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!"
