A walk up the hill

Since I've been here at Aranya Bodhi (almost 6 weeks now) I've had people ask about photos of this place, wondering what it looks like, and such. I had my camera down here (the kitchen) yesterday because of the blue flower photos, so I thought I'd take advantage of that and do a photo 'essay' of the walk up the trail to my kuti.

On the upper part of our property, called the 'saddle'. The flags guide visitors down the hill. My kuti is to the left, just opposite the flags.

A look down the hill from the flags. It's a winding road, so you can't see far. This is the road I walk down every morning in the dawn light.

When you drive down the hill, this is the first sign of 'civilization' you encounter. We call it the upper landing. On the left is the yurt that is used for a temple, meditation and other activities. On the right is the kitchen, where I spend much of my time. The road on the left spirals downhill to the lower landing, where all the solar panels, batteries, satellite internet receiver, shower, laundry and many other things are located. Off to the right is parking and a privy.

This trail feeds off the upper landing and goes up to the saddle. It's called the spring trail.

Not far from the landing is this barely discernible trail that leads to a kuti. I would have opted to stay in this one, except that it has a wood stove rather than a gas heater. I love that it's so close to everything, but also very private.

The terrain and scenery varies greatly as the trail winds uphill. And this is uphill, even though it doesn't show that so much in the photo.

This is the the spring that is tapped at the base of this tree. It supplies all our water, in great abundance.

This bridge is not too far above the spring. At the top of the steps, a trail leads to the right to Ratana kuti, which I also like very much. To this point, the trail is a delightful walk through the forest.

This is where it starts to get hard! From Ratana kuti up, it's a grind and these deep steps are only the beginning. Hard for old bodies like mine to manage.

A good bit beyond the steps -- my kuti, at the top of the hill. You can see at the far right where the trail continues and reaches sunlight.

Emerging from the trail, this is the top of the property. The flags are behind me. When this road emerges into sunshine, in the distance, it takes a right turn to head downhill once again and off the property. I play a 'fool the mice' game every day, move my car from this spot to a spot in the distant sunshine. Does it work? Hard to tell, but I haven't seen any more signs of mice in the car, so hopefully they are not in hidden places, either.

This is the view from the nose of my car where it's shown in the above photo. Somewhere off on this sunny spot is where they hope to someday build a permanent structure, with electricity, indoor plumbing, all the comforts of home.

 

At the other end of the road in its second parking spot. This large field is full of waving grasses and wildflowers.

 From the car looking up the hill to the top, where the ancient stone stupa is. There's a trail leading up there, but it's overgrown and can't really be seen here. The stupa shows as a pointy white object at the top of the meadow, just left of center. Hard to see.

So that's the tour. Hope you enjoyed.

Beautiful blue flowers

The weather has turned downright HOT here, and that is in no way a complaint. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I'll take hot over cold A-N-Y day! Once the sun emerged from the lifting fog yesterday the heat was somewhat brutal -- and I loved it. Have spent a fair amount of time out there today, sittin' in the sun when I can. I'm a sunshine girl and I need my fix.

Other than that -- not a lot happening around here other than the usual. It should be quiet here until next Thursday or so, when people start arriving early for the work weekend. That doesn't count a trip to Home Depot in Windsor in the truck, with stops at WalMart and a grocery store along the way. The truck is in dire need of a new rear tire, and I laid down the law that it was unsafe to drive so we'll hopefully get safely as far as Guerneville and get a new one there.

But that is then and this is now. I've just had a shower, am about to head up the hill where I think I'll hit the sunshine once more and pick some wildflowers for the Buddha temple (aka the yurt). There are hundreds of them -- beautiful blue flowers -- and many of them will be in the path of a weed eater come Wednesday, and many more in the same path over the weekend. So I might as well get to them first, right?

An afternoon at the beach

Our monastics and the steward from the Vihara in Santa Rosa are here for the weekend, and it's so lovely to have them! Yesterday, when we delivered the noon meal to our beloved Abbess, Ayya Tathaaloka, she asked if anyone was interested in going to the beach that afternoon. Neither of the other monastics wanted to go, so we two lay women spent a wonderful 3 hours or so with Ayya T --- a rare opportunity, given her general health.

There's a cove nearby where access is relatively easy from the highway -- a lengthy walk through cooling woods, but no steep descent or ascent. The day was warm and sunny, only a few people were on the beach -- a lovely change of pace from the forest, which we all love.

For some reason, this father and son intrigued me.

Ayya actually got into the water for about 20 minutes (cold water!), as the swirling motion of the tide is good for her. We wimpy lay people got our feet wet, but kept to the warm sand for the most part.

All in all, a beautiful day. I'm grateful to have been there, and to be here.

Losing weight, Hermitage style

Ratana (Jewel) Kuti

One of the side benefits I hoped to gain from my time in the forest was burning fat off my body. It happened last summer, certainly, but of course with the stress and such of the winter (excuses!) I put it back on, plus some. Tomorrow I will have been here four weeks, so last night I dug out the tape measure (no, not brought for the purpose, merely one of many odds and ends that ended up in my car) and took a reading.

At first glance, the numbers didn't look too encouraging. But this morning, back at the computer and the chart that records these things, I found that I have indeed lost an inch all around. Not enough, but a very good beginning. Now, I hope it continues for the next month, or however long I am here.

After several cold days, today started out with a heavy fog despite forecasts of warmth and sunshine. That fog began lifting very early -- before 7am -- and now we do indeed have sunshine, a good breeze and the promise of warmth later on. Tis a lovely day in the redwoods. Actually, all days in the redwoods are lovely, regardless of weather conditions.

Tomorrow a trip to Santa Rosa, Friday a trip for me into Guerneville to do my laundry. Company (the other two monastics plus another lay person, from the Vihara in Santa Rosa) arriving for the weekend. It will be nice to have Ayya Tathaaloka on the premises, even though I may not see her. Her health keeps her confined to her kuti for the most part, but her wonderful presence will be felt, I'm sure. She is a joy.

So -- no lunch to prepare for two days! I don't mind preparing lunch, but it's nice to have a break. Another woman who lives on this land (the donor) very kindly prepares lunch for us every Wednesday, and tomorrow a supporter in Sebastapol has offered lunch to both of us so that we (she in particular) may eat within the designated time and still make her 12:45pm medical appointment.

So -- other than being cold way beyond the realities of living in the forest, and a whining knee, life is good here.

A clean, dry, sweatshirt is worth a lot

In case some of y'all are wondering, I am still here! Low internet speeds and low energy, combined with being sick, has kept me from the computer much of the time. But life continues here, deep in these beautiful redwoods.

I caught a bug from a supporter while at the Vihara last Sunday and it's laid me low for most of the time since. Thankfully, we had a visitor here last week who did the cooking. The darned thing settled in my ears -- particularly my right ear -- and I guess it's going to take awhile for all the stuff to drain out. Fortunately, someone at the Vihara Monday morning (we stayed overnight) was a nurse-practitioner, so she gave me the low down. Yuk. I'm on antibiotics for another day or so.

Today, after the lunch cleanup I hustled back to my kuti (got a ride) and slept for two solid hours! That is unheard of for me. Of course, aside from cooking, I made two trips from the upper landing where the kitchen is to/from the lower landing where the wash tubs are, to wash some things I forgot to take to the laundromat over the weekend. This involves not only the two trips up the steep road, but two fights with the hand-operated wringer, both of which I won. And now I have a clean, dry sweatshirt to wear, among other things.

After our evening meditation, it's back to bed for me. Gotta keep the energy up. I hope this changes as the bug dies away. If not, I may need to try to hustle back to Eugene sooner than expected. Of course, that can't be before the end of June regardless.

Now it all makes sense.....

Its odd how life brings things full circle at times. That happened to me a couple of days ago when I got the answer to all my crazy health issues from a friend who is in Thailand at the moment on a long meditation visit to Asia. Long story short, she and I both have the same anti-immune disease. Hers was, I believe, somewhat recently discovered and her symptoms are severe. Mine was diagosed 7-8 years ago and my symptoms were minor. Since there's nothing to be done for it, over the years I've simply put it away and forgotten about it, for the most part. On occasion I've wondered if maybe my fatigue was due to this, but would then put it away and forget about it. If it is, it is. Nothing to be done about it.

So, over a few emails while we discovered we have the same thing, I got this from her:

"I have hashimoto's too. My friend, it is not only aging that has you do depleted--it is a debilitating disease!

Your reaction to the day you spent in town sounded so familiar to me--it all makes sense now.

Kitty, please do not underestimate the symptoms of this disease. It also profoundly affects the brain and cognitive function, and we are not able to manage the same level of sensory input as ordinary people. Things like driving, crowded places, and seeing a lot of activity easily overload the Hashimoto brain and leave one quickly incapacitated. I have to be VERY careful at managing my time in crowded places where there is noise or activity, and driving just wipes me out, as the brain is trying to manage so much input.

I am only just now, after a year of full-time practice, able to separate the physical aspects of the disease from my mental reactions, like anger (hashi's people are very irritable as we are do dreaming tired and unwell all the time), laziness, despair, etc. BUT this is because I am in a very controlled environment where there is no pressure for me to do anything. So I can challenge myself at my own pace to push through my limits and see the defilements as they arise. Were I not in such a controlled environment, the fatigue would be overwhelming. 

Kitty I hope you can find a place to rest, heal, and learn from your disease with a teacher who can support you. People don't understand that there are diseases which are not merely about pain, but that usurp all of our energy. When the body has no energy, it cannot function. End of story."

I've used her words because they are so concise -- explains so much about my 'brain fogginess' and my reaction to driving in traffic (yesterday was insane!). Still nothing to be done about it, but it helps me to know the cause -- which is simply that my symptoms are becoming worse. I suspect that stress may aggravate it, and I've had my share of that.

I gotta go -- we're in a bad situation with our internet here and I can't waste too much time on it. Back at you when I can.

A way cool evening

There are times when I really feel my age -- and realize that I should probably just admit that there are just some things I can't do.  Last night was one of those times, and yet, even though my body complained the entire time, I'm so very glad I went. For me, it's probably a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

This is the mouth of the Russian River. As you can see, it's calm and peaceful at this point, perfect for kayaking. Especially perfect for kayaking at sunset/moonrise.

Moonrise over the eastern hills. Kind of fuzzy -- handheld in a floating boat, after all. It was orange, really -- sorry the color didn't really shine through here.

 

A bit later, from a different location. Not bad for handheld, really.

Still later, from the beach. We'd beached the kayaks on the river side, then walked across to the Pacific to meditate. I didn't do much meditating -- lay back exhausted and watched the stars and moon and listened to the sounds of incoming tide and surf.

I had a white-water kayak for a year and loved it, but aside from playing with my boat in still water enough to learn to make it go in a straight line (not easy in a whitewater kayak!), I didn't do much flatwater paddling. Whitewater is very different from paddling in still water. In whitewater, you're mostly moving with the current of the stream you're on and the paddle is used mostly for steering, keeping upright, maybe paddling through a rapid. This was constant paddling, and we took an extra long route, hoping to find a different place to stop. After awhile, my arms felt as if they were going to fall off! It didn't help that I'd spent an hour using a old-fashioned slingblade to clear weeds and grasses along a trail that afternoon, so my arms were tired before we even started.

I just didn't have the strength for this kind of thing, and alternated between internal whining and full awareness of the beauty and joy of being where I was. I'm sore and stiff this morning, and tomorrow morning will be worse, no doubt, but I'm so glad I went. I was up way past my bedtime so I'm a little groggy this morning, will make an easy day of it.

But what an experience! Many thanks to the people who made it happen.

Rattlesnakes!

I had my first unpleasant encounter with the wildlife up here yesterday! Not bad, for the third visit, I suppose. I was walking a little-used trail to a privy on the upper level where my kuti is, and suddenly a loud buzzing ahead stopped me cold. It wasn't a sound I've ever heard in the wild before, but it sounded like a serious warning. As I listened, I thought it sounded like some kind of insect, although I couldn't imagine an insect that would make such a warning sound. It was coming from a clump of dried grass just ahead.

Naturally, the idea of 'rattler' crossed my mind, but I'd never heard a rattler before. I've seen a few out in the wild, but they were napping. Once the buzzing stopped I tossed a small piece of wood into the clump of grass and it started again. And I did it again. Finally, I turned around and walked back where I'd come from. Nature won. I wasn't willing to take the chance that it was a harmless insect.

And, it's a good thing I didn't. This morning I went on good old YouTube and listened to the sound of a rattler -- yep. That's what it was. And Ayya says there have been nests of rattlers up in that general area in the past. It's actually the kuti and privy that are the home of our Abbess, who now spends most of her time in Santa Rosa. She had encountered them on another trail in the past, but this is the main trail to her kuti area.

I've volunteered to tend all those upper trails, cut back the dried grasses and such to make them more passable. Clearly, it's needed, because we can't have a rattlesnake nest in that location. I walked the path a few days ago with no troubles, so hopefully it was just a random snake, not a nest. If that's the case, I can clear the path safely. If not -- well, somebody else is gonna have to figure out what to do about it.

We have an outing scheduled for this evening that I hope will produce photos that I can share tomorrow. Even without photos, I'll share my memories if it's as memorable as I think it will be.

Why here?

It's a breezy, sunny day here on the Sonoma Coast. Cool in the shade, but lovely in the sun or in a sun-warmed space. I've been here two days now, have put my kuti into proper shape for long-term occupancy, although we are still going to install a coat rack and a small shelf. Like everything else, it's at the top of the hill from where I sit now, typing this, but from day one I've forced myself to walk the hills, not drive up out of laziness. The only way to get my walking legs and lungs back is to walk the hills, so I'm doing that a couple of times a day, at least. And they are not small hills. They are steep. My lungs are improving rapidly, but I admit to some sore lower-body muscles that are used in climbing hills! That will pass, the muscles will strengthen and harden, and hopefully, the fat will melt away. I can only hope!

Before I drove down here I had several people ask me in a short time-span why I like to come here, or to other Buddhist monastic locations. I've had simple answers to offer to that question, which is not an uncommon one, but one person pushed me to think a bit deeper and I did that on the drive south. Two days ago I had wonderful words on the subject. Today, those words are no longer part of the present, but I'll try to answer the question anyway.

Aside from the physical beauty of these hundreds of acres of redwoods, the sight of the blue Pacific that looms when we drive out to the highway, as we did this morning, and the peaceful sounds of nature and the forest, I think the real answer is the people. Particularly monastics, since we lay people are generally less accomplished in our practice, less skillful at moderating our actions and words. I also want to help, to give back in some small way for all that has been given to me in terms of teaching. I love being able to ease some small part of their burden, to do a simple task that they may not be allowed to do, such as drive a car, spend money or even prepare their own meals. The two go together. The people are wonderful, and that brings out a better part of me that wants to give of myself to them, in terms of my labor, and to please them in such a way to bring happiness to all of us.

The monastics, as well as some of the other lay people who might visit here, are generally wrapped in such things as metta (loving-kindness), compassion, generosity, joy in the happiness of others, contentment with just what they have at the moment even if what's present is painful to them. Rarely are voices raised, and when they are it's generally due to an egregious display of unacceptable behavior on the part of a lay person and even then, it's only a reprimand. Anger, along with all its little subtitles such as impatience, irritation, resentment, intolerance, hostility, sarcasm and thoughtless words and general mean ill-will, is almost unknown from both monastics and long-time lay practitioners.

Our world in general is not like that. Does your world lack anger, snippiness, hostile words, mean words? Are you part of a world that has no violence, no hatred, no rude or unfriendly behavior even from your loved ones? If so, you are lucky. Few of us live in that world, and some of us are willing to give up some 'normal' comforts of life in order to find that kind of existence, that kind of world, even temporarily. That doesn't totally separate us from the reality of world events, from the violence and anger and brutality that exist in this world and that frequently enter into our 'entertainment'.  We read the news. We aren't hiding from that reality, or sticking our head into the ground to escape, to pretend it doesn't exist. We are simply choosing to live a different kind of life, amongst others with similar feelings. A place where we are not confronted with anger in daily life -- whether on newscasts, TV shows, movies, road rage, or even a loved one who is having a bad day or a series of bad days.

Lay visitors come with differing backgrounds and issues, differing levels of accomplishment. Some are difficult, some are easy. My first visit here was very difficult. I struggled with the terrain (had just had about 10 stitches removed from a skin cancer excision on my calf), with sleep, with energy, with the entire environment. I was less skillful then in my practice, and it showed. We are all still people and generally people with issues of one kind or another. Still, good behavior and getting along with others is encouraged and even necessary, for a peaceful existence for all concerned.

I use the universal 'we' here, but these are my thoughts. Others have their own reasons and I can't speak for them. I can only say that this is the atmosphere that's created here, and at other monastic residences, and that being around people like this is a wonderful influence on me, a true gift in terms of helping me grow in my own practice, to ferret out whatever bits of anger remain in me, and help me to cultivate qualities such as love, compassion, peace, harmony, generosity and good-will. These are the kind of people I like to be around, and the kind of person I'm working to become. These are happy people, and I'm a happy person most of the time. Why choose to surround myself with unhappy, angry people? I need smiles, laughter, a good sense of humor, and most of all -- kindness. So I find it here, then when I return home there's more of all that in me, and it lasts, becomes part of who I am and becomes more and more the type of person I want to be around. I learn and grow here, and all that brings happiness. The hardships of living on the land melt away and become unimportant.

What's not to like about that?

Ooooohhhhhhhh!

Ohhhhhh!

That seemed to be the limit of my vocabulary early this morning as I drove from Eugene to the Coast. First, the road begins to wind its way over the Coast range, alongside a stream surrounded by old, thick trees whose branches were curved and arching in beautiful patterns, all moss-topped and breathtaking in the morning light. Then when I reached the Siuslaw River just before Florence it started again -- I'm just a sucker for rivers and bridges and pilings and piers jutting out and the whole picturesque scene. Naturally, neither of these particular sights offered an opportunity for stopping to take pictures.

Other Ohhhhhhs! followed here and there along the length of the coast, which is itself one of my favorite places on earth. I stopped often for photos, but none of them are really interesting. I stopped for lunch at my favorite place, The Crazy Norwegian's, in Port Orford, but passed on their fabulous fish and chips because I was having some tonight. Bad choice! The clam chowder and sourdough bread was as delicious as I expect food there to be. But tonight, I arrived at the remembered place in Brookings to find that it had changed -- and not for the better! No more fishing supplies, more tables, a fancier and more expensive menu, and the fish and chips were barely more than mediocre. A good example of the Buddhist theory that everything changes. And maybe a reminder of the dangers of craving anything.

So -- tomorrow on to California, the Sonoma Coast. And while none of today's photos were particularly good, I'd like to share them anyway because I just can't help myself. Unfortunately, the slow download speed of the wireless in this motel won't allow that. This, too, has been a disappointment -- prior stays here have been terrific. But -- no matter. It's clean and private, the bed is good and the tv works. And I don't want to do much more than sleep.