Like any good thing it comes and goes.
Friday, the sun is out, last emails and print outs for the Blissful Living workshop I lead this weekend. I am so grateful to finish my time at Esalen with a weekend of teaching. Through the group, the service and the practice I enter a weekend of Bliss and joy.
Thursday afternoon, March 5th will be my last physical day at Esalen. Before I leave I shall hang a show of my work here at Esalen that will remain after I am gone.
Friday morning I leave for Amsterdam where I will meet Hannif and even get to spend a day with Solo. On the 12th I shall land in Dublin to celebrate Fiona and Tony’s Birthdays, with a road trip and St. Patrick's day as a bonus.
I return on March 20th, and will go to Palo Alto where I will teach the Ashtanga Mysore program for the next three months.
Adarsh and Heleen will be away, teaching, and I shall cover their shifts as well as stay at their place. I am very much happy for the opportunity to teach, and having a smooth transition back into the world of money, media signs, and cooking my own food.
It is a big transition. Food shopping, unfamiliar faces, and being in control of all parts of my life. It is the way I always had it, yet had a sweet time in having a schedule, process groups, and a dining hall where I knew there will always be a familiar face.
I am setting an intention to keep studying and teaching, and hope to find constant gratitude to every blade of grass that comes my way.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
There is nothing ordinary about a blade of grass
Being used to constant stimulation, needing constant food for the mind, peace is missing.
Sometimes I see just what is. When not trying to get somewhere, to achieve, then the present, the simple, the mundane is as fascinating, as holy as the great event.
Accepting that it might not be an interesting experience to share with others. That it is so simple, that there is nothing to tell. Yet, it is not boredom. It is simply being here, now, being present, without labeling, without personalizing. A dot is boundless. A blade of grass.
Have an Extra ordinary day.
Sometimes I see just what is. When not trying to get somewhere, to achieve, then the present, the simple, the mundane is as fascinating, as holy as the great event.
Accepting that it might not be an interesting experience to share with others. That it is so simple, that there is nothing to tell. Yet, it is not boredom. It is simply being here, now, being present, without labeling, without personalizing. A dot is boundless. A blade of grass.
Have an Extra ordinary day.
In residence
“I have always wondered what it is like for those that are in residence? How do you move when you are stationary (by choice) as the revolving door of connections, come and go? Where does it take you? Does time have a different meaning?”
This is part of a greater email sent to me by a friend in response to “love beyond identities”. Her question refers to me being a staff resident at Esalen Institute (esalen.org), or any other “centers”, but I can only answer of my experience here.
Sometimes I wonder if we are not all residents somewhere, within a community we create for ourselves. At a place like Esalen it is more transparent and intense from my experience.
Since I eat my meals at the lodge with a great number of people in transit, people that come for a weekend, a week or a month, I get to meet new people constantly.
It is like backpacking while staying in the same place. The cultures, the people and the new experiences come to me, if I am open to receive them.
It is really up to the resident to decide if they would like to take their meal in a box, and eat at home, or participate in the game of new connections, of explorations and of being an anchor as guests come and go.
So many of the guests here are healing or just finding something different than what they have at home. Many want to know about the place or the experience here, others about my life. Indeed the stories might get repetitive for me unless I find a fresh aspect, a relevance to the person I talk to. These are not my stories but rather moments of connections with another, an opportunity to present a gift to another.
It is harder to develop long-term relationships as guests move on while I stay. Many new encounters, but few that can develop in depth. It is with those that come for a month or a year, or permanent staff that the deeper relationships can evolve. Even though since it is such a small permanent community, it also tends to be like a fish bowl, and at times there is fear of getting to close, since there is no hiding from others or from ourselves if things do not work out.
The movement happens in a smaller space, which is only relative. I find myself in so many places through the people I meet. The journey of participating in workshops here takes me on other journeys. Each connection becomes a new time unit, and time is relative to that connection. At times speedy Gonzales and at Times it comes to a halt.
I could imagine that a teller in a bank has some similar experience, but maybe not as in depth; the constant new faces, and the not knowing who will appear next.
Today is Sunday Change Over, a big day, not only do the seminarians leave and new ones arrive, but also work scholars, those that have spent a month here are now departing. Some of the Yearly leave too, as our months at Esalen rotate around the Work scholar month.
So Monday is full of possibilities, of fresh energies, excitement of new beginnings. Will the love of my life enter to be a work scholar in the kitchen? Will it be a group of great working people? Will there be some yummy conversations or will it be a time to go inside?
Being the constant face, the greeting eyes, the open ears, and the storyteller, the one that shares ideas about life and practices, all this can be rejuvenating or very draining, depends on the day, the moon, the person…
This is part of a greater email sent to me by a friend in response to “love beyond identities”. Her question refers to me being a staff resident at Esalen Institute (esalen.org), or any other “centers”, but I can only answer of my experience here.
Sometimes I wonder if we are not all residents somewhere, within a community we create for ourselves. At a place like Esalen it is more transparent and intense from my experience.
Since I eat my meals at the lodge with a great number of people in transit, people that come for a weekend, a week or a month, I get to meet new people constantly.
It is like backpacking while staying in the same place. The cultures, the people and the new experiences come to me, if I am open to receive them.
It is really up to the resident to decide if they would like to take their meal in a box, and eat at home, or participate in the game of new connections, of explorations and of being an anchor as guests come and go.
So many of the guests here are healing or just finding something different than what they have at home. Many want to know about the place or the experience here, others about my life. Indeed the stories might get repetitive for me unless I find a fresh aspect, a relevance to the person I talk to. These are not my stories but rather moments of connections with another, an opportunity to present a gift to another.
It is harder to develop long-term relationships as guests move on while I stay. Many new encounters, but few that can develop in depth. It is with those that come for a month or a year, or permanent staff that the deeper relationships can evolve. Even though since it is such a small permanent community, it also tends to be like a fish bowl, and at times there is fear of getting to close, since there is no hiding from others or from ourselves if things do not work out.
The movement happens in a smaller space, which is only relative. I find myself in so many places through the people I meet. The journey of participating in workshops here takes me on other journeys. Each connection becomes a new time unit, and time is relative to that connection. At times speedy Gonzales and at Times it comes to a halt.
I could imagine that a teller in a bank has some similar experience, but maybe not as in depth; the constant new faces, and the not knowing who will appear next.
Today is Sunday Change Over, a big day, not only do the seminarians leave and new ones arrive, but also work scholars, those that have spent a month here are now departing. Some of the Yearly leave too, as our months at Esalen rotate around the Work scholar month.
So Monday is full of possibilities, of fresh energies, excitement of new beginnings. Will the love of my life enter to be a work scholar in the kitchen? Will it be a group of great working people? Will there be some yummy conversations or will it be a time to go inside?
Being the constant face, the greeting eyes, the open ears, and the storyteller, the one that shares ideas about life and practices, all this can be rejuvenating or very draining, depends on the day, the moon, the person…
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Love beyond identities
(Names have been modified, and some details too. The basis is true…)
“Marhaba to the wonderful guest of my dreams.
Believe it or not every day you visit my dreams.
I must tell you something that maybe you don’t know it - Doron you made me change a lot. You empowered me, you made me be my self and made me braver more appreciate my self, and you empowered my self-confidence also....”
Two weeks earlier I was sitting at the lodge having a nice dinner with a friend.
“OK, so I’m just going to do it, I told my friend. I am not sure what is appropriate, but I’ll ask.” At the same table in the Esalen Lodge sat a Muslim woman with a scarf around her head. I knew she was part of the Arab and Israeli Women group here, but so far I only had the opportunity to speak with the Druze and Israelis.
I realized that even though I grew up in Israel, surrounded by Arabs and Muslims, I never really had a close conversation with a religious Muslim Woman, and so was not even sure of the correct manners in such a situation.
“Do you mind if I sit?” I asked her. She raised her head towards me. She was young, maybe late 20’s, dressed in a contemporary western style, including jeans and a long sweater, no make up and her hair was completely hidden.
We followed with a quick introduction of names and such…“Are you enjoying the conference?” “Not really, with the whole situation at home, it is very difficult for me. I have a lot of anger about the situation.”
We spoke of where she is from and what brought her here. … Why America and why this group. We immediately switched to Hebrew, as we both were more fluent in it than English. ”I would love to learn Arabic. I always feel weird when I meet an Arab and we talk in Hebrew.” “Why would you want to learn Arabic?” “I always feel that I know more of the other culture if I can speak their language. It also makes the other feel more at home. Speaking Arabic would be a bridge for communication.”
The next day at the lodge, as I was having my lunch, she sat across from me. Are you ready for your first lesson?” I sipped my tea and realized that we barely have two weeks. “Maybe just some info about where to study in Israel? I asked.
“You seem like an intelligent man; lets see what you pick up. I would just want to tell you one agreement I need from you. You cannot touch me. I know there is a lot of touching and hugging here at Esalen and you always seem to be surrounded by people hugging you.”
“I understand and respect that” I said looking straight into her dark brown eyes.
So we started with greetings and simple sentences.
Some of the important things I learned right at the first lesson were greetings, How are you? What do you do? And are you married? Next was how old are you?
She taught me many ways of replying; I am sad, not so great, I feel angry. I had to ask for some more ways of responding with a positive answer.
“ What are important questions you need to know when you meet a girl” she asked me, so after marriage and age we moved to astrological sign and favorite color.
During the meals I found myself one man amongst many woman, women of all ages, very warm and friendly. It was great to join them for meals. It was where it was happening; laughter, excitement, and sometimes even dancing on the table to Arabic tunes. I was their native in a foreign land. I was remembered of my own culture and the immediate intimacy as many of them were trying to set me up with their daughters, sisters or other relatives. It was like a mission for some of them, the questions and inquiries, a lot of warmth.
I kept meeting with her for Arabic lessons. Really after the second lesson, it started drifting to talks about life and values, personally rather than theoretically. The hot spring baths came up, as it is such a dominant part of Esalen. “Why do you have o go naked? Can’t you wear a swimsuit?” “ It is legit to wear a swimsuit” I responded, “Yet why would I? I don’t wear one in the shower at home. I am in a bath, then I shower and when I leave the area I do get dressed. It feels natural and since everyone is naked in the baths it does not become a big deal”.
It is not that she was going to give it a try, especially if she might be seeing a man naked, but it seems like it made some sense to her. “OK, so lets say that the bath is for self cleaning, why go naked in the swimming pool? “ I have not seemed to convince her as much here, and the only request she had was that I not go there naked while she is at Esalen, since she might see me. (The pool is vision distance from the lodge where people mostly meet).
We sat on the bench overlooking the ocean at sunset. After speaking of Islam and the creator, of praying and religious laws, I told her that I do not believe in God. I was amazed to see that she kept listening, that the questions I proposed went deep, and she considered them. Indeed a life long of believes in one-way are not about to change in a moment, and it was also not my intention. Only to share with her my perspective as learn about hers, accepting it as is.
We stared at the ocean, silence, a butterfly passed by and the colors of sky and ocean just kept getting more intense after the sun was no longer visible. “This is it!” I told her, just what we see now. No explanation for where it is from, why and how, just this glorious moment.
She inhaled deeply.
Another day we found ourselves in the community house, reviewing our Arabic so far. I was having some basic conversation with her. She really is a fantastic teacher. First we start with a review, I am never allowed to look at my notebook, then we add some new words and then we drift to other subjects and speak in Hebrew.
“I have something for you. I made it myself.” It was a beautiful beaded piece, with a clip on one end and three threads beaded with beautiful fashion, creating a symbolic peace ornament. The beads were of earthy and creamy tones, very much like her. “These are my favorite colors,” she said while smiling shyly as she handed it to me. Our hands barely touch as I accept her gift. She then went on to talk about her personal feelings. The man she would like to find, her family relationship, the power of her older brother on her life since her dad passed away, the role she plays as an educated woman in her family and the tradition that is still so alive back home.
Realizing how much power her older brother has on her life, just cause he is the man, she tells me of all her wise and sophisticated techniques to still get what she wants. To me it seemed like such a huge effort to achieve what is most mundane in other cultures. It is either following the tradition or risking loosing the family she so loves. There was a feeling of intimacy, of great trust and reveal. As I held the beads in my hand like a mala, they were caressing her hand underneath. It was getting darker“.
I need to talk,” she said one eve. “It was an intense night for me last night. In the group I was encouraged to speak up, to say what I am going through.” She was the more timid one from what I understood. Strong feelings she learned to tame.
“I spoke my truth, and it came out strong. I was given a tennis racket to hit the pillows symbolically, there was crying in the group, it was strong. I had so much anger towards your people. After that I did not want to see anyone. Only you. I wanted to talk to you. I knew you were in the kitchen, but didn’t want to disturb. I passed by the door a few times. I really needed a hug.”
I swallowed, as touch or a hug always seemed to be such a big no no for her.
I was completely honored that she managed to see me for who I am, let go of any identity I was given, realize that I am not Israel or the Jewish religion, but just me. This was one of the most delightful moments of my life.
On the day before her departure, we went on a motorcycle ride. She asked for it a bunch of times, but was concerned if she can be on it without touching me. “ I am wearing a big Jacket that is fully padded,” I said with a teasing smile.
She had such a wild passion caged in her, a readiness to explore, a will to feel completely, and every time something came up, her mind jumped in and told her what was right or wrong to do. It was fascinating to see what seemed to me, the inner struggle between what her instinct was calling her to do and what her logic, or conditioned mind was telling her. I always tried to stay neutral, to allow her to come to the decisions on her own. I would only present my way of doing things, never suggesting that it is the way for anyone else.
When we returned from the ride, we had dinner and then went outside under the stars to say farewell. “I want to thank you for allowing me to be with my self, with my body and emotions. To realize that there is more than what I think and that it’s ok to listen to it sometimes. Thank you for noticing all the little things in me, for caring and letting me feel safe… I have something for you”. She presented me with a large book. It was her final university project about Muslim women in Israeli education system. “It was meant for someone else, but you are the one that deserves this”.
I knew the journey has only begun. That under different circumstances things might be different. We spoke of soul connections, of Love, of intimacy; possibilities.
This was a powerful moment for me. Really managing to meet a person of the most opposite beliefs and ideas (on the surface at least), and to find a human meeting point, a similar place beyond societies’ identities. Seeing clearly through the fog of conditioning, we have created a bridge, a seed for peace. I feel great gratitude to her for the openness, willingness and love shared. May this understanding keep passing on to all those that share conflict.
“Marhaba to the wonderful guest of my dreams.
Believe it or not every day you visit my dreams.
I must tell you something that maybe you don’t know it - Doron you made me change a lot. You empowered me, you made me be my self and made me braver more appreciate my self, and you empowered my self-confidence also....”
Two weeks earlier I was sitting at the lodge having a nice dinner with a friend.
“OK, so I’m just going to do it, I told my friend. I am not sure what is appropriate, but I’ll ask.” At the same table in the Esalen Lodge sat a Muslim woman with a scarf around her head. I knew she was part of the Arab and Israeli Women group here, but so far I only had the opportunity to speak with the Druze and Israelis.
I realized that even though I grew up in Israel, surrounded by Arabs and Muslims, I never really had a close conversation with a religious Muslim Woman, and so was not even sure of the correct manners in such a situation.
“Do you mind if I sit?” I asked her. She raised her head towards me. She was young, maybe late 20’s, dressed in a contemporary western style, including jeans and a long sweater, no make up and her hair was completely hidden.
We followed with a quick introduction of names and such…“Are you enjoying the conference?” “Not really, with the whole situation at home, it is very difficult for me. I have a lot of anger about the situation.”
We spoke of where she is from and what brought her here. … Why America and why this group. We immediately switched to Hebrew, as we both were more fluent in it than English. ”I would love to learn Arabic. I always feel weird when I meet an Arab and we talk in Hebrew.” “Why would you want to learn Arabic?” “I always feel that I know more of the other culture if I can speak their language. It also makes the other feel more at home. Speaking Arabic would be a bridge for communication.”
The next day at the lodge, as I was having my lunch, she sat across from me. Are you ready for your first lesson?” I sipped my tea and realized that we barely have two weeks. “Maybe just some info about where to study in Israel? I asked.
“You seem like an intelligent man; lets see what you pick up. I would just want to tell you one agreement I need from you. You cannot touch me. I know there is a lot of touching and hugging here at Esalen and you always seem to be surrounded by people hugging you.”
“I understand and respect that” I said looking straight into her dark brown eyes.
So we started with greetings and simple sentences.
Some of the important things I learned right at the first lesson were greetings, How are you? What do you do? And are you married? Next was how old are you?
She taught me many ways of replying; I am sad, not so great, I feel angry. I had to ask for some more ways of responding with a positive answer.
“ What are important questions you need to know when you meet a girl” she asked me, so after marriage and age we moved to astrological sign and favorite color.
During the meals I found myself one man amongst many woman, women of all ages, very warm and friendly. It was great to join them for meals. It was where it was happening; laughter, excitement, and sometimes even dancing on the table to Arabic tunes. I was their native in a foreign land. I was remembered of my own culture and the immediate intimacy as many of them were trying to set me up with their daughters, sisters or other relatives. It was like a mission for some of them, the questions and inquiries, a lot of warmth.
I kept meeting with her for Arabic lessons. Really after the second lesson, it started drifting to talks about life and values, personally rather than theoretically. The hot spring baths came up, as it is such a dominant part of Esalen. “Why do you have o go naked? Can’t you wear a swimsuit?” “ It is legit to wear a swimsuit” I responded, “Yet why would I? I don’t wear one in the shower at home. I am in a bath, then I shower and when I leave the area I do get dressed. It feels natural and since everyone is naked in the baths it does not become a big deal”.
It is not that she was going to give it a try, especially if she might be seeing a man naked, but it seems like it made some sense to her. “OK, so lets say that the bath is for self cleaning, why go naked in the swimming pool? “ I have not seemed to convince her as much here, and the only request she had was that I not go there naked while she is at Esalen, since she might see me. (The pool is vision distance from the lodge where people mostly meet).
We sat on the bench overlooking the ocean at sunset. After speaking of Islam and the creator, of praying and religious laws, I told her that I do not believe in God. I was amazed to see that she kept listening, that the questions I proposed went deep, and she considered them. Indeed a life long of believes in one-way are not about to change in a moment, and it was also not my intention. Only to share with her my perspective as learn about hers, accepting it as is.
We stared at the ocean, silence, a butterfly passed by and the colors of sky and ocean just kept getting more intense after the sun was no longer visible. “This is it!” I told her, just what we see now. No explanation for where it is from, why and how, just this glorious moment.
She inhaled deeply.
Another day we found ourselves in the community house, reviewing our Arabic so far. I was having some basic conversation with her. She really is a fantastic teacher. First we start with a review, I am never allowed to look at my notebook, then we add some new words and then we drift to other subjects and speak in Hebrew.
“I have something for you. I made it myself.” It was a beautiful beaded piece, with a clip on one end and three threads beaded with beautiful fashion, creating a symbolic peace ornament. The beads were of earthy and creamy tones, very much like her. “These are my favorite colors,” she said while smiling shyly as she handed it to me. Our hands barely touch as I accept her gift. She then went on to talk about her personal feelings. The man she would like to find, her family relationship, the power of her older brother on her life since her dad passed away, the role she plays as an educated woman in her family and the tradition that is still so alive back home.
Realizing how much power her older brother has on her life, just cause he is the man, she tells me of all her wise and sophisticated techniques to still get what she wants. To me it seemed like such a huge effort to achieve what is most mundane in other cultures. It is either following the tradition or risking loosing the family she so loves. There was a feeling of intimacy, of great trust and reveal. As I held the beads in my hand like a mala, they were caressing her hand underneath. It was getting darker“.
I need to talk,” she said one eve. “It was an intense night for me last night. In the group I was encouraged to speak up, to say what I am going through.” She was the more timid one from what I understood. Strong feelings she learned to tame.
“I spoke my truth, and it came out strong. I was given a tennis racket to hit the pillows symbolically, there was crying in the group, it was strong. I had so much anger towards your people. After that I did not want to see anyone. Only you. I wanted to talk to you. I knew you were in the kitchen, but didn’t want to disturb. I passed by the door a few times. I really needed a hug.”
I swallowed, as touch or a hug always seemed to be such a big no no for her.
I was completely honored that she managed to see me for who I am, let go of any identity I was given, realize that I am not Israel or the Jewish religion, but just me. This was one of the most delightful moments of my life.
On the day before her departure, we went on a motorcycle ride. She asked for it a bunch of times, but was concerned if she can be on it without touching me. “ I am wearing a big Jacket that is fully padded,” I said with a teasing smile.
She had such a wild passion caged in her, a readiness to explore, a will to feel completely, and every time something came up, her mind jumped in and told her what was right or wrong to do. It was fascinating to see what seemed to me, the inner struggle between what her instinct was calling her to do and what her logic, or conditioned mind was telling her. I always tried to stay neutral, to allow her to come to the decisions on her own. I would only present my way of doing things, never suggesting that it is the way for anyone else.
When we returned from the ride, we had dinner and then went outside under the stars to say farewell. “I want to thank you for allowing me to be with my self, with my body and emotions. To realize that there is more than what I think and that it’s ok to listen to it sometimes. Thank you for noticing all the little things in me, for caring and letting me feel safe… I have something for you”. She presented me with a large book. It was her final university project about Muslim women in Israeli education system. “It was meant for someone else, but you are the one that deserves this”.
I knew the journey has only begun. That under different circumstances things might be different. We spoke of soul connections, of Love, of intimacy; possibilities.
This was a powerful moment for me. Really managing to meet a person of the most opposite beliefs and ideas (on the surface at least), and to find a human meeting point, a similar place beyond societies’ identities. Seeing clearly through the fog of conditioning, we have created a bridge, a seed for peace. I feel great gratitude to her for the openness, willingness and love shared. May this understanding keep passing on to all those that share conflict.
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