Life as a model in Paradise

Before I start, I am in absolute love with Indonesia. I've met a great friend from the past and life's path has brought me to model for clothing with Harley Davidson motorcycles. Thousand thanks to him Bobby and his great brand Dekke with wonderfull designs for shoes, t-shirts, rash vests, shorts and more.
Indonesia is a paradise for clothing, everything is cheap and good quality. I also discovered a great place that I wont mention the name to keep it's beauty for the lucky ones. It's a surfing spot where the surfing vibe reigns at all times and where I've met only great people between surf sessions in the stormy waves.
Life has been great, but sleeping short hours and learning, enjoying and indulging in everything but the skins pleasures(which I do miss). I don't drink anymore(or almost, had on Bintang beer at the beach), but the cheap price of cigarretes make it harder to stop this bad habit. Soon, it will come.
I still practice meditation but not as frequently and intensly as I would want.
I've also met Ricky and his crew, who also make clothes and it's been fun hanging out together. Tried local meals and visiting the beautifull city of Bandung.

Feeling the flow of real LOVE 

The sunshine after the storm

What a great couple of days I've been through. I feel like the ugly duck transformed itself into a gorgeous swan.  After the last blog I went to the beach in India where the Typhoon had stepped 2 weeks before and met a couple of really cool guys studying there. But after one day of fun, India put a knife at my throat and tried to kill me. I almost lost a finger, I got really sick with almost 39 Celsius of fever, where I couldn't get out of my bed for almost 24 hours. I kept thinking that destiny kicked me in the groin and left me for dead, but it was just so I could wake up in paradise after a long flight.
I made a promise to myself, not step foot in India again for a long time. You can love that country as much as you want, but for me, I prefer to keep my sorrows and misery hidden deep under a carpet, in the dark corners of a closet and never look at them again. In India everything is in plain sight and I think it's what got to me. I am still glad to have met such cool people and it's the thing that got me going and the reason for those 5 long weeks.
That plane to Indonesia was a blessing, people are friendly, hardworking, streets are clean and India's misery is nowhere to be seen. No more garbage, no more decaying rooms, no more beggars, no more dead, no more pain.
I also re-met Boxu(Bobby), a cool singer, surfer and passionate Indonesian from CouchSurfing that I met 4 years ago in Bali, which is like a brother to me now. He makes great surfing clothing(DEKKE) and puts a lot of time into details and quality control. The prices are amazing and if his clothing would get to North America it would make ferocious concurrence in the clothing industry. The only thing missing is the contacts to make it happen, but one step at a time gets anybody to its goals.
We went together to his friend's Ricky, a cool guy playing the keyboard in a famous rock band in Indonesia(Five Minutes) and who also has a share in the clothing industry. I got 2 t-shirts in exchange of a photo shoot that I put up in:
http://picasaweb.google.com/106908159456560056891/20120118_201202xx_Bandung
It was great hanging out with Ricky and his friends, together with Boxu. I finally get to enjoy the insides of local life, since travelers usually hang out together in touristy places looking for parties and other same colored skin people.
It's a great chance to learn the language and have a feel of the real life from an outsider point of view. I feel blessed. Heading out to the beach today hopefully to catch some waves and reunite with my element.
Didn't meditate much lately, but will do it as often as I can.

Peace and Love

The silence of the monks

YOUUUUUHHHHHHOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, feels great to feel the vibrations of my vocal chords again. What an insane feeling and what a refill in the experience department.
I could probably write a book about each one of the 10 infinite days, but then again it would ruin the moment like explaining a classic movie to someone about the see it.
It's like...no wait...let's start the story at another point...in time...
It's around 16:03:12 and I'm sitting feelingless in the same usual spot trying to force the timer of eternity to change gears. I look outside, people moving in invisible protective bubbles from point A to point B, pure machines programmed to ... What is the difference between that immobile screen that reacts to my typing and those blinding force fields around us ants. Looking at my watch anxiously 16:04:03. I can feel my heart stretching my ribs and my salty cuticles mixing with saliva between my stressed teeth...
Everything becomes blank and when I get back to reality I don't know the time, but I see my dad driving in his car. My chest is getting smaller, I'm fighting for air, there's tension in the air and I can feel the benevolence and sadness in this great tired man. Some air gets angrily through my twisted throat  and I realize that I'm about to go once again into the unknown, releasing the soft and tender hand of comfort for the cold and scary darkened part of the map. I can see that even if his defenses are up and he seems to be doing small talk, he can feel my fear and his soul is caring for mine, even if I haven't always been there for him. A tear breaks the echo of time and I can feel just so much love for this human being that I've growed apart from during the last years of my independence. Through all the fog of inconfort, we get to the airport, I get my convertible house on my back and hug my dad gently with all the love that I can, trying not to awake any old pains.
This is how it all starts once again...planes, buses, faces, trees, customs, habits...everything blanks just to come back to...
The vehicle stops, it's a dirty old tuktuk, the driver playing deep inside his nose, points with the other hand a muddy road that seems to lead nowhere. Keeping the habit of looking at my watch as if I was afraid to lose a second, it's 11:17:xx. I'm about to walk into a small jungle where the Vipasana meditation center hides it's existence. I pay the man, who's using the same finger now to get something out of his teeth, and a shiver crosser my spine in disgust. About 2 minutes later, I enter the gates of my new and only isolated world for the next 10 days. Again the heart is beating fast, sweat is running pushed by gravity and I breathe hard while surrounding bugs take shots at my delicious milky skin as if I was a big pile of ice cream. Eventually more future meditators come with a clumsy look and the fantastic adventure seems less threatening as it usually does when a group is formed.
First night is only day zero, where I learn to face the horrifying link I have to bigger bugs. My room is dirty, but at least I'm alone and I can stretch in my own privacy.
Once again I don't have the intention of spoiling something great by explaining the simple technique, I just feel like sharing some of the top experiences of those up and downers 10 days.

From the first days I noticed that the 2 main challenges at my level, will be the bugs and the uncomfortable position needed to keep concentration, but I was far from the truth since the real challenge as with everything in my life is to fight the biggest and most powerful enemy which is...obvious...

Second day, filled with excitement to experience the magic of something that came to my ears full of compliments. The wind of hope was inflating my sails and I integrated the silent practice of this meditation technique. But....if you look at the pictures on my gmail, you'll see that the schedule includes around 10h30 of pure meditation and sitting per day which eventually will break even the happier thought out of your spine and legs. By night I felt the frustration drenched in sweat from the jacket I used to fight the unfulfilled stings of mosquitoes. Couldn't concentrate and by the end of the night on the way back to the room I saw a HUGE ENORMOUS fear of 1 little inch of eight legged plenty of staring eyes arachnid. My panic alarm was sounding with all its madness. The inner voice was shouting "children and woman first...save yourselves". I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure that was a panic attack and throughout the night I would wake up grasping for air and considering running away , escaping from that hellhole. What a great thing fear is, but eventually I fallen asleep and something must have cheered the dreams, because the next morning was energetic and filled with singing birds.

The main thing about this third day is a somewhat cultural shock, since one of the meditators that I will call "burpy" without any bad intentions, decided to let ripping burping noises about every 2-5 minutes which broke the magic of meditation and made us (probably more the foreigners) get back to the hurting joints that occupied the reality of non-meditation. Again, I don't mean any disrespect and different values or importance associated to our everyday tasks are not important as long as the intention is sincere and honest.

With so much silence and time to explore the wonders and mosntruosities of oneself, many memories arises to the surface. Things that I saved on old brain vinyl discs and stored deep underground in the mist of unconsciousness. No point in sharing, but we've all had our share of good and bad experiences which haunt us from time to time and that we either hide or learn to live with. Day 4 was particularly filled with deep secret intense memories.

After that intense revival, came day five, with a painful neck bulge, probably caused by the stop smoking 7 days before. I felt sick, couldn't stop coughing and the pain tolerance during the meditation sitting was low. Eventually by night again like the second day, my envy to screw everything and pack my bags came to me again. This time is was the nightly recorded speech from the creator of this technique that charmed my good senses back into remaining and giving it a try for another day with the firm intention to leave if shit kept hitting the fan.

Woke up filled with a brand new energy, the one of a desperate man who would give everything before losing the battle. Only my old friend stubbornness kept me going and "god knows" that is friend is tenacious. He came in handy a couple of times before rising the Phoenix from the ashes, when everything seemed doomed. I remember going with the motorcycles through floods in Equator where every millimeter on 2 wheels where a possible death trap, same when crossing a peak in Colombia on a cold rainy night. Somehow, when everything seems last, destiny sends an angel for help on that last desperate breath. I did everything feeling the pain as if all extremities came apart and when moments seem like years, which has the advantage to make you conscious of the reality of time...

Ended up the sixth day with a certain pride and hurt joints, just to give me an extra push for the 7th day in which I got to experience the Pagoda experience, meaning that you can meditate by yourself in a private cell. If felt amazing, especially after something happened involving my previous sworn death buzzing enemies, who became my allies and made me realize how anger and fear worked together, but I'll leave the pleasure to everyone to learn from their own experiences.

Eventually day eight arrived and I found out what real Love could feel like, instead of running around hurting others without end, trying to corrupt what is into something we wish it to be. Again my own experiences and everyone has theirs...

What I clearly remember about day nine and it's important for me because I did have an excess of anger is how to trans-mutate it into laughter. It's my experience again, but it's funny that whenever I consciously catch myself being angry, I start up laughing... It's a cool gift and hope it stays around.

Day 10 ended with the silent barrier and finally got to hear the others voices and test my own vocal chords. Great and relax.

Now it's day 11 and just shaved. It's been a month since I left home(in a couple of hours). I lived 10 years in 31 days, while I used to live 31 days in 10 years back home and it's why the few moments of consciousness that I can remember from back home is wondering how can we just act like machines, waking and doing the same things in order to keep artificial comforts going. Maybe I'm a pessimist, but now I get 2 hours a day of living an eternity in each of them without going anywhere.

I would like to thank all that influenced my path into getting here:
-Patrick Salibi with the amazing course of OsteoYoga in the plateau and his technique is very close to the Vipasana meditation
-Ze'ev Evgeni for his openness and experience with mind, he's a great Hypnotherapist, but so much more
-Eckhart Tolle's book "The power of now" and different videos he's putting up to date
-The Paititi Institute in Peru where I got to see a Shaman and try Ayawaska
-The Vipasana meditation and all those who crossed my path saying great stuff about it(Max, Silli, etc)

If you ever get the chance to try this, it's a simple technique that last 10 days in your life and has the ability to change it. If you don't get any spiritual stuff out of it, you'll at least get a more focused mind, a better flexibility(you can always ask for a chair, it was just my pride that kept me in that position and am grateful for it now), good stories and new friends.
It has nothing to do with religion, sect or anything of the sort. I will most likely never try it again(a class) but thinking of meditating one hour a day for as long as I can.
The last argument that you might have, it works on donations, REALLY, so if you don't enjoy it, don't pay, you get sheltered and nourished for free for 10 days.

Peace and Love and Equanimity

Day at the mall

Last day before meditation in a room that I'll have to leave at 5AM, because I came in at that time and it's a 24hours policy. Will finish my night on their sofas. My allergy towards India was reawaken since the crazy train night and coming to yet another disgusting big city of India. Trying really hard to find love for this country, but the only good thing it does is to challenge my comfort zone with it's numerous beggars, in-existing waiting lines, dirt, spitting, messy crowds, incoherent traffic, etc. I can just see/smell/hear/touch/taste death and pain everywhere, but when I surrender for a short time from the grip of fear, I can feel the the kindness in people's eyes and hearts.
India is like a big family where most members have money issues, low scholarity and poor hygiene. I look back to the values and regular reactions back in Canada and I find that the system in place there eradicated(and still is) the very hard reality of lower classes. But India is so big and so open-hearted that it accepted everybody in the past, just to build the corrupt result like an overfilled "pinata" ready to blow. India definitely has the most available handwork and they're ready to do anything for a "backseesh" or an opportunity for a better life.
I spent New Year in my room alone watching the end of Terminator 1 and devouring the pages of Shantaram, smoking like a chimney. This is mostly because I felt tired and my self-esteem a little hurt after being hustled by a beggar and lost 300 ruppies. In the end, it was all meant to be and I understand it fully, but it was a pretty sad New Year. Today I had the opportunity to go out with a very cool India girl that also writes. It was great because we spent most of the time together in a shopping mall that looks like a much smaller(not saying to brag, just as comparison) version of "Carrefour de Laval" and much more crowded. The top of the day was eating at a cool restaurant for less than 15$ for both, trying at least 10 different types of food. It was a great booster for my mood after the last 2 days, especially with not smoking which unleashes the salvage inner wolf.
My regular dirty room is filled with mosquitoes and I decided to take some of my anger on them, leaving about 50 soulless fly bodies in my room. I mean, they look for it, they know it's the risk they take to taste my blood and they willingly took it. The funny part is that I sleep with a mosquito net, so except from 2-3 bites, they will die of hunger or by my fist. This made me realize that, same as the mosquitoes, all these people accept their lack of possibilities and are ready to die of hunger. Who am I to impose my ways, it's pure freedom after all, isn't it?
And this is what my inner wolf feels like, I think to myself re-reading the last paragraphs, feels good to release the anger created by the comfort zone blowing into pieces. Will sleep like a baby and will have 10 days to reflect to deeper subjects.

Namaste for putting the stones in front of my shoes and open a path...

P.S. Added pictures yesterday since my sim-card finally was understood by a computer:
http://picasaweb.google.com/braikoff/20111221_20111227_Palolem
http://picasaweb.google.com/braikoff/20111227_20111230_Humpi
http://picasaweb.google.com/braikoff/20111231_201201xx_Chennai