5th + 6th week Colville

The Buddhist center is an absolute dream in terms of its location. Nestled between rolling hills, lush meadows, babbling brooks, not far from the sea, next to grazing cows and grazing sheep, cheerful chirping birds, colorful blooming flowers, and finally roaring chainsaws, the property of the Buddhist community extends. I live here with the monk Tony, manager Susi, gardener Kara, volunteer Sanne, cat Bohdi, and a retired nun whose name I can't remember. In addition, other employees and volunteers occasionally come by to help out and work.

Tony is a native Australian, a trained psychiatric nurse who was struggling with alcohol and drug problems in his youth, had problems in relationships and was consumed by doubts. Then he took a trip to Nepal and India, where he lived in Buddhist monasteries and found a better balance with himself and decided to become a monk. Susi, like her predecessor Helen, who said goodbye to the center after more than 5 years four days ago, is a trained teacher and was dissatisfied with the system and the pressure in school and then sought a new challenge here. Kara is a tattoo artist and also comes from Australia, Bohdi is a 22-year-old cat who still seems very vital, and Sanne is a young Dutch woman who doesn't know what to do after her psychology studies, my daily colleague, who is a wonderful teacher with her perfect American English and her friendly nature and an incredible chatterbox who talks my ears slightly bloody if she's not talking to me or Bohdi, she also talks to herself.

I usually get up here in the morning with the first light of day, make a cozy breakfast, read a bit, and participate in the guided meditation in the Gompa, the meditation and worship room, at 8:30 a.m. Around 9 a.m., work begins, we all have lunch together at 12:30 p.m., and we finish around 2:30 p.m. Depending on the weather, I explore the area a bit or devote myself to the books in the library, where I have been captivated by the children's books with Buddhist fairy tales and stories =). In the evening, there is something to eat before I close my eyes with the last rays of sunshine around 9 p.m.

Otherwise, the center is a kind of hostel for tourists and a venue for retreats, which take place every 2-3 weeks and attract people from all over New Zealand. So I had the privilege of experiencing a retreat after 3 days, which was about "loving kindness". It lasted for three days and had 13 participants who were accommodated in different huts and apartments on the property. My task was to help with meals and occasionally take care of order and cleanliness. And the cool thing was that there was so little to do that I could participate in almost all events. So there was a lot of meditation, sitting and walking, and the participants were supposed to try to be silent or, as Ronnek succinctly puts it, "just shut up for once". The meditations were about opening the heart, allowing emotions, and cultivating compassion and kindness towards oneself, family, friends, other people, and even less well-disposed people. She also did Qi-Gong exercises. Until now, that was a black box for me, but I was pleasantly surprised by the exercises. You try to open your heart by tapping in the chest area and thus get the energy flowing more. Then you make vigorous and slightly rhythmic movements with your upper body, catching the energy from the surroundings with your hands and bringing it to the heart. Initially a bit strange and bizarre, but once you can get into it, somehow fascinating. Probably a practice that unleashes its effect through the power of thought. She told stories of people who, in the hospital, when they were bedridden and medically cured, performed the exercise imaginatively and were able to heal as a result. In the end, the silence was broken again and volunteers were allowed to speak about their experiences. The most touching were the words of an older lady. She burst into tears at the first words and showed great gratitude because the pain in her heart area, which had been plaguing her for months since the death of her husband, suddenly disappeared that weekend. She reported that she cried so much like she hadn't in a long time. Perhaps blockages were released through the different interventions, releasing stuck feelings, or energy. The feedback from the other participants was also consistently positive.

After the retreat, the main task for Sanne and me was to tidy up again: clean the rooms, do the laundry, and iron certain parts. But everything at a very relaxed and bearable pace.

Otherwise, the days were not characterized by much sunshine, and the locals here speak of the rainiest spring in a long time. So I spent a lot of time reading again. And if it got nicer, I would lace up my running shoes to explore the area. The Komoot app is an absolute blessing for me to find routes and navigate on them. But here in New Zealand, most paths are privatized. They are paths of farmers who fence their entire area and let huge herds of cows and sheep graze there. If you contact them in advance, it is usually no problem to pass their paths.

On a free day, I walked over the mountains towards the east coast. Since I couldn't find anyone at the beginning to ask for access, I took the liberty and climbed over a gate without asking. A little later, when I reached the foot of the mountain, I heard many sheep bleating and dogs barking in the distance. I started to feel a bit uneasy, but initially didn't let it bother me and continued walking. But a short time later, I saw that it was a large sheep drive. Sheep ran startled past me on the left and right, and further up, I saw a larger herd on the road, accompanied by a car driving the animals downhill. Now I was faced with the decision (No. 1) to turn back, (No. 2) to stay on the path and risk scaring the sheep, thereby disturbing the drive and angering the farmer who could then possibly chase me downhill with the sheep, or (No. 3) to hide off the path a bit to let everything pass by. Due to the rolling hilly landscape, the area was not very visible to me, which made my decision-making process more difficult. However, I opted for the latter, which only carried the risk that dogs might see me and give me away. When the vehicle approached, I watched the action from the edge of the fence, through the grass, adjusting my height as needed for visibility. While I focused my gaze with full concentration on the left at the farmer and his strange vehicle, feeling already safe and patting myself on the back for the right decision internally, I suddenly heard a honk and loud barking. I turned my head about 90 degrees to the right and saw another farmer on a quad bike driving over a hill directly in front of me, accompanied by 2 dogs, who waved at me. I stood up in maximum embarrassment and knew that this time I probably had less decision-making freedom. But the dogs as well as the farmer were merciful. I told him my destination and that I didn't want to disturb and therefore left the path a bit, and he gave me the advice to please ask beforehand next time before I go hiking on private property. So I gratefully continued my hike over mountains with beautiful views and dense forests.

When I reached the sea, the next big challenge awaited me. A small river separated the beach and my further path from me. Options: take off my shoes and wade through or jump. My gut feeling told me it could be close. But I had a short run-up and remembered my school days when I was allowed to participate in the youth track and field competitions due to my performance in the long jump and actually did quite well there against my expectations. So I took a run-up and jumped with confidence and a lot of momentum to new shores. In the end, I should have listened to my gut feeling or just taken a look at my belly after the first 5 weeks in New Zealand. It is already swelling slightly due to much less movement and high consumption of peanut butter, which can be bought here in kilo jars and has so far given me incredible feelings of happiness with every spoonful. Well, in the end, it was probably a conglomeration of factors (underestimated age, peanut butter, gravity) that caused me to land in the water. But I didn't break or strain anything and was on the other side, which quickly comforted me again.

On the way back, I had an exciting encounter with 4 cows. They had escaped from the pasture and were now, like me, trapped on the road, as there was a fence on the left and right, which fenced in the actual pastures. The only way to deal with them would have been if they stayed on the right and I walked past on the left. Or vice versa. But since the animals are very shy here, they ran away from me the whole time, had little desire to cooperate with me, and escorted me straight to a farm whose property I probably had to pass again. But I absolutely wanted to avoid causing unrest or trouble here as a foreigner. Again, I drew on my experiences from my elementary school days when I frequently assisted a friend, whose father was a cowherd, on the pasture. So I always walked behind him, intimidated by the giant beings, while he constantly tried to calm the cows down with slightly raised arms and repeated phrases. At this point, my language problem came to light again because I didn't know how to translate these phrases into English. So I decided to use German. And actually, the last cow stopped and stared at me. The other 3 cows and I also stopped. With gentle gestures and soft words, I tried to explain my intentions to them and then cautiously placed one foot in front of the other, past the first cow. But then the others suddenly continued walking, and I maneuvered myself into an even more uncomfortable situation, with a cow behind me and the others in front of me, a real dilemma. Fortunately, the cow did not follow its herd but backed off. A few meters further, the remaining 3 cows reconsidered imitating their now missing cow and also stopped in the right ditch. I performed my cow pacification ceremony again and slowly moved past them when suddenly one cow got startled, and the others did too, and I was extremely impressed and froze rather out of fear due to the size, power, and energy of the cows. In the end, everything went well, and afterwards, I wondered what I would have done if they had run towards me. I played through various scenarios in my head to prepare myself for the next encounter. I think I will try to swing onto a cow like a cowboy, try to tame it, and maybe whisper soothing words into its ear =).

In general, the experiences are rather limited, but it's nice to have so much time to just let things come and go in your mind.

And here's a nice exercise from the retreat that I now try to practice more or less (as I remember in the moment): When eating, become aware of each food, who was involved in it being on the plate, and thank those people or creatures for allowing you to enjoy it.

I wish you all a contemplative 4th Advent