(This entry condenses days three and four from my written journal into one entry for brevity.)

“Where did all the Israelis come from?”, I pondered at 06:45 whilst meditating in a room of fourteen people, four of them Israeli — including the monk leading the trance. I’ve surprised myself. I wasn’t sure that I’d make it this far. I agree with many of the Buddhist teachings, in terms of the behaviours of individuals, the masses and the way the mind works. For me, I just wish it wasn’t wrapped-up in all the religious fanfare. We learnt that all the answers are within us and we–alone–can achieve our our individual enlightenment. So why the fifteen-foot prayer wheel? And why does our meditation leader perform an awkward-looking stand, kneel, touch-forehead-against-floor genuflect three times each time he enters the gompa?*

Having said that, today I’ve decided to take a more relaxed view on Buddhism. Whilst I don’t agree with much of the content, from external appearances I’d guess that many of the folks in my daily discussion group are happy to pick and choose the bits that they want — instead of, like me, getting hung-up on the snippets that they don’t like. On a simplistic level, I’d say that Buddhism attempts to guide the individual to lead a better life; to help them to do the right thing and not the wrong. For my own understanding of right and wrong, I blame good parenting — but I acknowledge that not everyone has been fortunate to get this for various reasons. If Buddhism provides a construct in which people feel better about themselves and lead a more positive life, then who am I to rain on their parade?

Lunch was almost better today. A sort-of vegetable chilli con carne with rice. Unfortunately, from the taste I’d say that the chef sneezed as he was timidly sprinkling salt from the two kilo bag over the pan and accidently emptied the lot into mix.

The afternoon teaching session provided a bit of light relief. The class was shouting out the opposites of the “ten non-virtuous acts” to create a list of “ten virtuous acts” that as budding Buddhists we must perform. So “killing” becomes “preserving life”. “Stealing” becomes “giving”. My joke: The opposite of “sexual misconduct” is surely “sexual conduct”. For a beautiful moment the room fell about laughing, before the words “respect one another” were committed to the whiteboard. Well, it was worth a try wasn’t it?

The evening soup was much better tonight. Bits of potato had been added to give the broth some much-needed bulk and I only had to empty half the pepper mill to induce some flavour. The dessert took a turn for the worse, though. Tonight’s offering was “a bowl of warm milk”. In class today, our teacher commented that as Buddhists walk along the path of enlightenment, they become able to see into people’s minds. When he looked at mine, I apologised for the mess up there and explained that I hadn’t tidied-up for a while. The joke was completely lost on him, but it’s worth opening up my thoughts to the cooks I suppose:

Dear Chef,

If you can mind-read, please may I request the pasta in warm, sweet milk that you did the other night. It was the best dessert thus far and I would welcome it again. Oh, and Claire doesn’t much like papaya so maybe you could offer a different fruit for breakfast to make her happy? Also, I don’t want to come across rude, but the soup really needs some attention. Perhaps you could offer something other than soup for dinner one day? Even a cheese cob would do.

Yours sincerely,

DaveB’s mind.

The final meditation tonight was on death. I find myself either fidgeting or snoozing during my attempts. Either way, not really focusing on the matter in hand. I gather from her demeanour afterwards, Squiffy had a hard time with the meditation. I offered to break silence if she wanted to talk, but she ushered me away. I hope she’s OK. (She later told me that it found it useful.)

Also, I’m happy to report some improvement to my sleeping environment. Sick of waking-up with an aching back and shoulders, I’ve taken matters into my own hands and raided two further ultra-slim futons from other (unused) beds. I now have a triple decker atop the lousy wooden frame and I reckon the upgrade puts my bed on par with a broken sofa provided by a skinflint landlord in student digs. Right now, it’s bliss!

* Sometime later in the course, these question came up. Our teacher indicated that the prayer wheel and genuflecting (my word, not his) were used by some as “triggers”, i.e. tools to aid one’s internal journey along the path to enlightenment, and could not replace the journey itself. (Claire adds: To clarify, Buddhism does not have a God. As I understand it, “prayers” are about wishing others well and taking time to reflect.)

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