So I'm about to bring this knife onto the plane

Clearly my 'misfortunes' were a result of not throwing money into the mechanised 'Spinning Buddha' gambling machine.

 I bypassed the Air Asia self check in machines and went straight to the baggage drop with all the necessary documents in my hand. The assistant scanned the baggage tag and then the conveyor belt whisked my bag down along the line. I walked away proudly, as if everything was going to go perfectly. Today I was going to catch a flight without breaking a sweat.

I was standing in line at the immigration gates when I remembered that my blue swiss army knife was still in my backpack - my carry on backpack to be precise. By now it was too late, my check in luggage had already gone through. I passed through the immigration gate with that feeling where you know you fucked up and there's no going back.

As I approached the security scanner checkpoint I technically had two options; I could declare the knife in my bag and have a 100% chance losing it or I could just do nothing and hope they don't notice. The latter gave me a chance of success. Clearly the obvious option was to smuggle the knife through security and onto the plane - I mean who wouldn't do the same thing?

I put the bag onto the conveyor belt and walked through the security gate.

"Sir we need to scan your bag again"

The security officer ran it through the bag scanner again.

"Could you please remove your laptop and any electronics which are inside"

He then placed the bag onto a larger scanner. I could see a still image my bag on the X-Ray display. The officer conversed with one of his colleagues and pointed to the red circle centred on the knife in my bag before opening up the side pocket where in which the dangerous object was contained.

"There is a swiss knife inside this bag"

"Ahh shit yeah there is too..." I replied in a disappointed tone of voice which only a Kiwi would recognise.

"You cannot bring on the plane. We have to confiscate it".

"Ok"

I spent the next 15 minutes waiting at the departure gate trying to keep equanimous, trying not to feel like a terrorist suspect who's plan had just been thwarted. 

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.

The Work Bubble

06:50
My alarm clock goes off.
It's remarkable that I managed to even fall asleep this morning.

Usually I wake up at around 10-11am, but today is different. Today I have important business to attend to and I need to be there at 08:00. (No it's not a court hearing but it involves sitting in front of a computer for 6 hours.)

I roll over and look out the window onto the street below.
Men in long sleeve button on shirts and backpacks walk unnaturally fast along the footpath as if their livelihood depended on it. (Which is probably true)
It's only natural that in a city filled with office towers that you find office workers; but what really hits me is that during my time in South East Asia, I have never actually witnessed the modern ritual of the morning rush hour as I have been operating on a very different schedule.

I want to talk about this because I back home in Christchurch, I lived a very different lifestyle. I used to spend the majority of the day inside an office building, largely isolated from everything else that occurred in the city. I used to partake in the commuter ritual twice a day and it was just a normal part of my life. I saw Christchurch from the perspective of an office worker.

There were times where I would find myself at home or in town during a weekday (or at least not at work) for whatever reason and I would feel like some kind of unemployed junkie slob. This belief was probably instilled from a young age back when I was in primary school where the kids who bunked school were labelled as the 'bad apples' who had no future. For whatever reason, that belief persisted into adulthood and even something as innocent as taking time off on annual leave and going into town during the daytime had me feeling like a wreck.

It's August 2018 and I now find myself in Kuala Lumpur. On one particular day I woke up at 11:00am, watched Youtube videos, played guitar, and ate breakfast cereal for dinner before going back to bed at 2am- all without even leaving the hostel.
It's at the extreme end for me but throughout the past few weeks, my day-to-day lifestyle has largely been about waking up sometime after 08:30, walking/driving around, taking photos, eating food and then going to bed at various hours of the night/morning. I am displaying the true qualities of an unemployed man. - A man who's spent the same money on whisky as he has on food over the past two days.

That said however, I have a foreign passport and this somehow grants me the unique status of being unemployed but without the stigma. (It also eliminates the stigma attached to drinking corn flavoured milk-based drinks outside a playground)

The only time I've seen corn in SE Asia is in a can or in a shrink wrapped plastic bag.

Throughout my travels in Indonesia, Singapore and now Malaysia, I have seen things from the perspective of a backpacker. There are many different ways of perceiving a particular place, which all depend on how your life is structured and how you fit within that society. Our lifestyles and daily patterns create the lens with which we perceive our environment. To truly judge a place fairly, one must take the time to experience it from different angles.  When you say a particular place is boring, ask yourself "Is it really"?
Perhaps it is you who is boring.


As a traveller, I have access to the widest lens of them all and it is only a matter of choosing to use it.

Now I see why they say it changes your perspective.

I paid way too much for this perspective