips and began my work. After about 30 minutes, I was moving a batch of photos over to Google drive and let my attention wander out the window while I was waiting.

The next 1 1/2 hours passed by like I had just ingested 100mg of ecstacy and makes for poor reading. All I can say is that I did not process any of my photos but instead sat there typing out some amazing bangers and staring out the window feeling really good about myself.

Here are a few of them

"Love is self generated. A lot of people are mistaken in thinking it can be sought externally."

"Vanity is a temporary solution to existential anxiety... without the recognition of others, who are you really?"

"When a person has goodness within themselves, actions of this (good) nature will occur naturally"

"There's a point where you realise that the main thing preventing you from being happy and achieving inner peace are your own thoughts "

I typed out a little under 1000 words, mostly in relation to matters of my interpretation of a spiritual life and how one ought to conduct their life which I will spare the good people of this earth from (for now).

Sometimes the best things are so basic. I can see why sitting around and smoking (or just sitting around) is the unofficial national past-time of Indonesia.