"God loves everybody, don't remind me." The National, Graceless. November 1st, 2013.
A year ago this month I was falling in love and having one of the best birthdays of my life. Today I feel down, but on the upside I've learnt to meditate properly and the greatest love in my life would now be a child.
I saw The Child this week and he asked me what the would be the "best thing of my entire life". I asked what he meant - the best thing that I've done, or the thing that others would think of as success, or just what feels good to me? He said "just what feels good to you". So I said it was to love and have loved. To know that sometimes I have talked to people and it's made them feel better. Sometimes people are very sad and I know that at least once I've made a difference to someone who was so sad that they wanted to die. The Child is nine and when we hang out we usually talk about which super powers we want the most, but every now and then it gets pretty deep.
So, "what about you?" I asked.
"Well," he said, serious and sweet, "this is my best feeling thing. When I'm with you. And when I'm with the dogs ..."
This is high praise. He loves those dogs, so for me to get in with the dogs ... well that broke my heart open. I knew what he meant too - that he feels safe and happy and full of playfulness when we get together. I'm an extra safety net for the heart of a child, so even though I'm struggling with feelings of sadness today I know that my life is worthwhile. Yes, I know it's worthwhile anyway, but it's useful for me to think of something beautiful or good, something that reminds me of why we bother playing out this whole thing (life) at all.
I did a short Vipassana course about a week ago. Three days. It was 'good', but when Goenka's recorded voice told us that to be a serious practitioner of Vipassana it was best to be celibate I found myself slowing shaking my head from side to side. I wondered how many other people were doing the same.
I get it of course. The advice may have made a lot of sense for the men it was first designed for, especially when the first bit says "no raping". I tend to think this kind of thing would be great for the many men in jails who have been taught the Vipassana method of meditation. It's unlikely many men would be jailed for rape in India unless it was extreme and resulted in the woman's death as happened in the New Dehli bus attack in December 2012. I know that there are female molesters and rapists, but they are relatively rare compared to the numbers of men.
In the same breath, Goenka warns against taking mind altering substances including 'the alcohol'. Beware the alcohol as before you know it you'll be stealing a small Yak from a beautiful woman's neighbour, killing it (fucking it first perhaps, depends what you're into), eating it, fucking the woman, then waking up and sorrowfully blaming that temptress for leading you down the path of passion. Dunno about you, but I'm a bit sick of all the stories in which women are leading men off the path of good (Christian stories are particularly rich with it).
I have my limits firmly in place when it comes to substances, so if a hot farmer beckons me as I'm leaving Kaukapakapa I'm pretty sure I won't steal his neighbours livestock so that he can roast me a lamb. I also can't imagine I would immediately leap into his bed after a few glasses of wine (I was celibate for an entire year whilst living in Korea, I do have standards).
Imagine this little scenario:
"Well love, you look a bit tired, all that hippy shit worn you out has it? Maybe you'd like to join me in my king sized manly bed for a bit of rest?"
"Oh what are you thinking?! I'm practically a nun for the love of meditating and bringing peace to the world! I can't jump into your incredibly comfortable bed and allow you to pleasure me!"
"Ah ha ha, okay then, long as you're sure ... but you must be hungry ... just grab a little lamb from Wally Ditherall from next door and I'll make us a beauty of a roast ..."
"Oh, but I can't steal, that would be breaking my precepts, what are you man, mad?"
"Ha ha ha," he slaps a meaty farm worked thigh, "just kidding love, I know you take that shit seriously. Hey, tell you what, you'll sleep a lot better on the floor of my cow shed after you've had a wine. My mum left some here after she visited yesterday."
"Ohh, actually, a glass of wine would be good ..." and before I knew it there was blood on my hands and a farmer in my dell.
I'm meant to go for a day's meditation tomorrow but don't know if I can handle it. Perhaps this wave of sadness is just the debris coming loose after doing the retreat? It's a purification process, so a bit of crying is probably in order.
When it gets too much I just think "I'm one of the best feeling things in the life of a child, so it must be okay".
Tomorrow I'm going to the beach with Handsome Rob and right now The Sexy ex just called and wants to see me. Hmm. Time to mediate.
