December of 2004 was a crossroads time of reflection for me before the great change that was to come into my life. In many ways I was quietly, mostly unconsciously, preparing for the next major epoch in my life. During the earlier part of the year I had finally after several years accepted that the relationship with S. was truly over. I made a concrete decision to withdraw my attachment to her and to cease trying to convince her to reconcile. In her place I tried to initiate a relationship with dear friend B., but by December, I was more and more uncertain as to whether or not our relationship had the energy to sustain itself; actually, I was pretty certain it did not. I had also come to accept that any hopes I had had of manifesting a ten-year “career” with Nonviolent Peaceforce were for naught.
As this entry, the last as it turned out in my then journal, indicates, I was in a conundrum of a limbo state, very unsure, uncertain as to what my future would be or whether or not I could continue working for Nonviolent Peaceforce from whom I had become very estranged and most disappointed with:
December 1, 2004, Staff Retreat Weligama, Sri LankaI am stuck in a place of limbo where I need every speck of grace and spiritual progress to keep on keeping on despite my at times rampant critical judgments about myself, NP, our work and the environment of Sri Lanka. Though often I feel incapable, unwilling, unable to go on, I have no choice but to continue seeking grace and humility to just keep consciously with breath and constant prayer to keep going on . . . I am grateful for the space opening within to move a bit more out of the shadow of self-battered ego and into the light of “a better place to be.” Can I recommit, better yet, re-inspire myself to “stay the course” here in Sri Lanka with NP at least through the second year? I don’t know, but I sense a shift within.”
In my spiritual reading of Pema Chodron the other morning I came across this passage in When Things Fall Apart, which resonated so much not only with what I have been blessed with during my recovery for the past 32 plus years, but where again I found myself in December:
I had learned this lesson before, and I knew that it was the only way to go. I used to have a sign pinned up on my wall that read: “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.” Somehow, even before I heard the Buddhist teachings, I knew that this was the spirit of true awakening. It was all about letting go of everything.
A couple of weeks later I wrote this poem, which in hindsight I can see was further indication of a deep shift taking place deep within my consciousness in the process of preparing myself for what was to occur.
chant
Buddhist monks
in nearby monastery
drone an atonal chant
through the darkest moments
before dawn
I sit and watch
fall of gentle rain
streetlights shimmer upon waving fronds
sleeping cat startle itself awake
then slink away in shadows
I swat at whining-buzz of mosquito
again lose count of breaths
another blessing to extend forgiveness
starting with myself
Such is my life
as I pray
not to judge it too harshly
instead to smile a mantra
of gratitude for mere
magnificent beingDecember 13, 2004
Dambulla, Sri Lanka
Christmas Day found me in Uppuveli north of Trinco Town at one of the favorite hangouts of the expat community, The French Garden, a comfortable guesthouse. I was in Room Number Four with a small porch facing the beautiful Indian Ocean with soft waves undulating upon the sandy beach beyond a groove of swaying palm trees. It was a quiet, idyllic Christmas Day afternoon I spent watching the waves and crows, reading Thomas Merton’s Journal about his affair with a nurse in Louisville, perhaps digitally journaling on my now gone MacMojo, I don’t recall. That night was a Christmas Party sponsored by the Sri Lanka Monitoring Mission up the beach at the Lotus Pond Hotel, the residence for this group of peace workers from Scandinavian countries, Finns, Danish, Swedish, mostly Norwegian, even an occasional Ice Lander, who have been charged to monitor the 2002 Ceasefire Agreement in Sri Lanka. Another Norwegian, a student, Grunun, who was also staying at the French Garden and I walked up the moonlit beach to the dinner party about 8:00 pm. There was a long table right on the beach about 10 feet from the softly cascading waves, where about 50 of the members of the expat community in Trinco and their families had a long meal and conversation in celebration of Christmas, 2004. Grunun and I arranged to take a bike ride the next morning to visit Velgra Vihara, a temple ruin, sacred to both Tamils and Buddhist for the past 2500 years, out in the middle of the jungle. It is one of my favorite places in Sri Lanka, most peaceful and serene. Tired, I left about 11:00 pm and went to sleep listening to the soothing rhythm of the waves, sparkling in the moonlight upon the sandy shore.
The next day, December 26th, was absolutely stunning: clear blue skies, a gentle breeze coming off the sea, a nip of coolness in the morning air. Grunun and I had breakfast out on my front porch. About 8:45 am, we discussed whether we should have another pot of coffee, or go on and get on the road for our bike ride to Velgram Vihara. Since I wanted to have plenty of time to have a leisurely visit to the temple ruins and get back in plenty of time to catch the 3:00 pm ferry back to Mutur, I suggested we better get ready to go, so we didn’t have that second pot of coffee. That was the good decision. As I was getting ready to go, the through struck me that I should put my computer, a Mac G-4 Powerbook, in the backpack carrier and take it with me, but I thought to myself, “Naw, no need, I trust Raj, the manager of the guesthouse.” Besides I had the key, which locked the substantial door. So, I left the computer in its pack back bag – bad decision. Off Grunun and I went on our bike ride, leaving the French Garden grounds at about 8:50 am. The devastating Tsunami Wave hit the French Garden at approximately 9:06 am.
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