Category: Travel

Country Hopping Couch Hopper

I haven’t written in a bit. I’m a little disappointed, but I’m going to go ahead and try to have some compassion for myself and carry on. I made the difficult decision to return to Canada and I spent the last couple weeks soaking up my remaining time in Cabo and transitioning back “home.”

I spent the majority of my time abroad living in different homes with the generous people I met along the way who were willing to share their spaces with me. I met some amazing people, saw some neat spaces, and got to test the waters living in a variety of different environments. It was amazing.

The last week of my stay I spent with a woman who I was drawn to right from the start. She was the one who looked at me within days of my arrival, when I thought I’d only be there for 9, and said something along the lines of “you live here now.” That simple sentence, packed with more wisdom than I originally anticipated, gave me the confidence to think “hey, maybe I COULD live here now.” And here we are, six months later.

ANYWAYS, our schedules did not align for us to get too close in my first couple stints in Cabo. She was in and out of the states and I disappeared off to Puerto Vallarta several times. However, we kept in touch, got a couple coffees in, and developed enough of a bond that she invited me into her home for the end of my Cabo days.

I so enjoyed every second of it. We ate some great meals, we laughed and cried, we made each other our morning coffees and prattled away on our respective phones without disrupting each other. It was respectful, easy and full of love and support. She introduced me to new people, made me feel welcome, and shared intimately with me. She also dropped me at the airport.

I flew through Mexico city and scheduled my flight so that I had 1pm until 9am to explore. I landed, hit the pavement, and strolled about the amazing buildings throughout the historic center. I managed to get inside a couple massive, and GORGEOUS churches, do a little shopping in funky hipster shops, and find some roof tops from which to enjoy the light of the setting sun. I walked around for 6 hours straight, snacked on gelato and al pastor tacos, and nestled into a stunning restaurant for an amazing meal before heading to my private hostel bed.

Early morning, I was whisked away to the airport for the remainder of my trip. A plane, skytrain, bus, ferry and car ride later, I arrived back in my suite in Nanaimo.

I came back to a lot of my furniture being thrown out and my things in forty boxes that encroached on every room. Part of my decision to remain in Mexico was that my space flooded just before I left town and wouldn’t be repaired until long after I was scheduled to return. It was hard enough to leave behind a lifestyle that made me happy, people that I loved and could be completely myself around, a country where I could live comfortably and joyfully… But coming back to a totally unsettled living space has amplified the experience and I’m not landing well at all. To top it off, for the first days of landing, I’d chosen to lean on someone who doesn’t have the skills to support me.

Currently, I’m feeling a bit more settled. I’ve been picking away at the boxes, unpacking and discarding. I’ve been plugging away at getting through my workload, and I’m slowly feeling more ready to schedule playdates. I have experienced the odd transition of coming home from abroad before, and I know it can be challenging. I’ve read some articles that have confirmed this is a thing, not at all unique to me. So, if any of you have experienced something similar, I invite you to share with me. Whether you have tips to navigate, or simply want to speak it aloud with someone who gets it, please reach out!

Until next time,

A

by admin

Birthday in Cabo

I arrived in Cabo just in time to bring in my 36th Birthday. I landed the day before and snuggled right back into the beautiful community. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind since, and I can’t believe it has already been more than a week. In the little time I’ve been here, I’ve had many great meals, beach days and adventures. I’ve spent time with old friends and made new. I’ve gone for walks through the familiar streets and lay in the sand with the familiar view of the stunning arch.

It’s all sorts of bitter sweet, as I’m fast approaching the expiry of my tourist visa and have been sifting through a muddled slough of thoughts and feelings as I attempt to figure out my next move. In fact, I feel too unclear to write much more than a check in at this time, so I will keep it short.

I will say that the people here touch my heart in a way that I haven’t experienced in a long time. They are so open, honest, loving and POWERFUL, and I feel saddened at the thought of not having them as part of my daily life. Just having their regular presence makes me feel so much stronger, and with the added bonus of 365 days of warmth and sun, it’s exceptionally hard for me to think about a return to Canada.

Alas, I have parts of my heart there as well, and I’m trying to psych myself up for a return to my homeland. Wish me luck as I navigate the next weeks.

I also just want to take a moment to wish all the ladies out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Whether you have kids, have lost kids, have honorary or adopted kids, or are simply nurturing those about you, I see you, I honour you, and I hope you found some peace and joy on your day.

by admin

Should I stay or should I go now!

People keep asking me when I’m coming home and the truth is, I’m not sure I want to.

I’ve randomly ended up in Mexico for nearly 5 months now and I thought maybe I’d miss Canada, miss my friends and family, be drawn to some familiarity, be filled with some home sickness, but I’m not experiencing any of those things. (Of course I miss you guys, but now in a visceral, “I can’t survive this,” kind of way.)

I feel like I was stuck in the worst rut, in all the ways. Not loving my job, not feeling inspired in my personal growth, not feeling of service, and reliving my plethora of trauma from the past two years.

Of course i believe that old adage, “wherever you go, there you are,” and I’ve seen my behaviour and beliefs take over while residing in Mexico too, but overall I feel a lot brighter and more hopeful amidst the palm trees under the beaming sun.

It’s already getting hotter and more humid as we slip into April, a glimpse into the summer intensity folks have warned me about since my arrival in November, but the thought of soaking up music in the evenings and exploring galleries after dark sounds equally enjoyable to me.

The opportunity I wanted more than anything has been offered to me in Canada. Silver platter, bells and whistles, and, despite that, I can’t help but feel like my time here is not yet done. I said I’d stay until it didn’t feel right anymore and, although my visa runs out in late May, it feels more congruent to land in Guatemala for a couple days and settle back in Mexico for however long they allow me than it does to fly back “home.”

Time will tell, but as I get close to decision time, I can’t help feeling like Canada is just not where I’m meant to be.

by admin

Yelapa

A few days ago, I took a short boat ride from Puerto Vallarta to another land.

Town consists of small, winding, cobble stone streets with a few quaint shops and restaurants. There are no cars, only quads and horses. I’ve been staying in a loft above a family owned restaurant right on the beach. The walk to the bathroom is lined with squawking chickens and I have to cross a thigh high river to get my coffee in the morning.

We hiked to a waterfall and splashed around in a lush pool in the jungle and attended a coming of age party for a fifteen year old girl where there were horses trained to dance to the music. We ate some great tacos and strolled the beach under the bright stars. We wandered the waters edge along an elevated cement path and explored a bizarre and luxurious abandoned house. Its been a neat few days where I’ve felt transported to another time.

Upon arrival to this gem of a place, i was informed that the pig tied up behind the kitchen was mean to be slaughtered for the dads birthday party on Sunday. I stopped to watch her root around in the dirt, snorting away, every time I walked to the bathroom or into town.

Today was the day she was killed for the festivities. I decided to watch because I eat meat and I’ve never actually watched the process. I worked with my brother a while and watched him butcher half animals, but I’d never actually seen the kill. It was more intense that I thought it would be. I don’t want to go into too much detail, but I will say it impacted me more than I thought it would.

I’ve been laying on the beach snuggling with a little pitbull puppy since. Settling my nerves. I figure I’ll try some of the pig meat, though I’ve heard it’s boiled rather than spit roast so I’m not sure how delicious it might be.

Anyhow, it’s been a lovely rural experience that I’m really grateful to have had, but after the party, I’m headed back to my home in Puerto Vallarta.

by admin

Universal guidance

Buenos dias, amigos y amigas!

I realized I haven’t written here in ages and it has been mostly due to a lack of inspiration. This blog allowed me to land a job writing professionally, and while I am grateful and the lifestyle is awesome, my personal writing and reflection process has suffered greatly.

Alas, about 5 weeks ago I landed in Cabo San Lucas on the Baja peninsula with a journal. I have written close to daily and, it turns out, that is all I needed to reach a point of interest in sitting down to write for you.

I hope to maintain a writing practicing while I’m down here, and ideally whenever I return home as well. There is something powerful about bringing pen to paper that gifts me more insight than the thoughts can provide swirling in my head or cascading out of my mouth.

I’m currently sitting in my accommodations watching the sky change colors over the Sea of Cortez. This has been the first blessing of every day since I arrived. I want to share a bit of my story coming here, as much as a reminder for me of universal alignment as it might be of interest to you. A friend from home extended an invitation to come share a condo in Mexico. I hummed and hawed in desperate need of an escape from my grief and anxiety filled life but was captured on the West Coast with various commitments.

I had been invited to teach yoga in a couple retreats with a friend of mine and signed up for an annual Buddhist silent retreat with my teacher as well. My hope was that these sweet opportunities would allot me some freedom from myself, but the first retreat was cancelled, and I decided to take the brief 9 day window in my schedule to fly to Mexico.

Aside from some group lunches and a couple deep conversations, my friend and I didn’t know each other all that well. As an almost exclusively solo traveller, I wondered how well it would go, but figured anything can be okay for 9 days and I felt comfortable enough to tell him I needed to be alone, so away I went. It was awesome. He was fun and easy to get on with. We shared responsibilities around the space beautifully, went on excursions around neighboring towns, made a daily trek to a favorite coffee shop and strolled down to the beach to soak up the sun on the regular.

Three days before my scheduled flight home, I went to get the covid test required for entry into Canada. I was positive. I had no symptoms, though my friend had what we thought was an air conditioner induced head cold. Turned out we both got the notorious flu and we stayed somewhat isolated together for roughly 14 days. Fortunately, we had tapped into an amazing community through our shared support group and they brought us groceries and met us for distanced beach visits and we got through it with some peace and wellness. I was so grateful to be both vaccinated and with a familiar face as I navigated the reality of having this ailment that was the source of years of fear mongering. I’m happy to report it was mild. My energy levels were good, it never went into my chest, and the majority of the sickness was comparable to a sinus cold. I did have one day where it felt as though I’d been beaten with a meat mallet. My skin, particularly in my left shoulder and neck, was extremely sensitive to touch. But as soon as the sun came out and I had the heat on my body, it became manageable and away I went. We ordered food through Uber eats and carried on attending our support group online.

During this time I was presented with several options to extend my stay. Through a series of “coincidences,” one man I’d met ended up extending the offer for me to stay in a hotel room until the end of January. A friend in Puerto Vallarta invited me to stay with her over the first couple weeks of January l and I was offered rooms about Cabo and San Jose if I so desired to stay beyond that. My apartment back home flooded the day before I departed and is currently ripped apart with my things in storage or discarded. I’ve had nothing but green lights to stay abroad and have taken it as a sign. I’ve decided to remain here as long as it is easier to do so. I’m trusting it will continue to be obvious one way or another and am using it as an opportunity to tune in and listen to the guidance.

Continued… (January 6, 2022)

The universal guidance carried on in other ways as well. It just so happened that two of the women I started some work with recently were in Puerto Vallarta area at the same time so we have managed to connect. I happened to have a lull between work projects that has awarded me the freedom to explore with them freely. I decided to return to Cabo on the 13th which aligned me for a visit with a friend from a Buddhist retreat center who happens to be there for a wedding. It continues on and never ceases to amaze.

I’ll touch on one last thing before I sign off. It’s proving to be easy to get carried away as my mind and heart are bursting with insight and gratitude! However, I know the attention span of most doesn’t allow for engaged reading of long ramblings.

For about 17 years I have been practicing yoga and, for roughly 12, I’ve been involved with Buddhist teachers and meditation practices. I have attended silent retreats and countless sits and ceremonies. I have also been blessed with the opportunity to spend time in centers, ashrams and monasteries around the world. I have simultaneously been invested in a support network centered around staying sober and am a few weeks away from celebrating 10 years free of being altered by substance.

Throughout this decade I have ping ponged between spiritual paths. In 2018 I took refuge in a monastery in Nepal and fully committed myself to the Buddhist path. In 2019 I did more silent retreat work than I’d ever done, and the experience was heart and mind opening. In early 2020, I hit a wall and fell into a deep depression. Through a series of events, I ended up recognizing that I needed both paths in tandem, and have been attempting to bring them into alignment since.

Here, in Puerto Vallarta, I found a yoga teacher who guides practices in a club space for my sober tribe. Throughout the first class, I was nearly brought to tears several times as I was guided through familiar movements while being surrounded by slogans and literature that have influenced my life for years. We were encouraged to adopt phrases from said literature to use as mantra and ended class with the traditional kirtan chant ‘Om Mani Padme Hung,’ which just happens to be tattooed on my wrist. I have taught yoga in sober houses using some of the same methods but being guided myself integrated aspects of myself together in a way I hadn’t yet fully experienced and I am tearfully grateful to have landed here, in that class, at this time.

I can’t get over the way things have unfolded and continue to unfold as I explore Mexico. I spoke to my mentor before I left home about my desire to travel being rooted in the experience of flow that I have trouble accessing in my ‘normal’ life. My goal this year is to tune into the way I approach life as I explore, the feelings I have as I trust my intuition and listen to the universal guidance. I hope that I might be able to apply the understanding of transience, the acceptance of uncertainty, and the ability to remain openhearted anyways whenever I return to normal life, or embrace whatever my new normal turns out to be.

**This reflection began before my most recent post.

by admin

Retreat

I am painfully aware that it has been a significant length of time since I last wrote and posted.  I’ve decided to do my best to get a check in of sorts out into the abyss of the internet so that I may reinvigorate my commitment to write more frequently. 

I think I last wrote shortly before departing on a month-long meditation retreat.  I will likely share a bit about that amongst some other reflections.  I’ll start by saying that normally, on retreat, students are expected to refrain from writing, with the exception of taking notes during classes.  This means that for the month of retreat, I gave up my morning writing practice.  I’ll go on to say that while my intention for the month was to be in one place going deep into a silent practice, the reality of the situation was quite different.  I arrived at my chosen destination to discover I was being put up in a shared, and not so quiet space.  I then found out the teachings I anticipated being able to attend were mostly closed off to the volunteers.  These things, on top of being in close proximity to someone I had not wrapped my head around being more than silent with, were enough to propel a change of plans.

I was speaking to my meditation teacher via phone throughout these discoveries and she helped me decide if I was “mat rolling” (a term I learned in this process that refers to bailing out of fear or discomfort, rather than out of wisdom and self care) or if I was, in fact, doing what was best for me.  In the end I decided to stay for the first 10 day retreat that was being held and then depart.  

I let go of the idea of being in silent and deep retreat and, instead, embraced the connections blossoming amongst the volunteers, resident monks and lamas.  I attended what classes and sits I could amongst my chores and used the social opportunity to ask questions.  I have been a student who sits at the front of the class, listens intently to the teacher, and then goes home.  Engaging with the fellow students, or even the teacher beyond scheduled interviews, was not something I’ve been very interested in.  Until recently.  So, you can imagine, with the breadth of thousands of years of teachings, I have some questions!  Being in the company of more dedicated practitioners with more years of practice was very enlightening. 

While finishing my time at the Hermitage, I also planned to leave Denman Island and travel to a friend’s place on Galiano to finish the month solo and in silence.  My teacher, a very busy and successful woman, was off teaching in conferences around Hawaii and the U.S. so she arranged for me to connect with her teacher on the long, little island.  I downloaded a bunch of her past dharma talks and guided meditations, packed up a bunch of art supplies to work with a visualization practice, and off I went. 

Her teacher, Lama Mark Webber, runs a retreat center on Galiano called Crystal Mountain.  I was blessed to attend retreat there in the summer, and also a mini weekend retreat the few days before I’d left for Denman.  Anyhow, I left for Galiano expecting to be on my own with one interview to ask questions and instead was approved to attend two weeks of the four-and-a-half-month long retreat he was/is in the middle of teaching.  The experience was strong, intellectual, often scientific information.  Mostly two classes per day and a study group in the afternoon to play with and explore concepts.  Very different than what I was used to, but I believe what very much I needed.

I finished the month with a short retreat at the Bethleham Center here in Nanaimo.  This was where Lama Mark approved me receiving audio recordings as the classes continue, so my morning writing practice continues to suffer.  I often allow myself an hour or two to listen and follow along in the text.  However, with more and more to process, I’m feeling drawn to finding the time to write as well, and so decided to post today.

I’ve gone on long enough, so I just want to sum up my experience and leave further details and images (I went for a lot of hikes, and Galiano is awe strikingly beautiful) for another day.  While this experience was not at all what I’d prepared for, even fretted about, it was amazing in a lot of ways.  I felt ready for more knowledge, I was feeling more curious to go deeper into the philosophy and that was exactly what was offered to me in a variety of ways.  I’d felt lots of pull to Galiano and Lama Mark in previous retreats throughout the summer and was blessed to end up there learning in great depth from him.  And perhaps the biggest take away, was I was busy.  I didn’t get to slow way down and find deep stillness which has been characteristic of other retreats.  I instead was chopping wood, making food, walking lots, driving up and down Galiano, speaking some and practicing a traditional, seated practice very little.  Why is this so awesome, you might ask?  Because, for the first time, I had a period to practice building meditation, contemplation and study into my daily life, into my connections and into my obligations.  I’ve found it so much easier to return home and dedicate space to continuing on.  I’ve experienced great shifts without having to be in a state that isn’t so accessible outside of a typical retreat environment.  I believe this will help me immensely moving forward and though I feel ready to delve into a month of proper retreat sometime soon, I’m also really grateful for the way this month turned out.

by admin

Boudha Stupa

A friend of mine is planning a journey to various parts of the world including Bali, India and Nepal. I’ve been sharing my experiences with him and was reflecting fondly on my time near Boudha Stupa in my recent trip to Nepal. I had a rather mundane week that I was fairly down through out, so racking my brain for something to write today ended with my wanting to share a bit of this experience with you all.

So, my trip to Nepal started outside of Kathmandu at Kopan Monastery, which I’ve written about in another blog post. After my 10 days there, I ventured to Pokhara and some surroundings areas, then down to Lumbini and Chitwan National Park and then back up toward Kathmandu venturing out of the main spots to visit places like Begnas Lake and Sarangot.

My first and last week were dedicated to the Kathmandu area, and I tell ya, it was not a pretty site. The main drag was totally catered to tourists and was full of western style restaurants and knick knacks. It was dirty and underwhelming for me and I couldn’t wait to head towards Pokhara, a less busy hub.

However, on the last week, I situated myself a bit out of the chaos of tourist central, Kathmandu. I found a homestay a 10 minute walk from Boudha Stupa and ended up staying there a total of 6 nights. The family I stayed with were quite sweet and while the area was fairly dusty and in need of repairs, likely from residual earthquake damage, the quaint winding roads to the Boudha Stupa made up for it.

Boudha Stupa

A stupa is basically a Buddhist shrine, or holy place. The whole structure was adorned with prayer flags and lined with prayer wheels. Every day people came in and walked clockwise around the structure, some spinning prayer wheels and chanting, “Om Mani Padme Hum,” translated to “the Jewel of the lotus.” In Buddhism there are 3 jewels representing the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. The Lotus refers to the Dharma, or Buddhist teachings. No matter what time of day or night, the place was crowded with people practicing prostrations and prayer.

The Stupa itself was surrounded with buildings. Some the home of shops, homestays and restaurants.
In each rectangle are Buddhist prayer wheels. People would walk the perimeter spinning each wheels and chanting Om Mani Padme Hum.

I loved being so near a space that was actively being used as a place of worship at all times of day. I happened to be in town during a big Hindu festival, Tihar. This festival is celebrated over several days (also known in India as Diwali, I believe, or closely related from what I understood from dialogue with locals and friends in India.) One of the days is a celebration of Goddess Lakshmi and butter lamps and beautiful sand mandalas are put out on the door steps with lamps leading their way into the home lighting and inviting Lakshmi into the home. The beautiful lamps set out at each of the shop doors were beautiful and the space was alive with music and offerings.

Offering of Marigolds in oil.
Butter lamps leading the way for Lakshmi.

Lakshmi is a Goddess of wealth/prosperity and they invite her in to bless their family for the coming year. This beautiful image of her created in sand marked one of the shop entrances around the Stupa.

Lakshmi.

This whole piece of Nepal is quite special to me. I left and went back to the same homestay and enjoyed days and nights visiting, wandering around and eating at or around the square. I met an ex monk who made the best soup and proposed to me (for a green card, but still), I lost my phone and miraculously had it returned to me, I met a beautiful Indian couple who told me about Nepal in the old days. I spent time reconnecting with a friend from my first days in the monastery and even ventured back to the monastery to say my farewells. I met a couple other friendly travellers, nursed a cold, and ate many meals with the nice couple I stayed with. I longed to bring home some sort of daily ritual, something that could keep me grounded in my practice and in my connection to others and nature, and while I struggle to find this consistency, this memory remains a fond one full of potential.

by admin

A New York City Tourist.

Well, I’ve seen too much to share it all in one post, so I’m going to just share the tourist stops and save some of the other goodies for another week. We found our way to several subway lines from our house and can get almost everywhere in the city with little effort. The place is the home of a… let’s call him a collector. We have a headboard to ceiling collection of Barbie dolls lining the wall behind our bed, and enough plants in the bedroom it kinda of feels like a jungle. My favourite though is his most recent habit, crystal collecting!

Anyways, we’ve done a lot in a short period of time, as you do (or at least I do,) when you travel. We wandered through central park, have taken the Staten Island ferry (both at sunset and for a day trip to a Tibetan Art Museum,) we’ve been to a one star Michelin restaurant, seen Times Square, wandered the high line and the Chelsea district galleries, and we briefly stopped by the 9/11 memorial to contemplate and shed some tears. I’m writing this for you on Friday to be posted Sunday as Sunday will not allow me the time, so there’s still more to cram into the next couple days including Brooklyn, some of the big galleries and a few more tasty meals.

I left you last Sunday with us departing for Times Square. We made it safely, took some obligatory photos, and then checked out a surrounding few blocks. We ended up getting caught in crazy torrential rain and hid out in a souvenir shop checking out the weird novelty trump bobble heads in hopes the rain would let up.

We spent nearly the full next day just in Central Park. We stepped out of the park for lunch and a little thrift shopping, but otherwise just walked the trails, stopped at the fountains, and enjoyed the views. It covers a pretty spectacular amount of Manhattan and I loved that it was full of meandering folks laying in the grass, cycling, and rowing. We only actually made it about half way from North to South, it’s that big!

While the whole park was quite beautiful, one of my favourite stops was a quite, small little area with a fountain and a few small birds splashing around.

We were planning to head to Staten Island to see a gallery on a different day, but ended up near the South Ferry and opted for a sunset ride a couple days early. We loaded, went across, got a pretzel and headed back. We just happened to catch a relatively clear night and watched the red orb of the sun slowly lower behind the Statue Of Liberty on the ride back.

We still did make it over yesterday to visit the gallery though. It was a Tibetan Art Gallery, a must-see according to another gallery Bryan visited. Having seen so much throughout Nepal, the collection itself, wasn’t amazing for me. However, the garden space and the general feeling of being in a monastery-esque space was a nice step out of the big apple. Plus, we got to play ping pong with our minds… so whatevs.

On what I imagine was our last trip on the Staten Island Ferry, we got nice and close to the Statue for one more shot.

I’m nearing the end of the time I’ve allotted to writing, so I think I’ll just wrap up with a few general reflections on my time here. My first taste of NYC I didn’t much enjoy, I’ll admit. Our first visit to Chelsea was unremarkable (aside from the art, but every big city has a lot of art.) I didn’t enjoy the views, especially coming from the pristine countryside. The city blocks were crowded and nothing so special. Times Square was depressing. It summed America up pretty well for me. Constant and overwhelming bombardment of what you need to buy, do, see in order to be “better” than you currently are. Huge, big box, corporate stores and a general denial of the earth and it’s cycles through lights so bright it could be any time of day.

However, despite my general dislike of the western dream and it’s portrayal throughout Manhattan, I have found some quaint areas, some beautiful buildings, and some communal squares with European nuance. Our Michelin star experience was unreal and I look forward to experiencing some of Brooklyn too. I leave in only 3 more days! It’s gone quick and I think to really get a feel for the whole city you would need weeks, better walking shoes, or unlimited cab fare allowance...

‘Til next week, my friends!

by admin

NY, NY

So, maybe not what some would imagine for a trip to the big apple, but today I wrapped up my first 3 nights in the country of New York State. The first night I arrived in the evening and met my beau at Grand Central. I got off the bus and only walked a block to the beautiful, huge train station. It was raining and grey. The lights, pedestrians and emergency vehicles made it hard for my eyes to focus. The overwhelm reminiscent of the chaos that was India.

We hopped on a train bound for Peekskill, about an hour north of Manhattan. We arrived and stopped at Bryan’s friends’ restaurant for a late dinner before heading to our home for 2 nights. The residence of Vancouver raised artist, Cal Lane.

Some of Cal’s pieces lining one of the walls in the living room. Kama Sutra images cut out of oil cans.

We went to bed not long after arriving home, but I woke to explore the house which is essentially an artists studio, full of amazing works and funky, though modest decor.

One of Cal Lane’s works that’s found it’s home on her 5 acre lot. Bryan’s just hanging out in the crotch.

That afternoon Cal and her partner took us to a Buddhist monastery and then to a lake for a lovely picnic lunch. It was a quiet day during which I was grateful to have to land and adjust peacefully, but was also anxious to get into the city to explore. We spent our second night sleeping in the barn, set up with a living room, bedroom and giant projector. We watched movies and slept in the big, creaky, high ceilinged, twinkle light lit, barn.

There were thousands of these tiny Buddha’s all around the main MASSIVE Buddha inside the main temple.

Saturday, Cal graciously took us into Chelsea to explore some of the gallery district. In a city block, we wondered into probably 10 different galleries, featuring big names and wonderful work.

Frank Stella works, the inspiration for our trip to Chelsea.
He’s matchy matchy!
Jose Parla. A treat, indeed.

We decided to hop and skip a few blocks to Greenwich village for a bite to eat at Fig and Olive, a beautiful room with delightful, French-inspired food.

We ended the day at Cal’s lake house. Isolated, quiet and beautiful. We went for an evening kayak and spent the morning on the deck enjoying our coffee with the last our of our country time before settling into our current home in the Bronx.

The lake house deck. Yup, I could live here.

Next week I should have more to share in regards to our city adventures. Today we had a stuffed pizza and wandered a little around the neighbourhood. Tonight we’re heading to Times Square and tomorrow to hang out in Central Park. We have a loose schedule of our must-sees scattered throughout the week and we hope to fill the gaps with whatever inspires us along the way! ‘Til next time!

by admin

Kopan Monastery

In university I had this amazing professor who sent me on a tangent that would later be a degree in Anthropology. Her field study and PHD work was all done in rural Nepal and her stories finally gave me a sense of belonging. I never resonated with the western world, the life focused on individuality and financial abundance. A life where work took priority and community was relatively non-existent. Stuck in a irrelevant loop, as the Metric lyrics go, “buy this car to drive to work, drive to work to pay for this car.” I struggled and rebelled against a life where I was meant to worship money and material possessions and longed for a life with more meaning, more intention, more connection. When I heard of Nepal, people sustaining themselves with farming, strong faith, and undivided community, I was suddenly hopeful and alive. This past fall, I had the honour of packing my bags, and heading to see this beautiful spot for myself.

There’s too much to share for one blog post, but I will say that my study of Nepal, and other poor parts of the world, was not without it’s look into the horrific impacts of tourism and globalization. I witnessed a lot of this in my travels to Nepal, India and Indonesia, but I will leave that for another day and focus here on my time at Kopan Monastery.

The main temple where all of our meditations and talk were held.

Despite having spent a significant part of my time on Vancouver Island (now about 8 years) studying Buddhism with teachers in the Tibetan lineage, I still felt like heading to Kopan, just outside of Kathmandu, to delve into a 10 day intro to Tibetan Buddhism course. I arrived in Kathmandu in the evening of the first day of the course. I hopped into a taxi at the airport and arrived in the hot, congested, madly honking traffic and instantly felt my body sink into the reality of the third world. The taxi drivers flat rate was immediately being debated and the drive down unnecessary streets to reach our destination used as ammunition. The last, dark, windy road up to the monastery’s gate opened up to views of the city lights below and I was in awe.

I arrived late but they fed me, showed me my room, and helped me make a phone call to let all at home know I’d arrived safely. I made it to the evening intro talk and settled into my home for the next 10 days. I woke up to monks chanting, our dorms windows looking over the school for young monks. I loved seeing the children in their robes running with fabric flowing behind them and playing a version of hacky sack with bundled up garbage or a deflated soccer ball on their breaks.

The balcony outside my bedroom. Over to the left out the door was the school for young monks.

I spent the 10 days in a combination of reading, writing, meditating, talking with peers and listening to a variety of dharma talks. The main teacher was a nun who lived in the monastery (one of 3.) There was a monk from the monastery who did a lot of teachings also, and a young, male lay practitioner from Australia. We had access to an amazing bookstore and library with an amazing wealth of information. I grew to love the librarian, and decided to explore the idea of taking refuge through a variety of suggested readings from him and the main teacher, Ani Karen.

We were amongst the monks, but they moved their practices to areas outside of the main gompa to make space for the 100 or more of us that were there from all over the world to learn. We often only heard their chanting from around the grounds, but occasionally we got to see them engage a very lively practice of debate as well. They would often sit in the coffee shop or on the patio during break times and occasionally loaded up several buses to go to other areas to hear different teachers speak. There was also a nunnery a little ways down the hill that we were invited to visit. We got to see them making incense that is sold around the world.

The resident monks engaged in debate, which is an integral part of their learning process.

This experience was different than all the other retreats I’ve been in for a variety of reasons. The most significant being the fact that while silent the majority of the time, there was an allowance for dialogue in the afternoons. We were assigned groups and questions and for the first time really, I got to practice putting into words years of meditation experiences. The most interesting part of that was that I was the only student in my group with a decent amount of study behind me so I got to explore some of the resistance and doubts my peers were experiencing with fresh eyes, as I have since eradicated a number of similar doubts that arose for me in earlier years. I also made several beautiful connections with amazing people that I hope to foster from a distance for the years to come.

The door into the Gompa, or temple.

Through this whole experience, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to deepen my commitment, and find more guidance to delve deeper into this path I’d been loosely following for many years. I decided to take refuge with a monk, was given a spiritual name within the lineage, and have since requested more support from my teacher in Nanaimo. The experience was special for me. To be in such a place, to have discussed my way into a new level of commitment (when normally I discuss my way into a self doubt spiral) and to have such support in my questions and learning was such a blessing. Some of the most resonant answers I received in this endeavor were that I could forever learn and adapt my commitment and that we are encouraged to explore all other forms of education, not that Buddhism as it exists today has the only information of value.

Me being given my lineage name.

I hoped that all this would help me connect to a more regular practice, but alas, the action still needs to come from me. Finding space for it within my routine did not happen until my most recent retreat on Denman Island. However, I am now in a daily routine and am doing my best to build it into my morning time that I spend writing and learning French! And I’m happy to say that so far it’s been fruitful.

The view from on top of one of the buildings. The monastery grounds overlooking Kathmandu.

I decided to write this this week because I am a seeker. I am always learning about new ways of connecting, integrating ritual, learning ways of engaging with the spiritual and this week I ended up in a scenario in which I questioned my involvement with certain practitioners and realized that I really do resonate and have belief in Buddhist practice. I chose to become Buddhist in Nepal, but this week, I am reminded that it’s more than having taken refuge, it’s continuing to practice and contemplate and come to the same conclusion. This is what makes sense to me, even amongst my skepticism and self doubt. And I admit, I have a bit of fear of putting this out into the world. I have negated religion in many ways for many years, but this seems less like a religious pursuit and more an unraveling of years of misunderstanding reality. I will hopefully never close my mind to other ways of seeing the world, but until that stops reinforcing my experience of the practices I’m involved in, I will continue on the Buddhist path.

by admin