The End is the Beginning.

 

"St. Saint Isaac the Syrian once said, "Humility collects the Soul into a single point, by the power of Silence. A truly humble man has no desire to be known or admired by others but wishes to plunge from himself into himself. To become nothing. As if he had never been born. When he is completely hidden to himself in himself, He is completely with God. - Humility of the Soul, St. Isaac the Syrian. "

This is the essence of what i truly understand myself of my search for my spiritual awakening, a lifelong journey of ignorance and naivete for the Light of infinite wisdom and bliss in the presence of my Lord. At the moment, at 4:45 AM, I had just woke up from a dream, another of my 'journey dream'. A dream of getting to a destination but fraught with all kinds of 'weird' experiences and a pleasant ending which got me to continue writing this Blog entry. I had arrived at a point of giving up on making any more entries after my last entry which was of the visit to the Mahindarama Buddhist Temple which was like arriving at last back to where it all began as far as my spiritual journey is concern, however this dream I had woke me up to the fact that my journey is far rom over.

In my dream I was headed for a gathering of my relatives a sort of simple get together somewhere and again I found myself broken away rom my family and traveling alone towards this destination. I found myself along a path where it was all muddy and the people I met were all men from an ethnic group of Muslim Indians and Bangladesh origin. They were all it seems all preparing for the prayer making their ablution along the path wet and muddy path from taps lined up along the path. I was almost naked for some reason and found rags and used cloths which I reluctantly used to cover myself and was encouraged to take my ablution. Later on further down the road I found myself sitting in what seemed like a lecture hall along with these 'Taliban ' looking men and turning around behind me i found my eldest brother sitting behind me with a big smile on his face as though happy to see me there among the devoted Muslims. I woke up with a feeling of being accepted by my Muslim brothers and the gathering I had anticipated that of one of a picnic get together was not the case, it was a gathering of a spiritual brotherhood.

This was a very lucid dream where every sense of me was being put to task especially my ego as I felt the disgust at putting on a worn out shirt given to me along the way to cover myself and the feeling I had of the people around me who were as I explained 'lower' class than I assumed myself to be, they were mostly laborers and of migrant types in origin. It is sad that I forgot most of the details to this dream lucid as it was, but needless to say I was moved by it as it carried a strong message as to where i am headed in my spiritual journey; simply put it is time for me to seriously consider praying five times a day. The peace and bliss that i am looking for as i approach the end of my life is in bowing like everyone else towards the east in the presence of the All Mighty Allah,aza wa jala. Until then I will not find the completion to my final destination while on this road towards redemption. This is where i have to sacrifice my ego in the final stage, to accept that I am nothing until I prostrate myself before my Maker with absolute humility and surrender. I may have been raised a Buddhist but I was born a Muslim to my my Muslim parents and this I will honor to the day I enter the grave as Allah {SWT} bear witness on this morning. Even if i may not arrive at the destination I had assumed set forth for me, I will arrive at the destination my spirit has laid out before me. Insha'Allah.  

   

Where and when my Spiritual Journey Began.

 

On my way home a few days ago I decided to make a stop at the old Mahindarama Buddhist temple, located on Kampar Road. It is one of the oldest Sri Lankan, Hinayana or Theravadin Buddhist Temple in the country. This temple is of a very close sentimental connection to my past as it is the Temple where my grandfather had a hand in managing the setting up and paintings of the interior. He was commissioned to do the job and was sent here to Georgetown specifically for the purpose. Although much of the exterior of the temple complex has vastly changed to modern day concretized version, I can still visualize the old temple setting of the 50-60 and seventies when I used to visit it every weekend as a student. 

I must have been about two or three years of age when i spent my time at the temple until I was able to learn the Pali Canon, the language of Theravada Buddhism, a language that was said to have been taught by the Buddha when he spread the teachings of Buddhism in the Southern parts of India instead of the old Sanskrit language of the north. As a child I can still remember the temple atmosphere and the young monks from Sri Lanka who adopted me as their pet student as i was the grandson of their favorite artist in residence. #mahindarama, #buddhist, #temple

Mahindarama Buddhist Temple (Sinhala: මහින්දාරාම බෞද්ධ පන්සල, Chinese: 玛兴达拉麻佛寺) is a Theravada Buddhist temple within George Town in the Malaysian state of Penang. The only Sri Lankan temple in the state, it is also one of the select few in Malaysia that houses the relics of the Buddha. The temple becomes a focal point for the annual Vesak Day festivities within the city.  #vesakday, #georgetown, #srilankan

I would sit facing the reclining Buddha while listening to the talks given by the Bhikkhu and one name that stuck in my mind from those childhood days was Gunaratna Mahathero, born 5th.April 1891 and deceased 19th. Jan 1964. He was a very kind and compassionate old monk who knew the circumstances of my childhood growing up among Muslims while raised as a Buddhist. He must have felt the perilous path I was on even as a child walking between Islam and Buddhism. If one ask any Muslim adult if they are comfortable sitting in a Buddhist temple the answer would be a definite no, the smell of insence would be enough to drive them out, the Buddha statue are idols much against the Islamic faith. I was spared of the fear of these images as they were the creations of my grandfather's handiwork as far as I was concern. 

One of my concern even as a child was the food they offered at the temple as I felt even back then that i should not eat pork or even chicken. I was then told by one of the monks not to worry as they were all strictly vegetarian. Today I have no qualms nor fell ill at ease upon entering any house of worship of any denomination albeit Mosque, Churches,  Hindu temples or Gurdwara; I find the Divine in all of them. #recliningbuddha, #gunaratna

Once I was comfortable with visiting the temple on the weekends for my classes I looked forward to the bicycle rides from my home in Sungai Pinang, Kampung Selut, to Counter Hall the area where the temple is located used to be called. In doing so I would have to pass in front of the legendary Malay actor, P.Ramli's house and later down the road my parent's home; I was adopted and raised separate from my immediate family. Again, the Devil is in the details especially this part of my life. However I am positive I have written it all down once or twice in this lengthy Blog. #sungaipnang, #kampung, #selut, #malay

As I am prone to looking back to the past much to the detrimental of my mental health I see now how my formative years spent in juggling between two diversely opposite religious faith at a very young age has contributed much to who I have become mentally and spiritually. If I had not been contemplating and writing it all down for mor than twenty five years now, as my journal keeping did not began with this blogging but with my sketch book journals that started way before the Internet came into being. I never really thought of it as any form of psychological healing process, but simply because I enjoy writing and telling my stories for what it is worth. Now it has become more than just a hobby, it has come to a fruition in some way of giving a more deeper meaning to who I truly am. Being given up for adoption at birth, being raised a Buddhist while the rest of the household of aunts and uncles, cousins and the rest of the village being Muslim was a challenge even for a child and having to deal with religious taboos and the fate of being called a kafir and frowned upon by fellow Muslim classmates was the icing that capped the cake. 
 

I entered the temple as a child one day some 70 odd years ago and little did I realize that one day I would be stepping into the meditation hall of this temple again this time as an elder who had traveled the world. Did an intensive Zen Practice for two years at the San Francisco Zen Center at Green Gulch, Green Dragon Temple and spent time at the Tassajara Zen Mountain Center in The Big Sur in Carmel Valley, California; I had taken Buddhism to task. I have tasted much of what life has to offer and perhaps still not having a clue as to what or where my faith lies in; is there a God or was the Buddha right? Perhaps if any sense is to be made out of this whole journey it is that it is all an illusion as the Great Shakyamuni Buddha had realized, that it is all an illusion. That there is no one who stepped in or out of the gates of this, the Mahidarama Buddhist temple; a Zen saying -you can never step into the same river twice.

. 

The Temple itself has changed and my grandfather's  works are no more here being painted over by others over the years. However to me this small temple still holds a memory of my childhood years, sitting in awe of the statues and the benevolent looks of the old Theravadin Monks whose sense of compassion and understanding kept a frightened child from freaking out and becoming a welcome member of the community; the Sangha.

Namotasa Bhagavato Arahato Sama SamBuddhasang!

Homage to the World and Time Honored One!

Om Muni Muni Mahamuni Shakya Muni, Bodhisvaha!

I first took refuge in the Triple Jewels of the Buddha's teachings here beneath the canopy of my Grandfather's paintings.  

 

'Tanjong Boy' - Azmi Husin's Solo Exhibition at Hin Bus.

 

Attended an Art launching at the Hin Bus Depot of Azmi Husin's primarily Cartoon works. I met and made the acquaintance of this young and multi-talented artist some years ago when he he was still at the stage of making the initial moves towards becoming what he is today. Azmi or Me as he is popularly known among his admirers is today one of the most productive and prolific artist in Penang if not Malaysia. From a very humble beginning he strived and made his way into several Guinness Books of Records, Malaysia for having done this or that. He is also a Mural artist who has his works covering walls all over the City and the State.

Present at the show were Anne and Leroy my brother Lee Khai's wife and son who had just returned from England where Leroy was studying. It was a very pleasant surprise as we have not seen each other for a while now.

The show was titled "Tanjong Life" or City Life. Her we see Azmi's main character in action, the local kid with the buck teeth and mop hairstyle.

One of his favorite medium is black coffee on watercolor paper.

 

My son Karim being drawn to the now discontinued Iconic Penang Ferry. 

Standing among a few of Penang's Artists young and old.

This was taken at one of Azmi's first exhibition and the launching of his first cartoon book.

Japanese Zen Brother Tsuyoshi -G.G. Farm 1984

  I have been feeling negative vibes in general about people and things around me especially in elevators and while driving and mostly towards myself.  This is not a good feeling and very detrimental towards my spiritual practice of self liberation or simply finding peace of mind within me. I blame it on ageing and lack of tolerance as one gets up there in age. Am I a racist? Perhaps I am deep down and try as I may to overcome this nasty trait I still find myself shooting people in the head in my darker nature that is forever lurking in the shadows of my consciousness. I keep finding myself feeling guilty when these negative thoughts arises in me triggered by an external negative event and then I would be asking for forgiveness from my Maker and the to deliver me from these poisonous and toxic tendencies. Astarghfirullah! Forgive me Lord and remove these feelings from me, I would whisper to myself in the hope that it would help to purify my mind if not my soul, frankly, it seldom seems to work except at the very moment in time, after that it is back to cursing and swearing and sometimes murderous intent boils within me. I thought I had been able to put all these behind me through my practices over the years, but I find my anger management issues still is with me waiting for the moment to explode from within. In the Buddhist perspective these are 'deep rooted karma,' and it takes much work to remove them just as one finds that some plants are simply hard to remove for good when one is weeding the garden as they keep returning as if out of nowhere.

So, I ask myself, what is the solution, how do I remove this flaw for good from my consciousness, how do I become free from this feeling of anger towards anything and everything that takes a poke at me, how do I stop being angry at myself for being anger prone? It cost me US75 Dollars an hour visiting a psychiatrist in Marin County, California at the behest of my boss back when i was a department head for Hand H Ship Service for my anger management issues, it did not do much good but it was a good experience as experiences went, like if they ask have you ever been to a shrink? Yes i can say, one of the best supposedly in Marin County, if you know Marin County, Ca. Now it seems the old snake has started to raise it head again threatening to cause an unwonted scene at the slightest of provocation. At my age this is not what to look forward to, I am too old to loose my cool especially at something trivial like being cut off on the road by and idiot or being given a dirty look in the elevator. One would think that by now with all the so called spiritual practices I have been attempting at i should be free from such mundane vexations. Nope! It seems like it gets more intense by the day and I have to keep repeating to myself Astargfirullah or forgive my Lord and protect me from my nafs or my ego. 

Will I ever be able to drop off all these baggage that i have been carrying before i die? Can I ever enlighten myself and become liberated from my egoic nature, my shadow, my ugly side? Perhaps never, perhaps i will walk into my graves till haunted by my deep rooted, ancient and twisted karma those buried deep within my subconscious. It would be like pulling out 'Tongkat Ali' or the root known as, a plant much sought after for its powerful properties when ingested. Most Malays will tell you that it is almost impossible to pull it out of the ground as its single root runs deep into the ground. Talking about plants especially weeds I had an experience one day while weeding the field of spinach at Green Gulch Farm Zen Community. It so happened that I was weeding alongside a Japanese who was visiting the farm while on his way home to Japan, his name was Tsuyoshi Miyoshi, a mountaineering guide and ha just taken a group of Japanese up the Grand Teton. We worked for three hours weeding using the Japanese long handled weeder and was out doing each other seeing who was better and faster at it. He did not speak much English and so most of the time we worked in silence. 

It happened when we finished the last row almost neck to neck and I decided I just wanted to lay down an take a nap in between two rows of spinach bed. I laid the weeder down across the beds and laid down with my neck resting on the handle and my head dropped tilted back looking up at the sky. I saw the sky just above the low hill slope and there were clouds moving across it silently and it was blissful. Then I looked to my left and saw the bed of spinach I had just finished weeding and from the freshly dug soil I noticed small baby plants sprouting out of the ground like in a slow motion movie. The baby weeds popped out of the ground before my eyes and started to grow as though mocking me. Just as I was lost in this surprise I was shocked out of my mind by a loud yell,"Buta!" or Pig! There he stood with his chin resting on his weeder handle, Tsuyoshi was looking down at me with a silly grin on his face! I shot up and we both laughed and started for the Zendo where we sat beside each other in meditation as thought it was what we were supposed to do with our dirt covered cloths and exhausted body and mind, we sat till it was time for the rest of the Zen students came in to join us for their scheduled sitting time. 

Tsuyoshi left for Japan a few days after and he left behind all his mountaineering cloths and a tent. Even if we could not communicate much in language we were spiritually connected on a deeper level that i felt had helped me to face all the trials and tribulations I had at Green Gulch especially the prejudices and being made to feel not welcome by many older students. My experience with Tsuyoshi gave me the courage I never knew I had in facing people.  

Have they hacked my Blog?

 I believe my Blog has been hacked or whatever is done to stop or discourage me from further expressing my views about my life and life in general positive or otherwise. It is sad, but it is as expected when one's believe of freedom is indeed proven to be time and again is but a grand illusion and as is  suspected and expressed by many who are awakened to the reality of our very existence we are indeed living in some form of simulated preconditioned existence, just we have been conditioned from the moment of our birth by parents, education and society as we grew older. Now mankind has arrived at an Owelian stage where the few is in control over the many. This is the Jihad that man has to struggle against in order to call himself a free man, to be able to stand up and deliver as a man truly in control of himself and his very existence on this Planet without any time for justification or excuses. Either this or die indeed a slave to his own self constructed prison, shackled by the dark side of his nature in the form of demons and  jinns at the behest of their masters the powers that be. It really does not matter anymore whatever happens to this Blog as it has done what it was aimed to do from the very beginning and that is to express my inner thoughta and feeling about my own preconceived thoughts and ideas in the effort to understand them and liberate myself from their demonic and toxic hold on me. This Blog is not for anyone other than myself to reflect over what is truth and what is false, what is the real and what is Not real. This it has been doing over the years from the day it was conceived as a Blog.

Those who are paid to do the censorship of any freedom of expression on the Internet aught to realize how wrong it is for them to do so as it will have a affect over them and their own children and their children to come. The Internet is God's gift to mankind so as to make it possible for man to stay in touch with one another no matter how far or near we are to one another, from all walks of life, color or creed, we are gifted the gift of instant communication in order to aid in our solving the causes of our misunderstandings and animosities that have plagued us since we learned to kill as in the Biblical sense the action of Kane over his brother Abel. Ever since we have no found the cure to suffering even when the Historical Buddha walked the Earth and realized the means to end our suffering. We are bound and determined to end our existence in a cataclysmic overture at the end of our so called days as we approach to inevitable of utilizing the Nuclear Bomb in order to establish our supremacy over our opponents, our darker side, our shadow. Man is drowning into darkness as he is drawn towards obliterating any form of light that seeks to pull him out from this predicament; man has chosen ignorance over his God given sense of Wisdom and Compassion.

Man has become self serving more so than ever and his narrow mindedness has led him towards his narrow minded ways which is all for the mere thought of survival: me and mine comes first.

"Maya - is imagining that what one is imagining is happening outside of one's imagination," -Shunyamurti.

'This the definition of 'Reality' to those in the Egoic state of mind consciousness, mistaking the real for the unreal and the unreal for the real. ...in this fallen culture of {modern day life,} no one has gone through the rights of passage of ego death...or even to adulthood in which one could choose ego death...this becomes a problem to those on the spiritual path or functioning as spiritual guides.'  Shunyamurti -Are you Dreaming or being Dreamed.

Whether dreaming or being dreamed, I am sure of the fact that I am not in control of my freedom to express while making these posts in my own Blogging. It is like I am being monitored by some mother fuckers who have excess to the knowhow in manipulating the Internet making sure that whatever is expressed is not against their own interest or that of their employers. This is not the first time this has happened and I am weary of worse things can happen if I am not careful of what i write. However so be it, I am not in this for any monetary interest nor do I care if I become famous for it, I just am sad that all my years of recording my life would be totally for nothing.   

Here's to 'Wishing You Were Here.'

 Legendary Pink Floyd musician, Roger Waters on Palestine Deep Dive with Matt Kennard and Ahmed Kanaouk, You Tube podcast.

"This is Not war! This is Genocide!" #genocide #rogerwaters #pinkfloyd #deepdive #mattkennard #ahmedkenaouk #palestine

How do they go to sleep at night? They don't, I don't and I am finding that out more and more of late. I woke up in the middle of the night almost exactly to the second and this is where i ended up after listening to the above podcast. Yes I have Gaza on my mind and although deep down I know whatever i feel is of no consequence to me personally as bottom line, I do not exist and all these are just pigments of my imagination, I still find myself attached to the sad feeling in me whenever the word Palestine comes to mind in whatever form. Yesterday morning I was sharing my thoughts with my friends at the Fisherman's Jetty over the Palestine conflict, especially over why the Muslims nations does not offer to accept Palestinians refugees into their country or adopt Palestinian children and so forth. The other question most talked about among Malays in this country is why the Muslim Nation like Iran does not go all out war with Israel. In answer to the later question my opinion is that no leader would like to be responsible for starting a Nuclear war no matter the cause. To the first question my take is what i learn from talks and videos on YouTube mostly and that is, the Palestinians refuse to leave their country as they know this is exactly what the Zionist Israel would like them to do and if they leave there is no hope returning. I feel the Palestinians have gone beyond this narrative. #zionist #israel #muslimnations #iran

Hence if i ask myself when was the last time I thought about the Palestinian Genocide, I can say honestly, yesterday morning at the Malay Fisherman's Jetty where usually hang out of have my breakfast. These are not intellectuals or highly educated gentlemen and their feelings over the matter are more than genuine when they talk of Palestine "Wishing they were there." to lend a helping hand if not kill a Zionist Israeli soldier. This morning my mind on the subject was triggered by stumbling upon the above mentioned podcast. I had been a lifelong fan of Pink Floyd from the day I was introduced to the album, "Wish you were here." This happened in Green Bay, Wisconsin when i was a student at the University of Wisconsin, Green Bay, {UWGB}. I remember it was in the spring of 1978-9 when I had just returned from my trip to the Southwest States of New Mexico, Arizona and Colorado and was catching my breath on the floor of the hostel where two of my Thai friends were staying. They were from wealthy families in Thailand and had money to splurge as I remember, one was the son of number one man of the Thai Airways, the other was his cousin. #arizona #mexico #colorado #newmexico #uwgb #greenbay #wisconsin

Having driven for almost a whole month on a round trip which began at the UWGB and driven all the way down to the southern borderline of the United States and Mexico in between the Sonora Desert and the Organ Pipes Mountains of Arizona  to Denver, Colorado and back to Wisconsin, I was burnt. I crashed at the Thai Boys' place in the living room with a bottle of Whiskey they provided and the Album, "Wish You Were Here" was on the turntable. I never liked hard rock before and never listened to Pink Floyd ever and when I lay on the floor half drunk with the earphones in my head, I was transported to a whole new dimension of life that I never thought was possible for me. The music brought me back to life, I had contemplated ending my life earlier, {another story, another time} however after i had listened to the entire album and fallen into a very deep sleep with the earphones still stuck to my head I was rejuvenated, I was revitalized and energized from my long and arduous journey and I was ready to complete my work studies and hand in to my instructors my works I did while on the road. #sonoradesert #organpipesmountain ##

On my last trip for my degree program at the University was done in Malaysia and one of my destination was to Sarawak where my twin brother was then a director of the Malaysian Handicraft Center in Kuching, Sarawak. Through his connections he arranged a trip for me that took me to stay at the Long House of the Iban Tribe a trip I will never forget. However on a related subject that I am writing about, my twin brother had just bought the Album "Wish You Were Here" and had it out on the carpet floor facing the turntable like an invitation for my attention. It was a very pleasant surprise and I listened to the Album not telling him that it was my favorite album back then too, almost a semester earlier while in Green Bay, Wisconsin. 

Perhaps Roger Waters will write a song entitled, "I got Gaza on my mind." After listening to him over many podcasts on the subject of  Human Rights, I have come to have greater respect for the man and not just his incredible music, but as a human being. It is sad that his course of actions have caused a rift between him and the rest of the Pink Floyd boys, however on his own he has still kept a good many followers and fans. KUDOS! #gaza 

Hand colored Black and White Photos.

  

Loading Ice blocks on to the fishing boat to be used as coolers for the fish caught. This was in Telok Bahang fishing village, I doubt this practice is still ongoing today what with modern technology. Telok Bahang is on top Northwest edge of the Island of Penang. It is today and very popular tourist spot.

  

These were hand painted what used to be black and white photos found at a garbage dump at the University when a building was renovated. Some of these pictures were very good shots perhaps taken by Photography students handed in to be evaluated by the prof. 

 

This scene of the boys playing in the flood waters of the high tide reminds me of my own childhood growing up in Sungai Pinang, Kampung Selut where a more extreme scene was what I grew up as children of similar age as the boys in the picture.

 

Playing soccer in the muddy waters was a pastime that most children enjoyed to the fullest as it involved getting wet and muddy.

The following are pictures taken of a lady de-husking a coconut which takes some knowhow and no easy task.

Collecting seashells or clams along the beach makes a good  well balanced photo shoot. Coloring these black and white photos with water  color was an interesting undertaking as it allowed for many pleasant surprises in the outcome.