Last night a rainstorm engulfed the mountain. The thunder wakes me before the 3 AM meditation gong. I am overjoyed to experience it. What could complete the picture of this mountain hideaway more than thunder and lightning illuminating drops playing romantic rhythms on the roof? Whether it’s the rain that stills my thoughts or not,…
At 11am, Guay and I head to the office. I don’t think much about this meeting and sit beside Guay while the secretary says whatever she is saying to him. I gather at one point he is telling her that he had a hurt leg and that’s why he couldn’t lotus with the best of…
After breakfast, one of the younger monks and comes up to me and proclaims, “I teach you how to ca-pot.” I am making a mess of my bows to the Buddha and superior monks are noticing. Sometimes my brain puts things in the wrong file. My mind put all Buddhist monks as in the same…
When your brain dreams for the body, it desires bowl after bowl of fresh fruit—pineapple, durian, mangos, watermelon, papaya, melon, grapes, oh grapes!, strawberries, and a dozen fruits only Google knows. When your stomach is honest with itself, it wants you to fill it with pastries made from fresh fruit, coconut fried dough balls, pies,…
My Stomach Tells Me to Run Away from Bear Paw Mountain The Abbot of Bear Paw Mountain is an older man, maybe 70, with black peppered gray hair stubble on his head. He’s laughing and exchanging small talk with four workers excavating a plot of land near the main temple when we approach. He seems…
