Reflections – The Agony and Ecstasy of School Life 20/6/2012

                                                                              BAKA!

 Reflections – The Agony and Ecstasy of School Life

20/6/2012

So! Bahari San, where are we at right now? What’s really happening in your life? Are you happy? Satisfied? Or still moaning and groaning about things that might have been?

Are you sitting? Practicing? Making life any easier for yourself—or for others?
Whatever it is, life keeps flowing into the future, with or without you.

As the days fly by, it has become more apparent that in seeking to understand my 'self', the journey is the salvation—the relationships I have shared with others, and those with the natural and the supernatural. Some stories can be told, some cannot. All in all, I believe I’m living the life I had envisioned: the life of an elegant beggar.

These days my body aches more—different places, different times. I blame it on angin (wind). Every day I wake up and begin with at least half an hour of breath meditation. Before I sleep, I do the same. Call it yoga, zazen, wirid, or dhikr. I breathe in: Hu. I breathe out: Allah. Simple and grounding.

Then I slowly return from this meditative state, a little calmer, more aligned. The tightness in my neck and shoulders softens. After that, I stretch—Tai Chi, martial arts movements—something I’ve carried from my days with Silat Seni Gayong Malaysia in Terengganu, and later, with my own students.

With full breath awareness, I let the breath move the body, not the mind. That’s the essence of my practice, the road to self-discovery. Every breath, every movement, becomes part of the great cosmic dance. Sometimes in these moments, I feel at one with the Universe. Blissful. Weightless. Sacred.

But this path takes patience, deep responsibility. A bodhisattva serves all beings in the ten directions, past, present, and future.

I’m reminded of Surah Al-Kahfi, where even Prophet Musa (Moses) failed the test of patience at the hands of the immortal Prophet Khidr.

“What do you hope to achieve in this life?” he once asked me. I had no answer. That was forty years ago. He said,
"Because you don’t know, you must slow down and find out. Stop thinking like an old man."

I never forgot those words.

Back in high school at Sekolah Menengah Sultan Sulaiman in Kuala Terengganu, I once told my Maths teacher, Mr. Andrew Heng, that he and I were both wasting time—I wasn’t going to learn Maths. So I asked to be excused from class. He was tall, skinny, always sharply dressed, and a damn good hockey player. That day, we walked together to the beach, and we had a long talk. He tried to understand me. It stayed with me.

But I still refused to sit for the Maths papers during both my LCE and SC exams. I simply wrote my name and walked out. I had a full-blown phobia. Maths brought me pain—mental anguish—and in turn, I gave up on the dream of higher education.

That all changed in 1976 when I was invited to study at the University of Wisconsin, Green Bay. There was just one catch—I had to sit for the SATs, and that meant taking Maths again. No escape.

I told a friend—he was a university counselor—about my history. He introduced me to Mr. Armstrong, a kind and curious Maths professor. I spilled everything—my fears, my failures. When I was done, I felt lighter. Free, almost.

Armstrong looked me in the eye and said, “Forget the past. Just do what I say. No excuses.”
I did. That semester, I scored 100% on three math tests. It blew both our minds. He’d unlocked the door to my future.

I spent five years getting my Fine Arts degree. I wasn’t in a rush—I was finally enjoying the ride.

So what does all this have to do with how I’m doing right now in this moment, in this space and time?

...to be continued.