Day Five Hundred & Ninety-nine
Wednesday, January 25th 2012
“When the wanting mind first arises we may not recognize it as a demon because we are often lost in its allure. Wanting is characterized as a Hungry Ghost, a ghost with an enormous belly & tiny pinhole mouth, who can never eat enough to satisfy his endless need. . . . When we look at wanting, we experience the part of ourselves that is never content, that always says 'If only I had something more, that would make me happy' –some other relationship, some other job, some more comfortable cushion, less noise, cooler temperature, warmer temperature, more money, a little more sleep last night– 'then I would be fulfilled.' . . . For the voice of wanting, what is here now is never enough.”
This past month has been challenging for me mainly due to the change in year from 2011 to 2012. After that, the realization truly struck me that this is the year I will go home after living in Asia for what seems like such a long time. I have focused so much energy & so many of my thoughts on America, tangling myself in a web of romanticism & idealizations. Only recently have I begun to seek balance through Buddhist teachings. I must admit that the more excitement I have been developing regarding going home, the slower the days pass. I almost want to return to those carefree (in hindsight, at least) times this past autumn where the days bled together & the weeks ran by me like a stream, flowing but barely noticed.
Several things are bringing be back into the present. I have continued my outreach toward America in the form of letters, postcards, & emails to long-lost friends. Last month, I sent a letter on a whim to my pen pal in Australia who I hadn't talked to or heard from in easily over a decade. Just this past week, he reconnected with me once again. What an incredible feeling this is, something truly amazing given the fact that I am not on Facebook. If anything, instances like these reaffirm to me that results are gotten by the amount & quality of effort put forth. I will continue to invest all the love & effort I possess into friendships that truly matter.
I'm learning to tune into the little things here. Instead of cursing the freezing nights where the electricity is out & I could probably see my breath indoors were there any light to see it by, I have begun to cherish these nights. I cherish them because Chicago, my cat, politely paws at the sleeping bag (rated for -15°F temperatures) & snuggles in close to me, his head resting on my arm, as I zip the sleeping bag around us. In the warmth of wherever I will call home this coming winter in America, perhaps Chicago won't be as inclined to snuggle next to me.
“When we look, we see that wanting creates tension, that it is actually painful. We see how it arises out of our sense of longing & incompleteness, a feeling that we are separate & not whole.” It isn't that I have yet been able to stem my wanting to return & experience all the luxuries America has to offer. A part of me, however much a dreamer, still fantasizes about the little things. Today I fell into a memory of Rachel & I driving to the family cabin one night & overshooting our turn. We ended up in the parking lot of a small, solitary, white church. The scene was lit by the moon, the stars, & one streetlight. I didn't appreciate the experience then, because then it was only a means to an end, a stop along the way, a place in which to turn the car around. What if I had told myself then that the very scene I was experiencing would strike me as so beautiful some years later?
I fully anticipate that I will fondly recall the little unexpected memories of Mongolia as well. Because the school well is locked all winter, I have been going into the school to find the jijuur (a custodian who has a lot of keys) to procure the key to the padlock. Her name, as I have learned, is Tunga. Though she & I have never so much as introduced ourselves & have never had a conversation beyond “Bi ohs heregtei,” it occurred to me today that goodness, I will miss her. I'll miss walking around the small school to find her. I'll miss stumbling upon her diligently tending to her work. I'll miss the way she always smiles when she sees me. Everyone needs a Tunga in life.
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