Reflection: (Part 1) A Trip Across Countries and Continents

In my last blog I wrote about where I went in the summer and descriptions of places I went. If you haven't read that, check it out in my blogs section!

Now it's time for the learnings and reflections part. Here, I'll talk about, first, what I learned in the summer, and then, reflections. Not just like 'I could have done this better', but more of the thoughts that I had after I did something. More like philosophy, that is. So read on, because this blog will not be about images and action, but about the mind—my thoughts, that is. And while reading, my thoughts here will become part of yours, and you will have, then, your own thoughts.

Again, I'll start with Chengdu and the Buddhist meditation camp I went to there. What I learned there has changed my life drastically. For one that has never learned or been interested in meditation, it might seem boring, dull, to think to sit there and 'do nothing'. In life, when we want to do something well, we have to train our bodies—practice form, go to the gym. Repetition of a certain move teaches your body to do it well, and it is what we do when we train for anything. In math, we do problems over and over, in tennis, we hit shots over and over, when we want more muscles, we go to the gym and do certain moves over and over. The same thing applies for one's mind. If we want our minds to listen to us, to focus on something, we have to train it as well. In meditation, we train our minds to focus and be aware.

Try this: sit down and close your eyes, and feel, as you breath, your stomach moving up and down slowly. When it moves up, tag it—up, when it moves down, tag it—down. And repeat. Easy, right? But often your mind moves off to think about other things—it can't settle down and focus. Or you might feel sleepy—another sign that the mind can't focus. Don't worry. When you realize that, just bring your mind back to you stomach moving up and down again.

During the camp, one should be mindful of movement when sitting, when standing, when walking, when eating, and if possible, be aware of emotions as well. Through training like this, one trains the mind to be more controlled and calm. There are many benefits of meditation, both in mind and body. For the mind, it gets to relax, and when it is aware and focused on one thing, it has less stress, letting one's mind to be more ready and active when needed. One would also get angry or have strong emotions less. Being mindful of the emotions one helps the mind control the emotions—to be more calm and thoughtful. When your mind is relaxed and calm, your body gets to relaxed as well. One's state of mind can affect one's body more than people realize. People who get angry often have an increased risk of developing heart diseases, and anger, the emotion by itself, could cause heart rate and blood pressure to go up as well.

These benefits are just the surface of what Buddhism might bring you. There are many other things that I have yet to learn as well. Buddhism claims that practicing mindfulness can lead to Nirvana and Moksha, the end of all pain and the end of one being reincarnated as a living being. As far away as these can seem, Buddhism encourages one to be critical about what they say, and practice meditation themselves in order to prove for themselves whether or not it is true. I have yet to do that, and have no say in the matter, but if you are interested, you could read 'Why Buddhism is True' by Robert Wright, or 'A Map of the Journey', by Sayadaw U Jotika.

This camp did change a lot how I view life, and I have a significantly different view on life and my purpose than I do now. It is this camp and a book my english teacher suggested I read ('I am a Strange Loop' by Douglas Hofstadter) that sparked my interest in philosophy. Throughout the rest of the trip, I have taken the time to reflect what type of life I wanted to have. These reflections took place when I experienced, saw, or heard something. An trigger, inspiration of sorts.

In Changsha, the bustling, busy city, that is still vibrantly alive even after midnight, I spent a lot of my time, too, after midnight watching soccer, eating food, playing video games. I always went to bed with my eyelids drooping from staying up, and I woke up in the morning fuzzy and dizzy, and the first thing I would do was pick up my phone. Well, this was not a life that I would live for quite obvious reasons: the sheer lack of focus and thinking, the unhealthiness of staying up every night, and just not doing anything productive, but just wasting my time through the happiness of shallow and physical things.

My next reflection moment came when I worked in my grandmother's garden in Yangzhou. She lived a life completely different from the people in Changsha. She slept early, and woke up early in the morning to check on her plants, and take some that were ready to wash and be cooked by my grandfather. During the hot summer, she often wakes up around 4:30 to avoid the heat of the sun. Living like this may seem like a pain for many, but my grandmother enjoys planting, then caring for the plants, and the eventual moment when she can eat the harvested crops she planted and spent time on. I think, compared to my life in Changsha, this was one that I would prefer to live. She is happy caring for plants, from getting the soil correct, to planting, to watering, to harvesting. The plants are something she fostered and she watched grow up, and spent a lot of her energy on. The pride of finally harvesting and getting a taste of good, fresh vegetables is happiness on a much higher level than one who watches TV. It is a happiness that one can only get from hard work and doing something one loves, and not happiness readily prepared behind a screen.

I took from this a decision to do what I love, no matter the money I make, no matter what others think of me. I do not think it worthy in life to pursue making money or to pursue shallow happiness. I want to experience happiness knowing that I worked for it, I love it, and I deserve it. I would prefer to have no money and do something I love rather than have all the money in the world and do something I hate.

With this realization, I moved on to become a counselor for children during a summer camp. After the camp, I wrote a reflection on taking care. If you are interested in the full version, read Reflection: Taking Care here. On this blog, however, I will be talking about how the experience changed my view on life. What I saw in the summer camp was how tired all the teachers were, especially the Bhante who was the head of the whole camp. He often solved disputes with children personally, made speeches about Buddhism and its principles to the kids, and had to drive to the parents' camp which was going on at the same time and help them as well. One more thing I wanted to mention was that none of the parents had or were forced to pay for the summer camp (they could donate if they wanted), and the teachers and the Bhante did this out of hope that the children could be acquainted, or at least, plant a seed of Buddhism in their minds.

When normal people do service, they do it to help people who need it, usually those who 'lack' something in a way, such as the poor, old or the disabled. Or they give to a community by providing things for it, whether that be family, friends, or a club. However, what the Bhante and other Buddhists believe is that every being in this entire world should have the opportunity to learn about Buddhism, because it is the only path to Nirvana and the end of the cycle of life. Although I am not sure if that is true, I greatly admire his will to, at whatever cost, give what he can to anyone he can. He wanted to take as many students to the camp as possible, no matter how busy and tiring it might be. His voice was extremely hoarse at the end of the camp, but he still continued to guide the kids and their parents. The giving he does is different from the service most people and I have done—it is the same for all living beings, no matter if they are rich, poor, kind, evil. It is a compassion, kindness, and benevolence he holds for all beings, and it is grand and great.

Though I might never have the compassion that he has, I can still do my part to 'give'. From this, I learned that 'giving' does not need to be for a certain group of people, but for everyone and everything. Giving does not mean one has to give an object, but it could be emotional. Providing guidance, kindness, a voice that speaks up, an ear that listens—these are all forms of giving. Yet so often in life am I angry, worried, or obsessed with an emotion or object that I cannot be kind. These negative emotions I resolve to avoid, as they provide nothing helpful except damage and destroy in both mind and body. And I will do my best to 'give' when I can, benefitting both myself and others.