Do for you?

Wow - ah, the directions of life. I know now more than ever that
whenever I NEED to get home (wherever that is) I actually need to stay
here and deal with whatever's coming up. The other day I was talking
about this desire to run "home" that comes up every few weeks or so,
and we were talking about the concept of home. What is it, anyway? For
me? I don't necessarily have a home - I have parents who welcome me
into their house whenever I show up, but I don't have a space in a
community, I don't have a town, and what is home anyway? How can it be
anything but wherever you are?

As I was talking, hearing this out loud, a quote from the Dalai Lama
floated through my head - "Whenever I meet someone, I act as though
I'm a member of their family."

This makes the whole world a member of my family.

And I looked around at the people sitting on the porch, the people
I've shared stories with and talked about love and meditation and
surfing and frustration and shared massages with, and I realized that
right here and now, this is my family. If I accept these people as my
family, they are.

Here I am, in the midst of my family. I've been enjoying sharing and
caring - it's almost as if it's a contest to see who can do the most
for the house, without an ounce of competition or expectation. The
dishes are always done, someone cleaned the bathroom, rearranged the
porch furniture and indoor furniture, brought CD's to play, incense to
burn...every day, I ask myself, what can I do for this community I'm
living in?

How far can I stretch this smile?

Community is great!

I definitely recommend volunteering here. The people are amazing, the
food is...amazing, the practices I can take or leave, and the place is
beautiful. My second week here I got a roaring soar throat, head cold
thing that knocked me flat right in the middle of my work schedule. I
was out for three days and the whole time people were telling me just
to stay in bed and get well, no pressure to work (except from myself)
and then when I resurfaced, they all asked if I was feeling better! I
felt so cared for. Talk about community! It's what I've been talking
about and looking for since the beginning of my trip. It's what I'm
excited to create and be a part of when I get back home.

Speaking of which, I'm heading out of Chenrezig on the 28th or so, and
here is what I envision: take a "Wicked Camper" for relocation to
Melbourne, pick up two or three friends/hitchers/serendipitous
connections and mosey down to Melbourne by the 1st, because I leave
out of there the second. I am open to leaving earlier and having a
longer trip, because it's about the people!!! for me, and that's who
I'm enjoying here as well.

On the note of traveling solo, I have to say, it is great. I wouldn't
have said this two months ago, six weeks ago, but now I wouldn't
change it for anything. There is a confidence, an enjoyment I've
developed with being on my own, making my own decisions and being free
to dither or act decisively or change my mind at the last minute.
Directly before coming into this feeling I really tried hard to
convince my friend and my sister to visit me here and be my travel
buddy. It's a lot like me wanting to go home all the time - I have
waves of wanting to flee away home and then the sense of being
perfectly comfortable here. Right now, I'm really comfortable with
traveling on my own, and I'm just appreciating where I'm at and who
knows where I'm going.

Going swimmingly!

*Smiles*

Buddhism may not be the philosophy for me, but a spiritual community
feels like the best fit so far.

Andy and the Korean Wwoofer Ji Yung dropped me off on Sunday at
Chenrezig. I stood at the base of a long set of stairs reaching
seemingly all the way up the hill, with my backpack and pink Chico bag
in hand, thinking, 'why do buddhist centers always seem to be on
hills?'

Then I started up, conscious of how much huffing and puffing I was
doing (not too much, I happily noticed) and climbed my way to the Big
Love Cafe, where I was offered lunch twice, welcomed by the
work-exchange vollies and a notice on the notice board, asked if I'd
like to join in an expedition to Landsborough to experience a
community healing in the hall and given the day to settle in and
explore.

I felt right at home.

I feel even more at home now.

Kirsty, the volunteer coordinator, put me on housekeeping as my
work-exchange. I thought, 'housekeeping! what about helping in the
kitchen, that's where I'm most comfortable and happiest!' But I didn't
complain or say anything, since I hadn't yet experienced housekeeping.
After a day of thorough and sometimes repetitious training I thought I
could handle it. After the second day I decided I was the luckiest
volly to get to do housekeeping instead of slaving away in the
kitchen.

Imagine: breakfast is from 7-8 am. I waltz in around 9am and meet
Lesley, my boss (she calls me her off-sider, which is a friendly
helper term, unlike the American 'sidekick' which isn't so nice). We
begin with cleaning the main bathroom, a partially outdoor concrete
affair with cobwebs and mold as part of the infrastructure. One thing
I'm learning is about the prevalence of mold in this climate - it
seems pervasive and unavoidable. Ugh! We clean toilets and do washing
and mop and sweep up after the bush turkeys that have taken up
residence just uphill of the path to the toilets, and when it's as
clean as natural cleansers (which still make me sneeze!) can make it,
we head to reception to find out what rooms we're cleaning, and that's
how we arrange the day. The reasons I like it are many: there's no
stressful deadline like serving lunch at noon, sharp. If I'm having an
interesting conversation at lunch, it's ok for me to continue having
that conversation until it's over because there's no rush. Lesley has
lots of information about Buddhism, she tells stories and speaks
French from living in New Caledonia for 30 years, and she's wheat and
dairy free like me. On the days Lesley has off, I work by myself,
deciding on my priorities and working my schedule around teachings
that might interest me.

I'm learning about making my work simply a part of my day, my
lifestyle, instead of something I DO. Previously, work is a concept
I've had a hard time with because of my perception of it as a trade: I
give you my time, you give me money. Here, I volunteer my time, I get
fed and a place to sleep, I can go to as many teachings as I'd like,
and I live in a place where we actively support monks and nuns in
their spirituality, where the dharma is discussed daily and practiced,
daily.

What I'm doing is a willing exchange, not a perceived necessary one.
Still, I wonder if the resentment I've felt in practically every other
job will surface here as well - I don't see why not. With that in
mind, what better place to experience it and deal with it?

One afternoon I swam in the ocean with bluebottle jellyfish; last
night I dreamed I was going the wrong way on my path and that I turned
around and walked the right way - I was happy at the end. I also
dreamed of a great red kangaroo in the dawn that bounded away with
amazingly high leaps when I spotted it.

Even if I don't agree with the things I'm learning about Buddhism
here, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself in this community, and I'm
finding myeslf eager to come home to see what kind of community I find
or will start. More and more, it's how I see my life. I wonder what my
role will be in creating community - instigator, social glue, drama
queen - who knows? I'm focusing on the present and realizing that's
the only thing I can do. It's almost as if everything else has already
been decided and it's just up to me to act it out, with all my
indecision and drama and attachment and aversion. As my friend Dan
said, "Anchen, whatever step you take is the right one!"

What's next?

I'm embarking upon a month of monastic silence and prayer at the
Chenrezig Institute in Eudlo, near Maleny in Queensland. I've been
staying in Heaven in the Hills, a retreat center where we care for
burnt-out carers and generally wash up, serve food, make beds, fetch
and carry...and make wonderful mosaics! I made the most beautiful
table that (if you couldn't tell) I'm super-proud of. Carol, who owns
the place, is the non-stop mother replacement and Andy is the live-in
caretaker who has kidney disease of some sort, so when he's not
pushing himself to accomplish things, he's napping. It's beautiful
here, very green, with a view over the valley and occasional afternoon
thundershowers that roll in, roll over and roll on. Beautiful.

I've been working through a lot of emotional stuff lately, which means
crying for no reason, talking about my childhood, and listening to AJ
Miller talks - this guys who says he's Jesus reincarnated. It is the
most interesting thing, but mostly, he talks about processing the
emotions you have that make you react or act funny or get angry - it's
just about allowing yourself to experience them and then let it go so
you can move on. The thing is, the wounds often go really deep, so
finding the source of the emotion can take a while. I wonder how
they'll take all this emotion at Chenrezig?

What's surprising to me is that I'm realizing I'm excited about
returning to Eugene and exploring the community there - something I've
never done, even though I grew up there. I want to stay in the states
with this community - I'm too attached to family to leave, and the
incomparable country, especially Oregon - and that's a good piece of
honesty for me. Previously, I claimed I couldn't stand to live in the
states because of its political history. Every country has it - who
says that one place is better than another?

And, just to come clean, I won't be silent (But maybe praying, who
knows?) at Chenrezig.