I can still remember quite clearly the night I found out about Princess Diana’s death. I had just gotten home from work and I turned on the TV to hear the story. It was strange but I remember truly being stunned. I heard the headline, but I didn’t believe my own ears. I had to change channels and listen to the story once more before the reality settled in.
Further, I remember being quite saddened by this news. I sat down on my couch and thought, “How could this have happened to a princess?” It’s not difficult to understand why so many conspiracy stories arose about it being an assassination. People simply didn’t want to believe that something so tragic could occur in the life of royalty. Royals are so often put on pedestals where we consider them to be untouchable. After a while, I began to question the emotions I was feeling. While I had often seen Princess Diana’s photo on newsstands, I had never met her personally. I didn’t know her, but yet I was deeply moved by the news of her death.
Fast forward to present day, and the news of Michael Jackson’s death is echoing around the world in much the same way. Personally I received news of his death via text message, just minutes before the story broke online. I was quite skeptical of this report because years before I had learned of Whitney Houston death when in truth she had simply been hospitalized, and was very much still alive. Deep down, I hoped this was a similar report. An erroneous one, but alas it would later be confirmed as truth.
Today, while driving into the city, several radio stations were playing Michael Jackson songs in tribute. As I listened to “Smooth Criminal,” the depth of his talent struck me. Again, I found I was saddened even though it was the death of someone I had never met. It scares us to think that the people we hold as untouchable can die. And for them to die young is even scarier. Certainly, just like Princess Diana, Michael Jackson was seen as untouchable by the rest of the world. It didn’t matter how many lawsuits or bankruptcy stories circulated, M.J. would always be able to ride in limos and jet set about the world as all of the untouchables do. Even though we don’t have royalty in this country, the Kennedy family and the Jacksons are probably the closest thing to it. For decades, Michael wore the crown of the King of Pop!
As I mourn for Michael, I consider my own mortality, which has already been brought into question by a serious diagnosis. Probably, our biggest fear in this life is of death. The idea that there is nothing left outside of what we have on this planet is hard swallow. When you consider this fear, it is a strange one to have. It is a simple law of nature that has existed from the dawn of time. The law of impermanence. Everything that has a beginning has an end. Nothing that exists in a physical state can remain. Constantly, there is life, death and renewal. So, why do we fear what we know? Only because the truth of what happens after has become hidden from us. It is the fear of the unknown or perhaps the fear of the forgotten. In some strange way, the passing of those we love is a gift to remind us to explore what we have not learned or that which we have forgotten.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
CALM, COOL AND A COLLECTIVE
In 2008, for a period of roughly four months, I became obsessed with aliens. Yes, I was constantly questioning the existence of life on other planets. I even did hours of research, trying to reconcile the questions I had. In my mind, it only made sense that there was life elsewhere. Especially when you think of infinity. If space is infinite, how can there not be life somewhere out there? For me, the probability of life existing only on Earth was and remains a statistical impossibility. Certainly, we are not alone.
Through the course of my research, I learned quite a bit about “The Grays.” These are the stereotypical aliens that we read about with large heads, bulbous eyes and thin bodies. When people recount abduction stories, their memories are usually of the Grays. According to some conspiracists, President Eisenhower even signed a treaty with them [The Graeda Treaty] allowing them to abduct whomever they chose as long as they provided a list of potential abductees to the U.S. Government.
To read about the Graeda Treaty, see:
http://www.abidemiracles.com/56789.htm
“Experts” on the Grays also claim they are a collective. Because they are telepathic, they do not communicate with language per se. Each Gray is able to plug into the thoughts of any other, which hopefully eliminates the confusion that language can sometimes create. The concept behind the collective is that it operates very much like a beehive. Everyone in the collective is tasked with duties that benefit the collective.
In fact, because the Grays are telepathic, all of their thoughts are plugged into one collective mind, outside of which no Gray can operate. For some reason, I found this concept fascinating. Why do you ask? Because I began to believe that we, as humans, are also meant to function as a collective, but for egocentric reasons, we have created barriers to this reality.
Years ago, I read of similar ideas in a book called, “The Mutant Message Down Under.” Although I had a few problems with this book, I truly adored the underlying message within. The book is fictionalized, which suggest that liberties were taken with elements of a true story. It speaks of Australian Aborigines and how although we see them as primitive, they are quite advanced. In this book, they are depicted as also being able to communicate with telepathy. And not only do they live collectively with one another, they are also plugged into Mother Nature, treating her as a fully functioning member of the tribe. This was an extraordinary idea to me. Supposedly, when they come across possible food sources, they ask the universe if it’s okay before eating it, so as not to disturb the delicate balance that nature searches for.
In this story, the idea was put forward that we are all telepathic, but in modern society we shut ourselves down to it. We base our lives in large part on deceit. We don’t want to disclose our salaries, or sometimes where we live. Oftentimes, we don’t want to discuss our true views so we close ourselves off. But when you think about it, we are not completely shut down. How many times have you felt someone was staring at you, or did you realize that someone was upset even though they didn't mention it? These are remnants of our abilities to plug into one another. As we develop these sensitivities, we will then be able to develop true compassion. Without asking, we will know exactly what it is that someone needs and whether or not we are able to provide it. What a concept!
Through the course of my research, I learned quite a bit about “The Grays.” These are the stereotypical aliens that we read about with large heads, bulbous eyes and thin bodies. When people recount abduction stories, their memories are usually of the Grays. According to some conspiracists, President Eisenhower even signed a treaty with them [The Graeda Treaty] allowing them to abduct whomever they chose as long as they provided a list of potential abductees to the U.S. Government.
To read about the Graeda Treaty, see:
http://www.abidemiracles.com/56789.htm
“Experts” on the Grays also claim they are a collective. Because they are telepathic, they do not communicate with language per se. Each Gray is able to plug into the thoughts of any other, which hopefully eliminates the confusion that language can sometimes create. The concept behind the collective is that it operates very much like a beehive. Everyone in the collective is tasked with duties that benefit the collective.
In fact, because the Grays are telepathic, all of their thoughts are plugged into one collective mind, outside of which no Gray can operate. For some reason, I found this concept fascinating. Why do you ask? Because I began to believe that we, as humans, are also meant to function as a collective, but for egocentric reasons, we have created barriers to this reality.
Years ago, I read of similar ideas in a book called, “The Mutant Message Down Under.” Although I had a few problems with this book, I truly adored the underlying message within. The book is fictionalized, which suggest that liberties were taken with elements of a true story. It speaks of Australian Aborigines and how although we see them as primitive, they are quite advanced. In this book, they are depicted as also being able to communicate with telepathy. And not only do they live collectively with one another, they are also plugged into Mother Nature, treating her as a fully functioning member of the tribe. This was an extraordinary idea to me. Supposedly, when they come across possible food sources, they ask the universe if it’s okay before eating it, so as not to disturb the delicate balance that nature searches for.
In this story, the idea was put forward that we are all telepathic, but in modern society we shut ourselves down to it. We base our lives in large part on deceit. We don’t want to disclose our salaries, or sometimes where we live. Oftentimes, we don’t want to discuss our true views so we close ourselves off. But when you think about it, we are not completely shut down. How many times have you felt someone was staring at you, or did you realize that someone was upset even though they didn't mention it? These are remnants of our abilities to plug into one another. As we develop these sensitivities, we will then be able to develop true compassion. Without asking, we will know exactly what it is that someone needs and whether or not we are able to provide it. What a concept!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Mental Blockages
On occasion, there are things we want, but can’t get because the universe denies them to us. Some people call this karma or [bad] luck. However, in most situations, if we are unable to get something we want, it is due to a mental block that we have. Probably there is something we need to change, remove, or add to our lives, but we are not doing so either because we are incapable or unaware. Years ago, one of my best friends from high school graduated from a four-year college. This was a huge accomplishment, especially given that no one in her family had ever gone to college before.
After she received her diploma, her family, who was of very modest means, scraped together the money to purchase her a new car. All of her friends, including me, were thrilled about this. For years, we had played chauffeur to her and her family. Now, not only would she be liberated, but she would also be able to take us places for a change. The condition of her new gift was that she would begin assuming the car payments as soon as she got a job and was on her feet. After roughly nine months of waiting for this to happen, her family (and I) began to realize that she had no intention of finding a job. Eventually, nine months spread to eighteen and before anyone knew it, two years had gone by and she was still unemployed.
Shortly after her family stopped making the car payments, my friend began hiding her car. The repo man was hot on her tail. During those years, I didn’t trouble her about finding a job. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t think it necessary to get one. After a while, I grew accustomed to her availability. If I needed to speak to someone about something, I could call her at home and ninety percent of the time, I would catch her. In the back of my mind, I questioned why her family continued supporting her. She always had enough money to go see a movie or to go have a drink. At first I didn’t know where the money came from, but then I began to realize she would do odd jobs for her family and that gave her the change she needed to do a few social things. Although her family was displeased, they were also enabling.
I think it was after five years that I became truly perplexed. Although this was one of my nearest, and dearest friends, I had no idea why she wasn’t actively seeking employment. When I tried to talk to her about it, she told me, “I just need someone to call me and tell me I got the job.” I knew this wasn’t a realistic expectation, but all I could say was “okay.”
I think it was about seven years after she graduated from college that I made a call to speak to her. She wasn’t at home this day, but her older sister, who I was friendly with, answered the phone. She told me my friend was out and asked how I was doing. After a brief conversation, she asked me why I thought her sister wouldn’t get a job. I explained that I had no idea and never got a clear explanation from her when we talked about it. She said she was only asking because she knew how close we were and she thought maybe I had some insight. Unfortunately, I illuminated nothing on the subject. She then explained that she was sure her sister had some kind of mental block. Neither of us knew what that was, but we agreed that it was the only explanation for a smart and capable girl to have let nearly a decade pass without finding something productive to do.
Fast forwarding to present day, I have a couple of friends who are now in their forties, and neither have ever had romantic relationships. I found this statistic amazing. How is it possible that after four plus decades, there was never any person suitable toward a partnership? I explained to my two friends that subconsciously they didn’t want relationships. It was the only explanation that made sense. It was certainly similar to my childhood friend’s job situation. They were experiencing some kind of a mental block. I knew this to be true because years before I had suffered the same mental block. There was a period of time where I constantly complained that I couldn’t meet a quality person. I blamed the universe for not sending me someone to love. But loving someone is hard work, that back then, quite honestly, I wasn’t prepared to do. I see that now.
For anyone reading this who has a goal or desire they have not achieved, think long and hard about your efforts toward achieving that goal. Is there a blockage preventing you from going to the next step? If we are to actualize ourselves in this world, we must remove these blockages, but the first step is identifying and acknowledging that they are there.
Just for a simple update, my high school friend finally met a man who thankfully understood that she had to be separated from the enablers in her family. About ten years after receiving her college degree, he talked her into moving out of the state she grew up in. As soon as she escaped, she found a job and began working. Thankfully, that first job put her on a career path and many years later she is still working and making a living. I urge everyone to be honest and reflective about the things that are not working in their lives. This honesty is the only way to assess and move forward. When we can look at our strengths and weaknesses, then and only then, can we truly learn. Take it into consideration, for this is a reality I see as clearly as it is.
After she received her diploma, her family, who was of very modest means, scraped together the money to purchase her a new car. All of her friends, including me, were thrilled about this. For years, we had played chauffeur to her and her family. Now, not only would she be liberated, but she would also be able to take us places for a change. The condition of her new gift was that she would begin assuming the car payments as soon as she got a job and was on her feet. After roughly nine months of waiting for this to happen, her family (and I) began to realize that she had no intention of finding a job. Eventually, nine months spread to eighteen and before anyone knew it, two years had gone by and she was still unemployed.
Shortly after her family stopped making the car payments, my friend began hiding her car. The repo man was hot on her tail. During those years, I didn’t trouble her about finding a job. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t think it necessary to get one. After a while, I grew accustomed to her availability. If I needed to speak to someone about something, I could call her at home and ninety percent of the time, I would catch her. In the back of my mind, I questioned why her family continued supporting her. She always had enough money to go see a movie or to go have a drink. At first I didn’t know where the money came from, but then I began to realize she would do odd jobs for her family and that gave her the change she needed to do a few social things. Although her family was displeased, they were also enabling.
I think it was after five years that I became truly perplexed. Although this was one of my nearest, and dearest friends, I had no idea why she wasn’t actively seeking employment. When I tried to talk to her about it, she told me, “I just need someone to call me and tell me I got the job.” I knew this wasn’t a realistic expectation, but all I could say was “okay.”
I think it was about seven years after she graduated from college that I made a call to speak to her. She wasn’t at home this day, but her older sister, who I was friendly with, answered the phone. She told me my friend was out and asked how I was doing. After a brief conversation, she asked me why I thought her sister wouldn’t get a job. I explained that I had no idea and never got a clear explanation from her when we talked about it. She said she was only asking because she knew how close we were and she thought maybe I had some insight. Unfortunately, I illuminated nothing on the subject. She then explained that she was sure her sister had some kind of mental block. Neither of us knew what that was, but we agreed that it was the only explanation for a smart and capable girl to have let nearly a decade pass without finding something productive to do.
Fast forwarding to present day, I have a couple of friends who are now in their forties, and neither have ever had romantic relationships. I found this statistic amazing. How is it possible that after four plus decades, there was never any person suitable toward a partnership? I explained to my two friends that subconsciously they didn’t want relationships. It was the only explanation that made sense. It was certainly similar to my childhood friend’s job situation. They were experiencing some kind of a mental block. I knew this to be true because years before I had suffered the same mental block. There was a period of time where I constantly complained that I couldn’t meet a quality person. I blamed the universe for not sending me someone to love. But loving someone is hard work, that back then, quite honestly, I wasn’t prepared to do. I see that now.
For anyone reading this who has a goal or desire they have not achieved, think long and hard about your efforts toward achieving that goal. Is there a blockage preventing you from going to the next step? If we are to actualize ourselves in this world, we must remove these blockages, but the first step is identifying and acknowledging that they are there.
Just for a simple update, my high school friend finally met a man who thankfully understood that she had to be separated from the enablers in her family. About ten years after receiving her college degree, he talked her into moving out of the state she grew up in. As soon as she escaped, she found a job and began working. Thankfully, that first job put her on a career path and many years later she is still working and making a living. I urge everyone to be honest and reflective about the things that are not working in their lives. This honesty is the only way to assess and move forward. When we can look at our strengths and weaknesses, then and only then, can we truly learn. Take it into consideration, for this is a reality I see as clearly as it is.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A CHOICE EFFORT
Are we good, honorable people? Are we nice? Or are we bad and mean spirited? The answers to these questions are quite simply wrapped up in the choices we make. If we see someone in distress, do we choose to help? Do we selfishly exploit opportunities like when someone gives us too much change? If every choice we make involves us, and how we benefit, then it’s probably safe to say we are egocentric, and probably not the nicest people around. On the other hand, if our choices are compassionate and take others into consideration, then we are likely on the path toward being good and honorable people.
Several years ago, I was given the advice, “work on your powers of discrimination.” Personally, I found this concept fascinating.
TO DISCRIMINATE: The power of making fine distinctions; discriminating judgment: She chose the colors with great discrimination.
The more discriminating we are, the more protected we become against people who would do us wrong. It is those finer distinctions mentioned above that we often overlook. If dishonest people attempt to lie to us and we are discriminating, we will see through to the truth. In fact, the more discriminating we are, the easier we will find it to sort through the riffraff of people who might lie to us anyway.
As we travel through life, we will constantly be bombarded with situations and choices that need to be made. With a strong power of discrimination, we will see more clearly the array of choices that are presented to us. Some choices will be simple like Coke or Pepsi. Others will be more complex like “Do I befriend or do business with this person, who may or may not be dishonest?” Developing the power to make those fine distinctions will always be helpful when the more complex choices arise. The stronger our powers of discrimination, the more able we will be to properly navigate through life’s storms.
When choices become difficult, take time to consider the options. Consider who will benefit from your choice, or will there be people who suffer from your decisions? Whatever you do, choose carefully for those around you will judge your character based solely upon your actions.
Several years ago, I was given the advice, “work on your powers of discrimination.” Personally, I found this concept fascinating.
TO DISCRIMINATE: The power of making fine distinctions; discriminating judgment: She chose the colors with great discrimination.
The more discriminating we are, the more protected we become against people who would do us wrong. It is those finer distinctions mentioned above that we often overlook. If dishonest people attempt to lie to us and we are discriminating, we will see through to the truth. In fact, the more discriminating we are, the easier we will find it to sort through the riffraff of people who might lie to us anyway.
As we travel through life, we will constantly be bombarded with situations and choices that need to be made. With a strong power of discrimination, we will see more clearly the array of choices that are presented to us. Some choices will be simple like Coke or Pepsi. Others will be more complex like “Do I befriend or do business with this person, who may or may not be dishonest?” Developing the power to make those fine distinctions will always be helpful when the more complex choices arise. The stronger our powers of discrimination, the more able we will be to properly navigate through life’s storms.
When choices become difficult, take time to consider the options. Consider who will benefit from your choice, or will there be people who suffer from your decisions? Whatever you do, choose carefully for those around you will judge your character based solely upon your actions.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Work To Live Or Live To Work?
A few days ago, I attended an all day workshop for people conducting job searches. The workshop leader was a very knowledgeable woman who spent more than a decade in corporate human resources. It was actually quite fascinating to hear from the other side how we are perceived when we send out resumes and interview.
Early on, in this mini course, the topic arose how high salaried Baby Boomers have been replaced by “Millennials,” a much younger generation of worker, generally with inferior salaries. But the workshop leader told the Baby Boomers not to worry because the current trend developing is that hiring managers are finding they don’t like the work ethic of Millennials. For this reason, there is a shift back to hiring Boomers as companies find they are able to restaff some of the previously eliminated positions.
I don’t typically follow trends in the workplace, so I found this phenomenon fascinating. Hiring managers, which are most likely Baby Boomers themselves, do not like the work ethic of Millennials. Why I asked myself? And then the answer came to me.
For many years, the world has been shifting in its attitude toward life and work, and more importantly how they interrelate. More and more, people are creating virtual offices, allowing themselves to work at home. Companies are beginning to realize this can be cheaper than having people come to an office. Management is beginning to play a larger role in working green, shortening workweeks to keep people off the roads, if possible. These are just a few examples of how things are shifting. Of course there are people who, accustomed to the old ways, are resistant to these changes.
During my 20 plus years working, I have seen a large array of corporate cultures, but there has always been one part of human behavior that existed everywhere. For lack of a better description, I will call it the “misery loves company” gene. As a writer, I am always observing. It didn’t take me long to discover that no one wants to be seen as the slacker. I have noticed even when a nine to six schedule is being worked, and six o’clock arrives, many people will sit at their desks whether or not they still have work to do. No one wants to be the first one to leave the office. It’s the same behavior that I’m sure highway patrol officers laugh about. Many times I have noticed them driving at fifty or fifty-five in a 65 mph zone, and even though it is perfectly legal to pass, practically no one will. I am more than happy to work long hours when necessary, but if my work is done, I will exit at quitting time just like I pass highway patrol when they are creeping on the interstate.
Years ago, one of my best friends worked for Disney. I remember it was a Friday at five pm and we had arranged to travel to Mammoth, California for a ski weekend. As we were walking through his office preparing to leave, more than a few co-workers looked at their watches as if to say, “I cannot believe you are considering leaving at 5pm on a Friday.” Most of those people would probably have said they were joking had we confronted them about their comments, but as another friend of mine always used to say, “There’s a little truth in every joke.” I found the questions frustrating and I was furthered bothered by the amount of people asking them. Especially because I knew my friend was the ideal corporate employee. I can still recall when he worked for PepsiCo, and he reprimanded me for ordering a Rum and Coke. Because we were out with his co-workers, he informed me that I should be ordering a Pepsi and Rum. And yes, he was serious.
Honestly, I wasn’t surprised about the “Are you leaving so early?” questions at Disney. For years, I had heard nothing but horror stories about their corporate culture. In my temping days, I reluctantly accepted a 6-week assignment in their consumer products division. From what I had heard, they purposefully understaffed and overworked. Although it was just a temporary assignment, I worked 55 hours in my first week. I was also invited to work on my first Sunday of the assignment. It just so happened that the following Monday morning, a fire alarm drill took place. As all of the employees gathered outside of the building, conversations about the weekend popped up. The manager with whom I was working, when asked about his weekend, quickly quipped, “I worked.” It was a strange thing to listen to because I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or complaining.
After hearing him answer to several people about his weekend, I realized he was doing both, complaining that he had no life, but also bragging about what a hard worker he was. This is a strange and twisted psychology of many corporate cultures. People are miserable inside when they work ungodly hours, but they wear this misery as a badge of honor. How could you not feel despair when your entire life becomes about the pursuits of others? I actually found it sad because this manager confided in me that his fiancée broke off their engagement because she didn’t understand about his intense work schedule. Again, I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or complaining, but I’m pretty sure it was both. Needless to say, corporations love workers with this work ethic. Workers who are prepared to let everything in their life fall apart as long as they are rewarded on their jobs.
As I sat in this seminar, wondering why hiring managers didn’t like the work ethic of Millennials, I realized this new generation of workers had shifted their thinking. The mindless devotion to furthering a corporate goal is not in their DNA. Whether this will be good or bad for the new economies emerging remains to be seen, but I am hopeful that a new workplace will emerge where all of us can better integrate our lives between work and play.
Early on, in this mini course, the topic arose how high salaried Baby Boomers have been replaced by “Millennials,” a much younger generation of worker, generally with inferior salaries. But the workshop leader told the Baby Boomers not to worry because the current trend developing is that hiring managers are finding they don’t like the work ethic of Millennials. For this reason, there is a shift back to hiring Boomers as companies find they are able to restaff some of the previously eliminated positions.
I don’t typically follow trends in the workplace, so I found this phenomenon fascinating. Hiring managers, which are most likely Baby Boomers themselves, do not like the work ethic of Millennials. Why I asked myself? And then the answer came to me.
For many years, the world has been shifting in its attitude toward life and work, and more importantly how they interrelate. More and more, people are creating virtual offices, allowing themselves to work at home. Companies are beginning to realize this can be cheaper than having people come to an office. Management is beginning to play a larger role in working green, shortening workweeks to keep people off the roads, if possible. These are just a few examples of how things are shifting. Of course there are people who, accustomed to the old ways, are resistant to these changes.
During my 20 plus years working, I have seen a large array of corporate cultures, but there has always been one part of human behavior that existed everywhere. For lack of a better description, I will call it the “misery loves company” gene. As a writer, I am always observing. It didn’t take me long to discover that no one wants to be seen as the slacker. I have noticed even when a nine to six schedule is being worked, and six o’clock arrives, many people will sit at their desks whether or not they still have work to do. No one wants to be the first one to leave the office. It’s the same behavior that I’m sure highway patrol officers laugh about. Many times I have noticed them driving at fifty or fifty-five in a 65 mph zone, and even though it is perfectly legal to pass, practically no one will. I am more than happy to work long hours when necessary, but if my work is done, I will exit at quitting time just like I pass highway patrol when they are creeping on the interstate.
Years ago, one of my best friends worked for Disney. I remember it was a Friday at five pm and we had arranged to travel to Mammoth, California for a ski weekend. As we were walking through his office preparing to leave, more than a few co-workers looked at their watches as if to say, “I cannot believe you are considering leaving at 5pm on a Friday.” Most of those people would probably have said they were joking had we confronted them about their comments, but as another friend of mine always used to say, “There’s a little truth in every joke.” I found the questions frustrating and I was furthered bothered by the amount of people asking them. Especially because I knew my friend was the ideal corporate employee. I can still recall when he worked for PepsiCo, and he reprimanded me for ordering a Rum and Coke. Because we were out with his co-workers, he informed me that I should be ordering a Pepsi and Rum. And yes, he was serious.
Honestly, I wasn’t surprised about the “Are you leaving so early?” questions at Disney. For years, I had heard nothing but horror stories about their corporate culture. In my temping days, I reluctantly accepted a 6-week assignment in their consumer products division. From what I had heard, they purposefully understaffed and overworked. Although it was just a temporary assignment, I worked 55 hours in my first week. I was also invited to work on my first Sunday of the assignment. It just so happened that the following Monday morning, a fire alarm drill took place. As all of the employees gathered outside of the building, conversations about the weekend popped up. The manager with whom I was working, when asked about his weekend, quickly quipped, “I worked.” It was a strange thing to listen to because I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or complaining.
After hearing him answer to several people about his weekend, I realized he was doing both, complaining that he had no life, but also bragging about what a hard worker he was. This is a strange and twisted psychology of many corporate cultures. People are miserable inside when they work ungodly hours, but they wear this misery as a badge of honor. How could you not feel despair when your entire life becomes about the pursuits of others? I actually found it sad because this manager confided in me that his fiancée broke off their engagement because she didn’t understand about his intense work schedule. Again, I couldn’t tell if he was bragging or complaining, but I’m pretty sure it was both. Needless to say, corporations love workers with this work ethic. Workers who are prepared to let everything in their life fall apart as long as they are rewarded on their jobs.
As I sat in this seminar, wondering why hiring managers didn’t like the work ethic of Millennials, I realized this new generation of workers had shifted their thinking. The mindless devotion to furthering a corporate goal is not in their DNA. Whether this will be good or bad for the new economies emerging remains to be seen, but I am hopeful that a new workplace will emerge where all of us can better integrate our lives between work and play.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Happy, Go Lucky Paris!
For over two decades, I have frequently traveled to Paris, France. And for the most part, the city has lived up to its “full of attitude and flair” reputation. I still remember the first time I visited. I was still a minor and was traveling with my family. We had all studied French for several months before arriving, but our skills were still quite limited. French people are very particular about their language, and actually have great disdain for anyone who doesn’t speak it perfectly. I distinctly remember exiting the plane in Charles De Gaulle airport and asking for instructions on how to maneuver through the customs process. The gentleman who we spoke with practically waved us off before we could get a full sentence off. Before we knew it, he was walking away. I can still remember my mother laughing about it. Truthfully, all you could do was laugh. I suppose in the man’s defense, he was probably asked the same questions hundreds of times and certainly, he was just over it. Needless to say, I rarely had a good experience in France before I learned to speak their language fluently.
Many years, and many trips later, I had formed a close friendship with a French guy I met in San Diego. He was originally from Marseille, but had finished his university studies in Paris, and was still living there. He often visited me in the United States, and every time I visited Paris, I would stop off to see him.
One year, I visited while he was working on an application for a master’s program at Carnegie Mellon. One of the requirements was for him to get all of his French university records translated into English. He knew of an office where this service was performed. I went there with him and witnessed something incredible. An older woman was behind the counter this day. She seemed like a sweet enough lady until my friend asked her a question. She demanded thirty-five francs, which was the going price for transcript translations back then. My friend continued to try to ask his question, “But I just wanted to know—“ “Thirty-five francs!” the woman demanded. My friend said okay and, while removing his wallet, attempted to ask the question again. The woman stopped him again. “Give me the thirty-five francs first,” she continued. She proceeded to explain that people get her caught up in asking questions, and then she would forget to collect the fees. She wanted the money before any questions were asked. Just like my mother had done many years before, my friend laughed. He paid the money and then had all of his questions answered.
If I had been there alone, and the woman had spoken to me in that manner, I would have found her incredibly rude. I would have also taken it very personally, thinking that she was treating me that way because I was a foreigner, or maybe specifically because I was an American. But witnessing her treating another Frenchman that way opened my eyes. I finally realized that the perceived rudeness that we often prescribe to Parisians is a cultural way of being. It actually isn’t that they have disdain for foreigners who don’t speak their language. It is simply a way that they behave that completely throws off anyone visiting. But another French person, like my friend, remained completely unfazed. After she received the thirty-five francs, the woman was just as pleasant and helpful as I imagined she’d be when we first entered the office.
Just a couple of months ago, I was in Paris and I noticed a change from my last trip, which was still during the Bush Administration. During the Bush years, when I traveled to Europe, I kept to myself and slipped in and out of places I wanted to visit as unnoticed as I possibly could. The reason being, whenever I chatted with someone, and they found out I was American, it would become a huge debate about the war, and U.S. policies. I would be grilled about whether or not I was a Bush supporter, which I wasn’t. I always felt on the defensive, but I didn’t have a good defense. There were no weapons of mass destruction. On one of my excursions, just after the war had begun, I remember lying on the beach in the French Riviera. All around me were conversations about the war and Bush policies. I quickly realized that Bush bashing was one of France’s favorite pastimes.
On this last trip, a couple of months ago, I found Parisians to be super pleasant. The waiters were not only patient, and helpful, they were full of jokes. After a few days of being in Paris, I realized there was a phenomenon going on. Obama’s election hadn’t only affected those of us here, in the homeland. The entire world, and certainly those in Paris, were breathing a sigh of relief. There was a sense of peace and calm that came along with the success of Obama’s “Hope” campaign. This is how I see it, clearly as it is.
Many years, and many trips later, I had formed a close friendship with a French guy I met in San Diego. He was originally from Marseille, but had finished his university studies in Paris, and was still living there. He often visited me in the United States, and every time I visited Paris, I would stop off to see him.
One year, I visited while he was working on an application for a master’s program at Carnegie Mellon. One of the requirements was for him to get all of his French university records translated into English. He knew of an office where this service was performed. I went there with him and witnessed something incredible. An older woman was behind the counter this day. She seemed like a sweet enough lady until my friend asked her a question. She demanded thirty-five francs, which was the going price for transcript translations back then. My friend continued to try to ask his question, “But I just wanted to know—“ “Thirty-five francs!” the woman demanded. My friend said okay and, while removing his wallet, attempted to ask the question again. The woman stopped him again. “Give me the thirty-five francs first,” she continued. She proceeded to explain that people get her caught up in asking questions, and then she would forget to collect the fees. She wanted the money before any questions were asked. Just like my mother had done many years before, my friend laughed. He paid the money and then had all of his questions answered.
If I had been there alone, and the woman had spoken to me in that manner, I would have found her incredibly rude. I would have also taken it very personally, thinking that she was treating me that way because I was a foreigner, or maybe specifically because I was an American. But witnessing her treating another Frenchman that way opened my eyes. I finally realized that the perceived rudeness that we often prescribe to Parisians is a cultural way of being. It actually isn’t that they have disdain for foreigners who don’t speak their language. It is simply a way that they behave that completely throws off anyone visiting. But another French person, like my friend, remained completely unfazed. After she received the thirty-five francs, the woman was just as pleasant and helpful as I imagined she’d be when we first entered the office.
Just a couple of months ago, I was in Paris and I noticed a change from my last trip, which was still during the Bush Administration. During the Bush years, when I traveled to Europe, I kept to myself and slipped in and out of places I wanted to visit as unnoticed as I possibly could. The reason being, whenever I chatted with someone, and they found out I was American, it would become a huge debate about the war, and U.S. policies. I would be grilled about whether or not I was a Bush supporter, which I wasn’t. I always felt on the defensive, but I didn’t have a good defense. There were no weapons of mass destruction. On one of my excursions, just after the war had begun, I remember lying on the beach in the French Riviera. All around me were conversations about the war and Bush policies. I quickly realized that Bush bashing was one of France’s favorite pastimes.
On this last trip, a couple of months ago, I found Parisians to be super pleasant. The waiters were not only patient, and helpful, they were full of jokes. After a few days of being in Paris, I realized there was a phenomenon going on. Obama’s election hadn’t only affected those of us here, in the homeland. The entire world, and certainly those in Paris, were breathing a sigh of relief. There was a sense of peace and calm that came along with the success of Obama’s “Hope” campaign. This is how I see it, clearly as it is.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Gravy and Salad Dressing
Thank God I have been fortunate enough to have been able to travel from an early age. When I was twelve (oh how long ago that was), my father joined the foreign service, working as an engineer in the Agency for International Development. Within months, we were living in Niger, West Africa. I wasn't so happy about this back then, but today I am grateful. I quickly learned that there are very different ways to live, and I also picked up French while I was at it.
Previously, I have mentioned seeing reality as it is and not as we'd like it to be. While I love the United States, where I was gratefully born and raised, I must admit we are the kings of marketing and spin doctoring. We can take the truth and twist it so far around that nobody knows whether they're coming or going anymore. The Bush administration is a perfect example of this as is the "crisis." The financial meltdown is something that was occurring for years before anybody knew about it. Why? Because the unfortunate truth was covered up with gravy and salad dressing to make it taste good. Don't get me wrong, I love a little dressing or sauce just like the next person. But these should be used to flavor, not to cover up. When you can no longer taste what is beneath the gravy, there is a problem.
Marketing is a great tool, but only when truths are being marketed. When marketing is misused simply to generate cash, it often leads to improper and corrupt behavior. A good example of this is demonstrated over and over in the documentary, "The Corporation," which I was unable to finish watching because I feared I would never drink milk again if I did. The truth about milk (if we choose to really think about it) is that nowhere in nature do adult animals consume it. But a thick heaping of gravy was poured over this reality to convince us that "it does a body good." We need milk for strong teeth and bones, right?
Slowly, a movement has been arising where spin doctoring is being demystified. People are beginning to see through the gravy to the truths of the world. As this occurs, there is a resurgence of the old ways, such as organic foods, glass instead of plastics and other "green" behavior. I urge everyone to join this movement, and use their powers of discrimination to see through the veils of gravy and dressing. Only then will we see the end of nonsense marketing, and throw away products that don't add value. This is a truth I see, clearly as it is.
Previously, I have mentioned seeing reality as it is and not as we'd like it to be. While I love the United States, where I was gratefully born and raised, I must admit we are the kings of marketing and spin doctoring. We can take the truth and twist it so far around that nobody knows whether they're coming or going anymore. The Bush administration is a perfect example of this as is the "crisis." The financial meltdown is something that was occurring for years before anybody knew about it. Why? Because the unfortunate truth was covered up with gravy and salad dressing to make it taste good. Don't get me wrong, I love a little dressing or sauce just like the next person. But these should be used to flavor, not to cover up. When you can no longer taste what is beneath the gravy, there is a problem.
Marketing is a great tool, but only when truths are being marketed. When marketing is misused simply to generate cash, it often leads to improper and corrupt behavior. A good example of this is demonstrated over and over in the documentary, "The Corporation," which I was unable to finish watching because I feared I would never drink milk again if I did. The truth about milk (if we choose to really think about it) is that nowhere in nature do adult animals consume it. But a thick heaping of gravy was poured over this reality to convince us that "it does a body good." We need milk for strong teeth and bones, right?
Slowly, a movement has been arising where spin doctoring is being demystified. People are beginning to see through the gravy to the truths of the world. As this occurs, there is a resurgence of the old ways, such as organic foods, glass instead of plastics and other "green" behavior. I urge everyone to join this movement, and use their powers of discrimination to see through the veils of gravy and dressing. Only then will we see the end of nonsense marketing, and throw away products that don't add value. This is a truth I see, clearly as it is.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Ten Days Of Silence
Given that a large part of my inspiration to create this blog has come from my experience studying Vipassana meditation, I thought I would include a message that I sent to my peers about my experience studying the technique. For me, Vipassana was like doing 3 years of therapy in 10 short days. Anyway, here is the message:
First, I’d like to thank all of you for the compliments on my updates. I must admit I am flattered and even a little startled by the enthusiasm of your responses. Secretly, I am thrilled that you have asked for more details on the retreat. I wanted to write about it in the last email, but it seemed so incredibly long… as is this one…
Anyway, when I last left off, there were about 40 of us waiting on the curb in front of Hotel Terminus in Laroches-Migennnes. After about 2 hours, the shuttle arrived to take us to the center. I guess there were only 34 seats in the shuttle so 6 people were left standing outside on the curb. Apparently, they hadn’t read the email instructions in their entirety so they had not RSVP’d for the shuttle. They ended up sharing a taxi shortly after we left.
It was a very beautiful ride into the countryside, but it was riddled with anxiety for me. I still had no idea what I had really signed up for. After about 20 minutes, I finally realized we were being taken away from society. I am sure quite a few car commercials have been filmed in these areas. No homes or structures were in sight. Just perfectly paved roads, somewhat narrow, stretching into the countryside. Where we were going, there would be no computers, no radios, no televisions, no newspapers, no cell phones, no ipods, and no talking. We were being stripped of all the things that we take for granted.
After about 45 minutes, I began so see a farm here, a house there. Deep off in the distance, I saw some large structures, and I knew that must be the Vipassana Center. Finally the shuttle turned down a long road that had these large, beautiful trees on each side, planted in formation. They almost appeared as columns along the road. Once the shuttle parked, we unloaded our things and were herded into the building to check in.
They had all of us fill out a questionnaire, which was identical to the one we had already filled out online. The final question on it was, “What is your current state of mind?” As fantastic as the retreat was, this was a very appropriate question. Vipassana stirs up a lot of demons. If your state of mind isn’t in the proper place, one could easily crack.
During check in, I surrendered my cell phone, ipod and my journal. I was given my room assignment, so I rushed into the next building to see what the accommodations were like. The dorm was essentially a huge room divided off into sections. In each section there were 6 beds. 5 people were assigned to my section, so we had one empty bed. At this point, I prayed that there were no snorers in my group (and luckily there weren’t).
At the end of the main hall, there was a huge bathroom with 8 to 10 sinks, about just as many shower stalls and 3 toilets, one of which was a Turkish toilet (pretty much a porcelain hole in the ground that you squat over… ugh!). Thankfully, the regular toilets were almost always available, so I was able to avoid the Turkish one.
Shortly after I set up my bed, I returned to the main hall where they fed us. It was about 5pm by then. After our meal, we were given the code of conduct, and then the silence began. Several people had begun chatting on the shuttle, but I chose to remain silent pretty much from the time I deboarded the train. To my dismay, when I returned to the bathroom just before lights out, I discovered a sign that said, “Hot water to return tomorrow.” There was no way I was going to take a cold shower on that first night. It had gotten a little chilly after sundown, so I washed up in the sink, and went to bed.
Day one started with a gong going off at 4am. About a month before, I had done another retreat in Barcelona. There, we reported to the Dharma room at 6am. There is a huge difference between 4am and 6am. 6am is early, but I at least felt like I was present in the room at that time. At 4am, I was in some kind of a daze. Luckily, I had readied my things the night before, because we dressed in the dark.
At 4:30 we reported to the Dhamma Hall. The first technique that we were given was to close our eyes and concentrate on our breathing. We were asked to be aware of the breath coming in and out of our nostrils. This exercise is so much harder than it sounds. I would concentrate on my breath and then I would think, “I wonder if that hot water’s gonna be back on by the end of today.” Every couple of breaths, I would find myself thinking about this thought, or that thought. I thought about what a nice time I had in Austria and in Paris. During the instruction, we were told, “Your mind will wander, and as soon as you become aware that it has wandered, bring your attention back to your breath.” After a few hours of this, I began to get really frustrated. Luckily, the instruction said, “Don’t get frustrated.” That helped me to relax.
For several hours this went on. My attention wandered literally about every 3 seconds. Toward the end of each day, we were shown a video discourse featuring the man who created the course, S.N. Goenka. During his first speech, he said, “Probably a lot of you couldn’t hold your attention for more than a couple of breaths. You are probably wondering what kind of mind do you have. Why can’t you pay attention?” I was so happy when I heard this because that is exactly what I was thinking. As the discourse continued, I realized the technique had helped me see just how stormy my mind can be. I had spent about 8 hours listening to the chatter in my head. It was like someone was tuning a radio, but they never stopped on one channel. Therefore there were pieces of this memory and that thought, but no focus. No clarity. Believe it or not, this went on for two more days. Each day was a little better. The wanderings of my mind became less frequent, changing from every 3 seconds to every 10 seconds. There was improvement, but still not what I thought I would be capable of.
I have never been to psychotherapy, but I figured that it must feel something like this. Sitting in a room, sifting through all of the thoughts in your head, and trying to figure out which ones are holding you back from succeeding at whatever. It was such a great feeling to begin having some sense of clarity about what goes on in my own head.
To my surprise, at the end of day 3, Goenka said in the video discourse, “Tomorrow is a big day because you begin Vipassana.” I was caught off guard because I thought we had been doing Vipassana all along. As it turned out, the first method is called Hanapana Meditation. I guess I wasn’t paying attention with my wandering mind.
On the 4th night, after we had completed our first Vipassana lesson, the dorms were strange to say the least. On all of the previous nights, all of the meditators pretty much retired at 9:30pm, but on this night, people were still wandering around, talking, banging about in the bathroom. After I finally fell asleep, I was awakened by one of my roommates around 1am. He was arguing with someone in a dream, and talking out loud in his sleep. He was so loud that people in other sections of the dorm were commenting on what he was saying. It was kind of funny, but a little annoying. The 6.5 hours sleep that our timetable allowed turned out to be about 5.5 hours that night.
So, what is Vipassana? Goenka described it as a complex surgery to remove impurities from the mind. Once you begin to see what’s going on in your mind, you have to begin cleaning house and remove the thoughts, ideas, concepts, experiences that are bringing negativity into your life. It’s too complex for me to explain how it works in an email, but suffice it to say that it works. Once you start Vipassana, you will notice subtle to severe changes in your breathing, and heart rate. There were quite a few people hyperventilating in the Dhamma Hall. And you knew they were getting aggravated because of their issues and traumas rising to the surface.
Immediately after starting Vipassana, I found myself getting very agitated. On day 6, I was in the Dhamma Hall sobbing uncontrollably. I thought of what I had heard from people who have done therapy. Pretty much all of them have said you don’t really experience a breakthrough until you cry in a session. Well, I knew I had just had a big breakthrough… quite a catharsis I had that day.
In one of his discourses, Goenka explained that in India they categorize 3 different kinds of wisdom. There is secondhand wisdom that you hear or read about. There is wisdom that you intellectualize, and then finally there is experiential wisdom. In their esteem the best wisdom to have is experiential. I can tell you about this method, but the best way to understand it is to do it for yourselves.
One of my roommates quit on day 3, and a second one dropped out on day 8. I say this to underline how challenging the program is. Because we weren’t able to speak at that point, I have no idea why they left, but this retreat really does require a strong state of mind and determination.
I certainly recommend it, and I am eternally grateful that my friend, Dave, steered me in the direction, pushing me year after year to do the retreat. Honestly, it has been 5 or 6 years since he first mentioned it to me. I am glad however that I waited until now to do it.
If any of you are interested, here is the website. You will see links to the different locations on the left.
http://www.dhamma.org
First, I’d like to thank all of you for the compliments on my updates. I must admit I am flattered and even a little startled by the enthusiasm of your responses. Secretly, I am thrilled that you have asked for more details on the retreat. I wanted to write about it in the last email, but it seemed so incredibly long… as is this one…
Anyway, when I last left off, there were about 40 of us waiting on the curb in front of Hotel Terminus in Laroches-Migennnes. After about 2 hours, the shuttle arrived to take us to the center. I guess there were only 34 seats in the shuttle so 6 people were left standing outside on the curb. Apparently, they hadn’t read the email instructions in their entirety so they had not RSVP’d for the shuttle. They ended up sharing a taxi shortly after we left.
It was a very beautiful ride into the countryside, but it was riddled with anxiety for me. I still had no idea what I had really signed up for. After about 20 minutes, I finally realized we were being taken away from society. I am sure quite a few car commercials have been filmed in these areas. No homes or structures were in sight. Just perfectly paved roads, somewhat narrow, stretching into the countryside. Where we were going, there would be no computers, no radios, no televisions, no newspapers, no cell phones, no ipods, and no talking. We were being stripped of all the things that we take for granted.
After about 45 minutes, I began so see a farm here, a house there. Deep off in the distance, I saw some large structures, and I knew that must be the Vipassana Center. Finally the shuttle turned down a long road that had these large, beautiful trees on each side, planted in formation. They almost appeared as columns along the road. Once the shuttle parked, we unloaded our things and were herded into the building to check in.
They had all of us fill out a questionnaire, which was identical to the one we had already filled out online. The final question on it was, “What is your current state of mind?” As fantastic as the retreat was, this was a very appropriate question. Vipassana stirs up a lot of demons. If your state of mind isn’t in the proper place, one could easily crack.
During check in, I surrendered my cell phone, ipod and my journal. I was given my room assignment, so I rushed into the next building to see what the accommodations were like. The dorm was essentially a huge room divided off into sections. In each section there were 6 beds. 5 people were assigned to my section, so we had one empty bed. At this point, I prayed that there were no snorers in my group (and luckily there weren’t).
At the end of the main hall, there was a huge bathroom with 8 to 10 sinks, about just as many shower stalls and 3 toilets, one of which was a Turkish toilet (pretty much a porcelain hole in the ground that you squat over… ugh!). Thankfully, the regular toilets were almost always available, so I was able to avoid the Turkish one.
Shortly after I set up my bed, I returned to the main hall where they fed us. It was about 5pm by then. After our meal, we were given the code of conduct, and then the silence began. Several people had begun chatting on the shuttle, but I chose to remain silent pretty much from the time I deboarded the train. To my dismay, when I returned to the bathroom just before lights out, I discovered a sign that said, “Hot water to return tomorrow.” There was no way I was going to take a cold shower on that first night. It had gotten a little chilly after sundown, so I washed up in the sink, and went to bed.
Day one started with a gong going off at 4am. About a month before, I had done another retreat in Barcelona. There, we reported to the Dharma room at 6am. There is a huge difference between 4am and 6am. 6am is early, but I at least felt like I was present in the room at that time. At 4am, I was in some kind of a daze. Luckily, I had readied my things the night before, because we dressed in the dark.
At 4:30 we reported to the Dhamma Hall. The first technique that we were given was to close our eyes and concentrate on our breathing. We were asked to be aware of the breath coming in and out of our nostrils. This exercise is so much harder than it sounds. I would concentrate on my breath and then I would think, “I wonder if that hot water’s gonna be back on by the end of today.” Every couple of breaths, I would find myself thinking about this thought, or that thought. I thought about what a nice time I had in Austria and in Paris. During the instruction, we were told, “Your mind will wander, and as soon as you become aware that it has wandered, bring your attention back to your breath.” After a few hours of this, I began to get really frustrated. Luckily, the instruction said, “Don’t get frustrated.” That helped me to relax.
For several hours this went on. My attention wandered literally about every 3 seconds. Toward the end of each day, we were shown a video discourse featuring the man who created the course, S.N. Goenka. During his first speech, he said, “Probably a lot of you couldn’t hold your attention for more than a couple of breaths. You are probably wondering what kind of mind do you have. Why can’t you pay attention?” I was so happy when I heard this because that is exactly what I was thinking. As the discourse continued, I realized the technique had helped me see just how stormy my mind can be. I had spent about 8 hours listening to the chatter in my head. It was like someone was tuning a radio, but they never stopped on one channel. Therefore there were pieces of this memory and that thought, but no focus. No clarity. Believe it or not, this went on for two more days. Each day was a little better. The wanderings of my mind became less frequent, changing from every 3 seconds to every 10 seconds. There was improvement, but still not what I thought I would be capable of.
I have never been to psychotherapy, but I figured that it must feel something like this. Sitting in a room, sifting through all of the thoughts in your head, and trying to figure out which ones are holding you back from succeeding at whatever. It was such a great feeling to begin having some sense of clarity about what goes on in my own head.
To my surprise, at the end of day 3, Goenka said in the video discourse, “Tomorrow is a big day because you begin Vipassana.” I was caught off guard because I thought we had been doing Vipassana all along. As it turned out, the first method is called Hanapana Meditation. I guess I wasn’t paying attention with my wandering mind.
On the 4th night, after we had completed our first Vipassana lesson, the dorms were strange to say the least. On all of the previous nights, all of the meditators pretty much retired at 9:30pm, but on this night, people were still wandering around, talking, banging about in the bathroom. After I finally fell asleep, I was awakened by one of my roommates around 1am. He was arguing with someone in a dream, and talking out loud in his sleep. He was so loud that people in other sections of the dorm were commenting on what he was saying. It was kind of funny, but a little annoying. The 6.5 hours sleep that our timetable allowed turned out to be about 5.5 hours that night.
So, what is Vipassana? Goenka described it as a complex surgery to remove impurities from the mind. Once you begin to see what’s going on in your mind, you have to begin cleaning house and remove the thoughts, ideas, concepts, experiences that are bringing negativity into your life. It’s too complex for me to explain how it works in an email, but suffice it to say that it works. Once you start Vipassana, you will notice subtle to severe changes in your breathing, and heart rate. There were quite a few people hyperventilating in the Dhamma Hall. And you knew they were getting aggravated because of their issues and traumas rising to the surface.
Immediately after starting Vipassana, I found myself getting very agitated. On day 6, I was in the Dhamma Hall sobbing uncontrollably. I thought of what I had heard from people who have done therapy. Pretty much all of them have said you don’t really experience a breakthrough until you cry in a session. Well, I knew I had just had a big breakthrough… quite a catharsis I had that day.
In one of his discourses, Goenka explained that in India they categorize 3 different kinds of wisdom. There is secondhand wisdom that you hear or read about. There is wisdom that you intellectualize, and then finally there is experiential wisdom. In their esteem the best wisdom to have is experiential. I can tell you about this method, but the best way to understand it is to do it for yourselves.
One of my roommates quit on day 3, and a second one dropped out on day 8. I say this to underline how challenging the program is. Because we weren’t able to speak at that point, I have no idea why they left, but this retreat really does require a strong state of mind and determination.
I certainly recommend it, and I am eternally grateful that my friend, Dave, steered me in the direction, pushing me year after year to do the retreat. Honestly, it has been 5 or 6 years since he first mentioned it to me. I am glad however that I waited until now to do it.
If any of you are interested, here is the website. You will see links to the different locations on the left.
http://www.dhamma.org
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