Satisfying the Senses

 

Holidays are typically times when many of us eat more and drink more and spend more and are more careless, sometimes even reckless. All such excesses, we consider *rewards* for having survived X number of days in our ordinary workaday lives.

One reason we love holidays so much is mostly because we feel free to indulge our basest impulses – the ones that feed the ego-persona – the ones we usually try to manage on a shorter leash, most of the rest of the year.

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Even *healthy* holidaying, like trekking through a jungle, going down rapids or doing a spot of volunteer work in an African village, is born out of a higher need.

We are often awed by the natural beauty of such places and the innocent resilience of its inhabitants in the face of adversity. This is our prompt to accept what is in our own lives, and not try to control or manipulate from the outside what can only be done from within – from a dynamic mindful observation of ourselves in the present moment, and the ability to be still while flowing.

 

Interestingly, it has become quite financially costly to enrol as a volunteer through most of the international companies that organize such things. Beyond the ‘plane ticket to the location, one can be asked to pay an extra three or four thousand dollars for room, board and various extras for a month-long experience of a very basic lifestyle.

 

This relatively exorbitant sum of money symbolizes a different but much more needed gift - unconditional love, the only genuine thing worth giving anyone in genuine need. Unless we are willing to give unconditionally from our heart – not to barter for recognition as a bleeding heart, a hero or an intrepid adventurer, and not for the thrill of an *experience* into weird territory - that money would be best left in the bank.

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Most, if not all, international AID organizations depend on international government funding and private donations. The control they have over the bagsful that are somehow generated each fiscal year gives the people at the top of such organizations a massive power over the poor and the needy whom it is their mission to help.

 

I believe that this power triggers unhealthy dynamics within the ranks and what was once intended as selfless help has become entangled in red tape and petty values.

The help given and the help received are tainted.

It has become as unhealthy for the givers as it is for the receivers, which goes some way towards explaining why the West, why America particularly – the greatest *giving* of all – are so little appreciated by the populations of emerging countries.

 

“Giving money is exactly like giving food,” says Moriya. “If you don’t prepare the dinner with a lot of pure love, unconditionally, it will be tasteless and it might even be poisonous.”

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Call me cynical, but think for a moment of the egos in crisis if, all of a sudden, the poor were no longer poor and all of the bureaucrats involved with juggernaut international charities found themselves jobless. 

 

“Tibetan exiled spiritual leader the Dalai Lama will leave his home in India on Wednesday for a tour of Western nations, in a bid to keep attention on China's actions in Tibet ahead of the Beijing Olympics. The Dalai Lama will visit Germany, followed by the United States, Australia, Britain and France.”

 

On the 7.30 news, I have occasionally watched such spiritual giants as the late Mother Teresa, the Pope and the Dalai Lama land in New York, Paris or Johannesburg for a whirlwind awareness/fundraising tour. Seats to their lectures are

sold year-in-advance through promotional bookings. Private access is restricted to the world’s few major dignitaries and top-of-glam rock stars.

 

The Dalai Lama has merchandising, such as this Open Arms cap, available from his official website, and travels with an entourage that rivals that of any of the G8 presidents.                         

The Pope has just landed here in Australia, in Sydney, to host the International Youth Day attended by some 500,000 people.

 "It is the biggest gathering of people on earth this year outside the Beijing Olympics," New South Wales cabinet minister Kristina Keneally told AFP. Much to my surprise though, I did not find a single link to merchandising on the Holy See website.

Seriously, what I can but wonder is how these religious people’s spiritual selves manage not only the pace and the hyped hysteria, but also the masses’ concentrated energies that - with all due respect - cannot possibly be that healthy.

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Even *spiritual* destinations can be deceiving. A stint in an ashram; a yoga retreat or a vipassana retreat in a monastery, be it in Cambodia, in Tzechoslovakia or in the hinterland of nearby Byron Bay – they all amount to an indulgence of our ego-persona, cloaked in an aura of spirituality.

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The aim of going there, as in anywhere else, is to *forget* the world in which we live, and we end up practising a form of secluded separation inherent in all organized religion.  The monks do it, the sadhus do it, the nuns do it, the yogis do it, the Zen masters do it, they all do it, except for the Pope who lives in the splendour of the

Vatican, right in the middle of a bustling cosmopolitan city. Although, centuries later, has yet to foster any physical closeness with the locals.

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For us, once on location, there are no stressors beyond having to keep still, be silent and rise with the sun.

We dress up in *funny* clothes.  We are carried along by smoke and mirrors and a string of daily rituals.

We feel holy while we separate ourselves from the material world.

However, it is in our physical world that we need to act and feel and be spiritual – if not quite altogether holy.

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Come to think of it, when we dream of that deserted island and its ubiquitous palm

trees, under which we imagine ourselves swinging gently in a hammock, slowly sipping a drink through a straw, we sigh and we know that for us, there, is paradise. But, of course, it costs the earth to access such moments of earthly but vacuous happiness. Strangely enough, the locals who live *in paradise* usually dream of being elsewhere.

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And in comes Moriya’s implacable assessment of my little dreams of escape. “Why settle for little moments of this fake happiness, C.C, while the wellbeing you are truly after can be yours for free and forever, right here within your day-to-day life, wherever you choose to act it out? A week on an island paradise or on a mountain top doesn’t make a bit of difference to your current life.” She adds, “You agree that, although you enjoy lolling about in the sun, it doesn’t remove any of your anxiety. It doesn’t give you any reliable insight on how to better handle the various hotspots you have going on in your life.


C.C., you also know well that one day back at home and back at work, and already that week in paradise is a thing of the past. Things at home, in your material life, are still exactly how you left them. They are waiting for you, like a faithful dog, on your doorstep, for nothing can be left unfinished. How can you not see that real and constant wellbeing, free of charge - compliments of your connection to your soul - can be yours, just for shifting your mindset by a few degrees?”

 

Candle light shines bright

 

The tiny flame atop a candle glowing in the dark, we know, symbolizes warmth, love and, for some, even our soul, which is probably why candles have always featured so prominently in churches and temples, in one form or another. These tiny flames accompany our wishes and prayers.

 

Millennia-old celebrations like Hanukah, Christmas – celebrations that bring family members together - have candles as a focus, but not because candles are pretty.

Each tiny flame is a reminder today, as in ancient Egypt when Pharaohs celebrated the birthdays of everyone in their households, of the greater light to which we all need to contribute and share.

The same applies to candles lit for *ambience*. It is not a coincidence that candlelight – such a primitive device – is ever present in our digital homes at a time when an array of romantic lighting is easily available to all *off the wall*.