CHUNG FU AND THE TIGER-LEAPING BUDDHA

PLEASE DO NOT SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM TO CHECK THE LENGTH OR THE PICTURES. IT'S FOR YOUR OWN BENEFIT

PATIENCE, GRASSHOPPER

“Go ahead,” he said; he handed her three Chinese brass coins with holes in the center. “I generally use these.”
She began throwing the coins; she felt calm and very much herself. Hawthorne wrote down her lines for her. When she had thrown the coins six times, he gazed down and said:
“Sun at the top. Tui at the bottom. Empty in the center.”
“Do you know what hexagram that is?” she said. “Without using the chart?”
“Yes,” Hawthorne said.
“It’s Chung Fu,” Juliana said.

Let the circus begin...
___________________________________

As some of you may know, I hail from the land of New York. I am not a city slicker by birth, but I did spend the first three years of my “real world” (post-college) experience in THE CITY. Three years in the Big Apple taught me much about the universe, and inevitably shaped the lens through which I viewed my experiences on the other side of the spin ball. But we're not here for that story.

We're here to talk about China. Seven weeks of it, on the heels of a few months in India and Southeast Asia, and just before the unforgettable conclusion to a seven month journey by swinging through Egypt, Germany and Ireland.

Even so, I'm gonna tell you one relevant and brief pre-China story. It was during one of those reset/reassess periods during my tumultuous time in New York that the spin ball's great magnet first pulled me toward the East. It was May of 2008. I'd just come back from a Flaming Lips concert and Philadelphia, and given up on my first true unrequited love. I was hanging out in our living room in Queens when I saw Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test sitting on the shelf. It was an old roommate’s copy, and I’d read it months before. On a whim I grabbed it and flipped it open to a “random” page (page 142, to be exact). It happened to be the best four pages of the whole book, discussing synchronicity, the I Ching, and a Hermann Hesse novel I’d read the year before, Journey to the East:

“It was my destiny to join in a great experience,” the book began. “Having had the good fortune to belong to the League, I was permitted to be a participant in a unique journey.” It goes on to tell about a weird, circuitous journey across Europe, toward the East, that the members of this League took. It began, supposedly, as just a journey, to get from here to there, but gradually it took on a profound though unclassifiable meaning: “My happiness did indeed arise from the same secret as the happiness in dreams; it arose from the freedom to experience everything imaginable simultaneously, to exchange outward and inward easily, to move Time and Space about like scenes in a theater. And as we League brothers traveled throughout the world without motor-cars or ships, as we conquered the war-shattered world by our faith and transformed it into Paradise, we creatively brought the past, the future and the fictitious into the present moment.” The present moment! Now! The kairos!

Little did I know...

_______________________________

I’ve brought in a few friends I met during my time in New York to get us pumped up for this crazy tale. This duo’s intensity and enthusiasm brought me back from spiritual zero more than a few times when I was living at Hell's Gate in Queens. Many a night I would stand along the polluted shores of the East River, the barrel fires of the industrial islet that is Randalls Island burning brightly on the other side, the steam stacks from the Con Edison plant blinking their three strained red eyes a few blocks behind me. I would come down here to watch the sunset behind the skyline of Manhattan, which would begin to glow just before the sky above it ceased to do so. It may have been grungy, but in a place like New York I considered it a luxurious setting for clearing my head and considering the next step. Seeing the Empire State Building lit up at night, especially after sunset, transforms Hell's Gate to heaven.


My friends came to my rescue one night back in March of 2009. March is typically the month where I suffer existential despair. Things down by the river were cold, ugly and dead. I had dreams of being a well-read writer with an immaculately insane imagination, yet I found myself in yet another job I detested. I'd spent three years in this city, and I was feeling spiritually, artistically and financially stagnant. Luckily, my new friends swung by to give me a pep talk, and it carried me all the way to the other side of the Magic Spin Ball. They can visit you some time too, if you like. All you have to do is click a few buttons on a computer.

Now they're here to get your blood pumping too; to pull you out of any mental, spiritual or physical rut you might be finding yourself in these days. They’ve traveled far, all the way from the shores of Shaolin.



I speak, of course, of the Wu-Tang Clan. Please welcome their resident storyteller and get-things-done-in-a-gritty-sort-of-way go-to guy, Raekwon. And his fellow clan member, the sultan of stream-of-consciousness, Ghostface Killah. This night they performed Striving For Perfection (with a few minor [bracketed] adaptations to suit my slightly more mundane lifestyle at the time):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbrFusUX7KM

Raekwon: Yeah yeah I'm tired of doing this shit.
Ghostface: Aight word, aight I'm a set it
Raekwon: Tell me how you feel man
Ghostface: Yo son, check the fly shit son
Raekwon: S'up cousin, how you doin'?
Ghostface: Yo baby, check it man. I got a new connect son, for real man. Fuck all this [expense report] shit man.
Raekwon: No doubt
Ghostface: My man got out of state for fifteen
Raekwon: Yeah
Ghostface: You know what I'm saying?
Raekwon: You know my man's gonna represent PA, politickin to death so
Ghostface: Right right
Raekwon: It's all good, what's up? What you wanna do?
Ghostface: We gotta move God, we gotta move God, we gotta migrate. Get [a visa], get the fuck outta New York, ya know what I'm sayin'? Bounce man, start fucking with bigger and better shit
Raekwon: So you tellin me no more [marketing meetings], strictly [adventures]?
Ghostface: No more no more NO MORE man!
Raekwon: Then I'm with you, I've been waiting!
Ghostface: No more, God!
Raekwon: WHASSUP?
Ghostface: It's the POT OF GOLD right here, man, this is it, man, this is GLORY. You know what I'm saying?
Raekwon: So yo, the first thing we gotta do man is just know what we gonna do with this [experience] when we get it man.
Ghostface: Right
Raekwon: Cause I'm not trying to just be, sitting on motherfucking two [and a half] thou and acting like I'ma just be a
Ghostface: Nah
Raekwon: a [administrative assistant] all my life son
Ghostface: Nah
Raekwon: I got bigger and better plans, Son
Ghostface: No doubt, we gonna move on man. Son, long as the love and trust is there, Son, we gonna grow, God
Raekwon: You know it
Ghostface: We gonna grow like a plant, Son
Raekwon: Yo you coming at me like that Son?
Ghostface: For real Son, come on you know me man
Raekwon: You know my style, Son
Ghostface: You know how my heart feels though, God
Raekwon: No doubt
Ghostface: But yo God, for real, this is my last time, God. I'm hanging this shit up man if this shit don't work right here, God. You know what I'm sayin?
Raekwon: Word up, I feel the same way, I feel the same way kid
Ghostface: Yo God, ya know what I'm sayin? I got [yelled] at man, my [whole dignity] got shot the fuck up man.
Raekwon: Yeah
Ghostface [pointing at head]: Yo God, my [novel]'s in here God, see I gotta take time man and [follow] my [bliss] man
Raekwon: Yeah yeah yeah
Ghostface: YaknowhatI'msayin? Sit around man, with my grandkids, man
Raekwon: But yo Son, it's like this man. We all livin man, we here now man
Ghostface: Word man
Raekwon: YouknowhatI'msayin? Let's not think like we gonna be stagnating, man. Let's keep movin ahead man, keep our head up, man. Take care of our [dreams] man
Ghostface: God, word is bond, I'm your eyes that's in back of you, kid
Raekwon: Let's DO IT then!

I couldn't have said it better myself.

So I didn't.

Here’s what I learned during my Journey to the East.

That is, here’s what you learned. After this paragraph, the Oracle is making me switch over to the second person narrative to tell this tale. This way it's not about me. It's about YOU. Which is very true. Trust me. I have a bamboo stick. I can't find it right now, but that's not the point.

So, without any further ado, during your voyage in China you learned:


1. That Yunnan province in southwest China is much cleaner and more modern than most of Southeast Asia, especially Laos, the country from which you entered. You went to Yunnan because the Lonely Planet guidebook a road acquaintance gave to you said that if you have time for only one province in China, this is the one to visit. With the best natural scenery, clean modern cities and greatest diversity of ethnic groups, it's got it all. It also borders Myanmar and Tibet, with Sichuan province at its northern border.

2. That you really don’t look like your passport picture, because the customs official called over her superior to quintuple-check your appearance with your photograph. Either that or all white people look the same to them.

That the government is so insecure that it not only blocks Facebook with its advanced technology most likely designed by Americans in Silicon Valley, but it also blocks your weblog. That this gives you a convenient excuse to relax on the travel writing front.

3. That the biggest city in Yunnan is Kunming, which has an elevation of 1400 meters (approx. 4200 feet). That this is almost as high as Denver, Colorado, which, coincidentally, you've never been to. That Kunming's crisp fresh air and year-round spring weather is quite a relief from the constant 90 F temperatures you've experienced from January through mid-April while traveling through southern India, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos. That this is especially nice considering it actually is spring, and for once your body clock is synchronized with the season its used to. That Kunming has beautiful parks, is very clean with modern buildings, and has delicious tea.







4. That Chinese strangers will help you get onto a bus, tell the driver where you’re going, and then the driver will make sure you get off at the correct destination, all without any spoken language being understood. That all it takes is a tiny map ripped out of a guidebook, pointing and smiles. That you shouldn’t try making numbers with your hands to indicate the number of the bus lines you're trying to find, because they even have a different system for that. That not necessarily caring about getting to your destination is a good way to endure this confusion.



That if you spend an hour searching for a hostel based on an outdated Lonely Planet map and it’s not where the map says it is, it was probably right behind you when the bus dropped you off over an hour ago. That it's harder not to care about getting to your destination when you're walking with a heavy pack and an empty stomach.

That no matter how hard you try or how phonetically they spell the words in your guide book, Chinese people will be totally clueless when you try to speak to them in Mandarin (and even more clueless if you speak English). That at least knowing how to say please and thank you [and saying the latter a lot] will go a long way (anywhere in the world, including home). That no matter how you pronounce “thank you”, you will elicit giggles and smiles from your listener, and be told to pronounce it a different way, even though the previous giggler/smiler just told you an opposite way the day before. That this will not change during your entire Chinese experience.



That strangely-dressed old women in Dali, of the local Bai tribe, are the most likely drug-pushers. That it feels ironic to be enjoying a self-imposed period of sobriety while the same old woman notices your shaggy appearance and hassles you to buy magical plants from her, day after day. That even though it’s really against the law there, it’s practically growing everywhere outside the city, and the poor tribes people make their money selling to long-haired tourists like you. That now that you read over this, you feel kind of guilty denying her magical plant business.



That the woman pictured above isn't the specific pusher who is being referred to, so you shouldn't judge her. That you shouldn't judge her anyway.

That using chopsticks can be done by the incompetent, no matter how much creativity is necessary. That if it gets from the plate to your mouth, it is a success. That if you have long red hair and wear funny clothes while trying to use chopsticks at an outdoor restaurant in Dali, you will have trouble determining whether the passing Chinese tourists are smiling and laughing at your appearance or your chopstick technique. That it's probably both. That you’re probably not doing it correctly if the restaurant owner brings you silverware after watching you struggle for five minutes, and that this is disappointing if you actually thought you were getting the hang of it.



5. That if you ever get lost in Lijiang (Old City) while wandering at night through a confusing convoluted conduit of cobblestone alleyways lined by the same shop styles, finding any white person in the crowd of Chinese tourists will feel like a miracle.



That this is a miracle not because you like white people more, but because when traveling in Asia, white means English-speaking. That this was explained to you by your new directional gurus after you naively asked them, "Do you speak English?" That if one of these people is from Finland, it is a bona fide miracle.





6. That Tiger Leaping Gorge is one of the most beautiful and inspiring places on Earth. That if it’s a rainy day, there will be enchanting mists emanating from the gorge’s interior as you enter, and only the sound of the wind whistling through the pines and soft whoosh of the river waters below, fully meeting all expectations of romantic settings whilst on a mystic voyage in the Orient.





That it is the deepest gorge in the world, if measured from the Jingsha River below (1800 meters) to the top of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain above (3400 meters). That although you’re not actually walking at that height, the hike still takes you 2,500 feet above the rushing waters below (elev. 2600 meters). That you also have Haba Snow Mountain above you on your left, towering at 3000 meters.



7. That reading Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig a second time after a several year break will significantly enhance your comprehension of the most widely-read American philosophy book. That this book also happens to have great psychological/spiritual advice on how to get the most out of climbing a mountain, whether literal or figurative. That



“Any effort that has self-glorification as its final endpoint is bound to end in disaster. Now we're paying the price. When you try to climb a mountain to prove how big you are, you almost never make it. And even if you do it's a hollow victory. In order to sustain the victory you have to prove yourself again and again in some other way, and again and again and again, driven forever to fill a false image, haunted by the fear that the image is not true and someone will find out. That's never the way.” (Pirsig 189)



That this information is especially useful to come across shortly before embarking on a hike through Tiger Leaping Gorge, considered a traveler's "rite of passage" by the guidebook. That six people have died while hiking it in the past fifteen years, but given the heavy traffic, that number is comparatively small, and mostly consists of those who wandered too far off the beaten path or foolishly tried to climb over a mudslide. That if every highway on-ramp had signs posting how many people had died on that particular highway in the past fifteen years, fewer people would drive long distances. That you come across many other hikers who appear as if they could surely use Pirsig's climbing advice, determined to press on through rain and cold without eating because they are on a schedule and must conquer the trail as quickly as possible. That one of these hikers you meet also went to Cornell, and has weird shoes shaped like his own feet.



That choosing to pay 10 Yuan ($1.48) for a bamboo walking stick with a carved handle is probably a much wiser long-term investment than the Snickers bars and bags of what appear to be very poor quality ganja offered at the same isolated kiosk. That since you just split off from the strangely-shaped shoe crew and bid farewell to some French Iehovah's witnesses at the last meal stop, you find yourself alone and in the wilderness for the first time in your five month journey [having been required to hire guides in India, Cambodia and Vietnam]. That this new bamboo walking stick of yours goes really well with the surrounding settings.

That taking your time by stopping at Tea Horse Guest House for the night has its rewards. That being patient has given you a sunny morning to start your second day in the gorge. That there's nowhere you have to be, so you might as well take your time and stop again at Halfway Guest House, only another hour of enjoyable hiking away.







8. That some people aren’t as grateful for exquisite and rare natural scenery as you might be, and don’t feel the need to step back and take time to take it all in. That while remarking on the magnificent view from the Halfway Guest House, lounging on a couch and staring at snow-capped peaks atop an enormous rocky slant down to the river below, you were flatly contradicted by a middle-aged Chinese woman who, instead of hiking to the halfway point where you met, rode in a minivan with her family on the lower road. That you were shocked to hear her say, “No, this isn’t amazing,” as if it was a boring scene on her television or lap top screen.



That when you asked her just what she did consider amazing, she said mountains in Sichuan province. That other Chinese people will later tell you that there aren't big mountains in Sichuan province, only forests. That you will later go there yourself and learn they're both wrong: there are beautiful mountains, but they're nothing like this. That regardless of all of this misinformation and strange aesthetic criticism, you feel grateful for the cosmic gift of being able to see the beauty yourself. Who cares if anyone else sees it?



That you can't let other people’s perceptions of reality interfere with your personal enjoyment of it. That the secret to blissful existence is knowing that all that matters is that you find something amazing, exciting or somehow worthy of your exultant praise. That it gives you a reason to break into a grateful grin, whether it’s music, a book, a food, a person or a view.



That maybe the universe is well aware of this, and sends you to places and gives you books to read and plays you music knowing full well that you will appreciate them on behalf of the universe, because the universe evolved you into being for this very purpose.



That hanging out at the Halfway Guest House for three days is the perfect way to perceive the permanence of this place, realizing that it is the fixed entity, not you. That reading over your journals on a nearby hill overlooking the gorge is a good way to pass the time while you wait for the full moon the next night. That you can't believe you haven't given your mom a hug or cracked a joke with your buddies since you accidentally drank Ganges water with a holy sadhu in Varanasi over four months ago. You look down at the Jingsha, and you're not necessarily thirsty.



That you should probably mention that another pertinent detail is that you specifically hoped to be in Tiger Leaping Gorge during the full moon. That the moon has begun to take on a very symbolic significance to you in recent years, as it has for many cultures throughout the history of the magic spin ball. That is, the bigger magic spin ball that the smaller less colorful magic spin ball spins around.

That another essential albeit tangential piece of information is that your grandmother and grandfather traveled in China decades before you. That your first solo abroad adventure involved studying in New Zealand five years ago. That you knew they had also gone there decades before you too, but you never really thought about it. That your grandmother died several years ago during a very magical and transforming period of your life, when you began to realize that the world was much more mysterious and full of synchronous surprises than you suspected.

That a few months before you left home your dad gave you the Thanksgiving Address: Greetings to the Natural World read by the Iroquois Native American tribes of upstate New York before every gathering. That you remember him giving this to you because he'd heard it read at a meeting through his work, and he discovered that it was the best he'd ever heard his own beliefs articulated.

That, on a side note, you'd like to point out that your father just retired after 32 years of service as wildlife biologist and department head at the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. That you thank him for this dedication to protecting the natural world which spawned you and continues to nurture you.

That, as long as you're complimenting your father, you are going to give praise to your mother as well, whose years as a social worker with children and the terminally ill have set a standard for compassion that you have always been hard-pressed to approach.

That, back to this Native American moon business, you were pleasantly surprised to learn that the Iroquois called that other magic spin ball "Grandmother Moon":

"We put our minds together and give thanks to our oldest Grandmother, the Moon, who lights the nighttime sky. She is the leader of women all over the world, and she governs the movement of the ocean tides. By her changing face we measure time, and it is the Moon who watches over the arrival of children here on Earth. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to our Grandmother, the Moon. Now our minds are one."

That this all fits together nicely in your memory and convinces you to keep doing crazy things like what you're about to describe in the next section.


9. That sitting on a hill overlooking the gorge for approximately ten hours without changing place so you could see the difference in lighting, from sunset to moonrise, is one of the most awe-inspiring and unforgettable things you will ever experience.



That your favorite traveling albums, Paris, Texas and Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid go really well with sitting still and absorbing such surroundings. That is, after you try out silence alternating with the sound of the wind for the first hour.



That according to Zen: “In all of Oriental religions great value is placed on the Sanskrit doctrine of Tat tvam asi, "That art thou," which asserts that everything you think you are and everything you think you perceive are undivided. To realize fully this lack of division is to become enlightened.”



That you were temporarily “enlightened” while attempting to practice what the Taoists call "do-nothing", sitting still on this hill and staring at the mountains across the way. That there are many reasons you can't quite describe exactly how you achieved this state. That all you can say is that if you ever achieve it, you will definitely know. That no one has to take your word for it. That that doesn't matter to you as long as you experienced it yourself. That ultimately, anything that happens to you will only truly be known by you at the time it happens, and then later be contained in your memory. That no one else will ever see it through your eyes, no matter how well you tell a story. That if you tell a story well enough, that won't matter either. That, ultimately, as you will later explain, they are seeing it through your eyes.



10. That Zen Buddhism and its described Satori experience make a little more sense to you now. That it'll probably be a good idea to explain these to your readers when you write your blog about this. That Huston Smith's The World's Religions is probably the best source for a sampled explanation:

Ztt! I entered. I lost the boundary of my physical body. I had my skin, of course, but I felt I was standing in the center of the cosmos. I saw people coming toward me, but all were the same man. All were myself. I had never known this world before. I had believed that I was created, but now I must change my opinion: I was never created; I was the cosmos. No individual existed.



The genius of Zen lies in the fact that it neither leaves the world in the less-than-ideal state in which it finds it, nor withdraws from the world in aloofness or indifference. Zen’s object is to infuse the temporal with the eternal–-to widen the doors of perception so that the wonder of the satori experience can flood the everyday world. “What,” asks the student, “is the meaning of Boddhidharma’s coming from the West?” The master answers, “The cypress tree standing in the garden.” Being’s amazingness must be directly realized, and satori is its first discernment. But until–-through recognizing the interpenetration and convertibility of all phenomena–-its wonder spreads to objects as common as the tree in your backyard and you can perform your daily duties with the understanding that each is equally a manifestation of the infinite, Zen’s business has yet to be completed. (Smith 136)



11. That the perfect way to return to the world after withdrawing into yourself and uniting with your surroundings is to conduct Beethoven's 6th Symphony (Pastoral) with your new bamboo conductor's stick as you watch the sun set on the snowy mountains to your left, covering the village below in shadows before escaping behind the snowy mountains to your right. That playing Hendrix's All Along the Watchtower is infinitely more fun on a bamboo stick than on an air guitar. That you realize you've strayed a little from the initial "do-nothing" intent of this experience, but what the hell, you're alive.



That if you want to get an idea of heaven, copy this link (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWiJWLiSKro&feature=related)and play while blowing up the above or below pictures. That if you want to actually experience it firsthand, get an mp3 player and go there yourself. That this song reveals the secret to any seeker after God or adventurer searching for treasure. Clue: it's the only English spoken amongst the made-up Icelandic. That you're not a racist; they really did make up the Icelandic sounding language used in the song.







12. That watching the stars come out has its charm, but that it's more exciting watching the slow glow of the moon steadily saturate the sky above Jade Dragon peak, until it stands behind the stage curtain of the pyramidal peak, making it glow like some divine omen, and ultimately make a mostly full appearance.



That DJ Shadow is quite fitting to listen to while walking through the shadows of the pine trees as you descend the mountain with your walking stick, contemplating the magnificence of that magical spectacle you just witnessed, and filled with gratitude at your ability to just BE here. That DJ Shadow is a hip-hop DJ who came to prominence in the mid-1990's by creating an entirely new album from samples of other artists' music. He re-arranged beauty that existed and in the process created something new and invaluable to the ongoing Quality symphony of the universe. That the song What Does Your Soul Look Like, Pt. 3 (live) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y9s4PFsa6Zo) from Shadow's Live! In Tune and On Time makes for a great start down the hill:

In the beginning was the word, and the word was the message, and the message was LOVE, and love was the SWARM. I AM the magnificent.

That this prompts you to get to thinking about the big I AM in the sky, or more correctly, that looks through your eyes as you float along the sound waves of the big one-song/story that is the universe. That you realize you really want to write about this all right now, and just like Shadow, use all sorts of samples from other authors and musicians to show how they were a part of your experience, and how it's essential to bring them up and give them credit for bringing you the love and awe if you're going to truthfully convey what these experiences mean to you. That just as you finished your last blog in tune and on time, so will you finish your next one, and you're just going to have to wait until that divine disc jockey who spins the records of reality on your retinas decides to bump another beautiful blog beat through your being. That right about as you realize this, that other eerie Shadow song with the beat that can't be beat comes on, Building Steam With a Grain of Salt:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32X-ieCav-M

From listening to records i just knew what to do
I mainly taught myself
And, you know, I did pretty well
Except there were a few mistakes
But um, that I made, uh
That I've just recently cleared up

And I'd like to just continue to be able to express myself
As best as I can with this instrument
And I feel like I have a lot of work to do
Still, I'm a student - of the drums
And I'm also a teacher of the drums too

That you are the instrument of LIFE. That everything is the instrument, playing the universal song, telling the eternal universal story of love.

And I would like to able to continue
To let what is inside of me
Which is, which comes from all the music that I hear
I would like for that to come out
And it's like, it's not really ME that's coming
The music's coming through me



That this all goes really well with the moonlit gorge before you. That you congratulate the cosmic conductor on such a carefully crafted experience.

The music's coming through me.

That hostel owners lock their courtyard doors some time around midnight, even if you did pay for your bed already. That as long as there is a path leading above the courtyard and you have no misgivings about jumping down into the courtyard from above, you’ll be fine. That it is well worth it to sit up all night on the aptly named Inspiration Terrace and watch the moon cross the sky, until it sets behind the same mountains as its solar sibling did several hours before.


13. That reading your favorite holy verses from the American prophet of poetry, Walt Whitman, and his immortal incomparable Song of Myself, is a wise method for passing time while awaiting the mountain sunrise:


I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. (Whitman 63)




Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and
Knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers,
And the women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love, (Whitman 67)

I exist as I am, that is enough,
If no other in the world be aware I sit content,
And if each and all be aware I sit content. (Whitman 83)

That the sunrise over the mountains the next morning will be one of the most brilliant spectacles you will ever behold, especially considering you've watched this solemn sanctuary of spirituality since the same sun went down over the opposite mountains eleven hours ago.



That it takes forever for the sun to rise over a 3400 meter mountain. That beginning your day with scrambled eggs, muesli and yogurt is proof enough of goodness in the world. That that Walt Whitman was onto something:

I tramp a perpetual journey (come listen all!)
My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut
from the woods,
No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
I have no chair, no church, no philosophy,
I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange,
But each man and each woman of you I lead upon knoll,
My left hand hooking you round the waist,
My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the public road.

Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it for yourself.



It is not far, it is within reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.



Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us
hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go.
(Whitman 118)

That hiking out of the gorge, over waterfalls and along the bumpiest, narrowest trails atop the steepest cliffs thus far is the best way you've ever greeted the new day. That you'd have loved your office jobs in New York City a whole lot more if they inexplicably began with a walk like this.







14. That it costs a lot of money for a taxi to the nearest village when you're the only one going and you've only got an hour and a half before the only bus back to Lijiang leaves that day. That you pass and temporarily listen to the driver haggle with two hikers who eventually decide to walk to the nearest town rather than split the same amount that you just paid. That the driver who doesn't speak English drops you off at the top of a hill and simply points to a village in the distance. That it turns out you'll have to descend this hill without a clear path leading anywhere in order to reach the village. That the Jingsha River turns out to be at the bottom of this hill. That hitching up your pants and crossing the Jingsha is definitely not an option. That there is no bridge and appear to be no ferries operating. That there are three men with a raft on the other side, and it's times like these you really wish you knew a phrase other than "hello" to get their attention. That they just waive you away, and keep waiving, until you realize they're pointing to the right. That you walk over many more hills not knowing toward where or what you are headed, with no bridges in sight, until you come upon a ferry station with a ferry. That there is no ferry operator. That there is a ferry on the other side, but no one there either. That you've now only got twenty minutes left until the only bus back to civilization leaves, and you don't even really know where that's supposed to be once you somehow cross this river and climb the steep hill on the other side. That staying up all night just to see the stupid moon rise is no longer feeling like the most brilliant thing you've ever done, and that although in the height of the magic and glory of the night before you knew that you and the Jingsha River were one, flowing through the spiral of time together in harmony, it damn sure doesn't feel like it right now, and you can't risk literally flowing down it just now. That your inner peace has gone to pieces and your chi is no longer so cheery, and you angrily thrash the sand with your bamboo stick and drop your bag and through angry teeth try in vain to remind yourself that everything's in its right place and there's no reason to worry and everything will happen the way it's supposed to, and then say "Ah hell!" and throw your stick down. That as soon as you let the anger out, you'll shrug and realize, well, there's nothing you can do about it, and something's got to happen eventually, even if you have to walk miles and miles back up this hill and down around the curve and look for a bridge there or something, or at worst camp out like you did last night, although that will suck considering you didn't sleep last night. That you surrender to the moment. That just then a patch of sunlight will come through the clouds as you remember that line from Joseph Campbell's description of the hero journey in The Power of Myth:

"One thing that comes out in myths is that at the bottom of the abyss is the voice of salvation. The black moment is the moment of the real message of transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light." (Campbell 37)



That, honestly, you really do remember that quote just as the sun comes through the clouds, because you re-read Joseph Campbell a zillion times before and during your journey, and heavily recommend his Pathways to Bliss and The Power of Myth to everyone. That, in hindsight, this moment doesn't rate as that "black" within the universal spectrum of moments, even within your own ego experience, but even so, it is a black moment with a message of transformation. That those two hikers you passed on the way and didn't think it was worth paying for a ride come around the corner just now and catch up to you expecting a ferry. That one of them speaks Mandarin, while the other one is a French guy who cheerily asks, "Is the ferry not running? Oh, I guess we might miss the bus. Oh well," without seeming to care at all. That the girl yells to newly appeared ferry operators on the other side, but does not appear to get through to them either. That you start internally despairing again while pretending to be cool on the outside, and that five minutes later the ferry comes and charges you more than they're supposed to, and that you really don't care about the extra dollar after all of that. That you have to climb that ridiculous hill on the other side. That the bus is about to pull away as you approach. That you get on and stretch out and ride for five minutes and then stop. That you wait for thirty minutes before they move you and the other hikers heading to Lijiang into a smaller minivan, where you repeatedly hit your head on the coat hanger handle above the window every time you hit a bump, which is often. That the Chinese tourists insist on opening the window as you ride behind Jade Dragon Snow Mountain at a much higher elevation than you were in the gorge. That, upon returning to modern civilization, you notice that a long-haired man returning from the mountains with a large bamboo walking stick is not as routine a spectacle as you had naively assumed.

That when you get back to the hostel, you check your e-mail and find a forwarded poem from Mark Palinski. That you wrote your last weblog about how the untimely death of his son inspired you to travel abroad for the first time in your life, five years before, and how you owed it to him to keep having adventures because you were alive and you could and somebody has to do these things. That the poem is Vigil by Dennis O'Driscoll, and is about not sleeping:


Life is too short to sleep through.
Stay up late, wait until the sea of traffic ebbs,
until noise has drained from the world
like blood from the cheeks of the full moon.

You spot the crack in night's façade
even before the red-eyed businessman
on look-out from his transatlantic seat.
You are the only reliable witness to when
the light is separated from the darkness,
who has learned to see the dark in its true
colours, who has not squandered your life.

That you will sleep thirteen hours that night. That the next day your new German dorm roommate will comment that you have "a look of extreme contentment and satisfaction about you."


15. That the reason everyone has giggled so far when you've told them your name is because the sound “Ben” means “stupid” in Chinese. That reading War & Peace while learning this piece of information will make you feel slightly better about it. That this relief is temporary, because any time you try to get from A to B or eat with chopsticks, you will once again feel "ben".


16. That Shangri-La is cold, lying at an elevation of 3,000 meters. That it's only a four hour bus ride from touristy Lijiang. That you can find a guest house outside of town that will pick you up from the bus station for free, even if you call upon arrival at the bus station.



That it's located down a hill from this enormous mountain.



That it costs $30 to ride a chairlift to the top of the mountain, and nobody really hikes it, and you'd have to pay a guide a lot of money in advance to walk up it.



That if you play eenie-meenie-minie-mo with a pictureless Mandarin menu after riding your bike several miles from your hostel into town because you missed breakfast (big surprise) and they won’t be serving food again for eight hours, the odds are 50/50 that a Chinese woman who speaks a little English will come bail you out and tell you to order a delicious beef meal. That it turns out your eenie-meenie Ouiji spell channeled a local mushroom dish that sounded mysterious, but now you’ll never know.

That the 50% of the time you don’t get bailed out, the food will still probably be delectable, although the surprise may be somewhat diminished when you realize it’s the exact same thing you had for lunch at a different restaurant. That Chinese people don’t drink liquids during their meals, and that they consider an enormous soup to be a suitable substitute for water.

That Chinese people take meal time seriously, setting aside all other cares and worries, refusing to discuss politics or potentially divisive issues while they appreciate the gift of consuming and converting new energy into their beings. That they communally share the food, picking at each bowl set in the middle of the table with their chopsticks. That you get an intricate variety of dishes this way.

That eating alone happens very often when you travel alone, and that you notice it a whole lot more when you're in a land where it’s so customary to eat in a large group.


17. That Shangri-La is the closest you can get to Tibetan culture without paying for the extra permit, plane ticket and necessary guide to visit the actual province of Tibet. That the people of Shangri-La are mostly Tibetan in origin anyway. That there is a Tibetan village right nearby your guest house. That Tibetans have huge houses.








18. That Tibetan village kids can dribble basketballs very well.










19. That the town of Shangri-La doesn’t really conjure up the same feelings as the title, but standing atop a 12,000 foot mountain overlooking a mountain chain on the border of Tibet certainly does. That you should hold onto your hat, because it's windy at the top. That riding your bike down from the entrance is a brilliant idea.




















20. That it’s normal for Chinese people to hock loogies anywhere, in public or out a bus window. That they are very loud hocks.


21. That Chinese drivers are just as aggressive and crazy as Indian and Vietnamese drivers. That the bus drivers will pass on steep cliff roads around blind curves and simply honk their horns repeatedly as a warning to any possible oncoming drivers. That somehow the lane always has just enough room to accommodate both vehicles, so long as the approaching vehicle pulls off to the right. That you're not really fazed by this after India and Vietnam. That you would still go back anyway.




22. That Lugu Hu on the border of Sichuan and Yunnan provinces has some of the bluest and cleanest waters you’ll ever see in your life.



That this is mainly the result of not letting people have any fun in or on the water, making several days waiting around the shore a little boring, even for such a site-inspired seeker as yourself. That if you're near a lake with such beauty, you'll nearly go insane thinking about how phenomenal it would be to rent a kayak or canoe and go out on your own. That you suppose this is okay, because you know a place back home where this shouldn't be a problem. That at least there is one group boat ride included as part of your bus ticket when you arrive, which happens to be the only sunny day with no rain during the five days you stay there.









That intermittent rain and cold weather combined with thinking about that lake you love back home in upstate New York has started making you homesick for your family and friends. That you realize you've been on the road for five and a half months, on the other side of the magic spin ball, where everything is different and no one speaks the same language (and the languages keep CHANGING), and you still have six weeks to go before seeing a familiar face. That although you realize it's totally fortuitous and you have nothing but gratitude for the galactic grace that has brought you to every space you've occupied on this journey, doing it alone for so long is inevitably going to make you miss laughing with your friends or hugging your parents. That you'll snap out of this once you simply move on to the next adventure.





23. That reading the Lonely Planet: China history section is a good way to brush up on the area where you currently exist. That this place has undergone more transfers of power and brutal internal oppression than any other country. That artists were brutally oppressed and censored during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960's and 1970's. That you are very grateful to be able to express yourself freely and artistically as much as you have throughout your life. That is, with the notorious exception of having your sub-Salutatorian speech being banned by your high school principal [the actual salutatorian graciously shared her time and offered to read speeches by #3 and #4 in the class; that is, after the principal banned you from accepting her initial offer of letting you speak, because it had "never been done before". That if nobody ever did things that were never done before, the universe wouldn't even exist. That you're clearly still kind of bitter about this.]


24. That the same day you read about the brutal oppression of the Cultural Revolution, you meet a middle-aged man who actually enjoyed the Cultural Revolution. That this man is in his 50’s and took an interest in you because he noticed you reading War & Peace. That Russian novels were the only foreign literature available to youths such as him during the Cultural Revolution. That they didn't have to go to school, because their parents were in "re-education" camps. That this man said the Cultural Revolution was fun because you didn’t have to go to school or obey any rules. That, come to think of it, you probably would have felt similarly had you grown up without having to go to school or obeying rules. That you'd probably really miss your parents though. That “If you were angry at a guy, you could hit him. Now they’ll throw you in jail”. That he worked as a high-ranking official in the Communist Party, Bank of China and Foreign Ministry, serving in New York, Israel and West Africa. That he was retired and didn’t care about being censored anymore, so he opened up to you, something you had been told was extremely rare. That Vietnamese people will happily discuss communism with you, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a Chinese citizen willing to risk opening up on the subject. That he hated working in the Bank of China because people were always trying to bribe him. That he was happy he was abroad during the Tiananmen Square massacre because he likely would have been involved in the demonstrations. That he now enjoys reading ultra-liberal Americans like Noam Chomsky and drinking lots of tea. That he keeps a blog too, and had posted something the government didn't like. That he removed it because he didn't want to make things hard on his government, not because he feared them. That even if he didn't agree with them, he knew firsthand that it wasn't easy to govern such a diverse place with such a turbulent history as China, let alone a billion people. That he kindly shares all of this with you over many cups of delicious tea.

That he believes in God even though he was a member of the Communist Party and he technically isn't allowed to. That no one can force you to believe or to not believe something, and can only force you to say you believe in something. That he believes in God because the perfect adaptive existence of the human being is too perfect not to be entangled with some divine intelligence. That this isn't a Christian or Muslim thing, but a GOD thing. That although his English is exceptional from his time spent in the States, you understand that it can't be easy to express such deep convictions and opinions in a foreign language. That if someone asks you to formulate your opinions about life, the universe, and everything in Chinese, the best you could do is "hello" and "thank you".

That now that you think about it, that's exactly what you believe with respect to life, the universe and everything.


25. That Chinese people aren't as well versed in the Wu-Tang Clan as you might expect.

That in many areas of China, people do not have any conception of the idea of a waiting line, making most attempts to buy a bus ticket or food a chaotic free-for-all. That sometimes, even if there is an orderly line, say at a grocery store check-out, someone behind you will throw their goods on the counter and hand the clerk money even though you're currently in the process of extending your arm out to pay for your goods. That you already know that getting angry won't solve anything here, for it is worse to "lose face" in Asian countries than to be wronged. That listening to Wu-Tang Clan tracks with opening dialogues sampled from old Kung Fu movies can be very helpful in this respect:

"Today I'll talk about kindness. Justice, faith, and kindness. I want you to listen carefully. Kindness and faith, are the foundation. Without them, we can't become good people. And with justice, we know we can lead a good life."
"And how can I be a good man then, eh?"
"Huh... well, first of all, you have to practice honesty. Keep your temper, never lose control of yourself. Be patient. If you learn to do these things, you can master anything." (from the song Campfire)


26. That if you have long blond/red hair and a red beard, Chinese people will exclaim, "Jesus!" upon seeing you, even though Jesus of Nazareth probably had brown hair, less freakishly pale skin, and a lesser enthusiasm for the Wu-Tang Clan. That when you meet proselytizing Christians who are in China for either travel or missionary purposes, your resemblance to Jesus does not come up, but your failure to accept him as your personal savior sometimes does. That this is fine, because when it happened in India, it was even stranger to be told that you’re on the wrong path because you haven’t accepted as your savior the same person whom they told you you resemble (ever see Office Space where the character named Michael Bolton has to pretend to like Michael Bolton to keep his job?). That your personal philosophy can synch up with over 90% of what Christians believe about love and faith and kindness, but you’re still probably going to fail their test because you don’t agree with Christ’s proclamation of “I am the way and the light”, because it reminds you too much of Kanye West saying, “I am the brightest star in the galaxy”. That you're not denying the talent of either, just that there are a lot of really bright stars in the galaxy, and billions of galaxies at that.

[Side-preach: We’re all the way and the light. The universe is big and creative, with love pulsing through every supernova, Higgs boson, slab of concrete and pair of feet in existence. God’s imagination is bigger than one guy who died a long time ago. Be your own messiah. Save yourself.]

That many of these Christians have beautiful hearts and commit acts of love across the world without any ulterior motives. That some of them respect what your different experience has taught you to believe, and might not even bring up the topic (if they are reading this via a Facebook link because you enjoyed their company enough to become their Facebook friend, then you want them to know that you are not complaining about them, that you thoroughly enjoyed your conversations and that you had an amazingly large number of such occurrences). That others think that it matters whether or not experience has taught you to believe the same thing, because “there can only be one answer.” That the one of you who is happy regardless of whether or not you have the same answer is the one who is probably closer to the answer, even though there is no “answer”; only how you learn to dance in front of a question mark.

That to any proselytizer you come upon in the future who feels the need to impose their view of reality on you, whether they be Christian, Muslim, Hindu or crusading atheist, you will counter-proselytize in favor of poetic living with one of your many many favorite prophets, Walt Whitman:

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,
Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.

Why should I wish to see god better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name,

And I leave them where they are, for I know that
Others will punctually come for ever and ever. (Whitman 121)


27. That yaks are pretty cool up close. That yak meat tastes interesting.




28. That China has its own self-contained movie industry with superstars and well-known directors, mostly based in Hong Kong, and that even though you’ve never heard of any of them, Chinese people expect you to. That it makes sense for a country with a billion people to have their own film industry and celebrities. That China rivals your own country in many important and influential respects, and it is strange that you are so ignorant of a culture which consists of 1/6 of the human population of the magic spin ball. That your country exports its culture everywhere you've been so far, including China, for better or worse. That you’re not necessarily proud that your country is known for this influence, and not necessarily ashamed either. Your country gives the world bad junk food and dull-minded reality television, but it also exports Jimi Hendrix, and The Simpsons.


29. That there are over a dozen Chinese cities you've never heard of with several million people living in them. That one of them is Chengdu, which is an all-right place to wait over a week for your visa extension. That, despite what you've read in your guidebook, the extension fee is the same as the initial visa fee, meaning you're basically just paying for another one month visa, which wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the American price of $130. That everyone else gets charged $30-50. That you wish your country would stop setting this standard and charging everyone who wants to visit $130. That the week long visit is actually an enjoyable respite from the road if you’re staying at Mix Hostel and enjoy the stationary perspective of watching all the other travelers pass through.



That many exceptional, interesting and talented human beings from all over the world also find enthusiasm by exploring the foreign and unknown.



That you continue to repeatedly cross paths with fellow travelers, most notably two younger Southern guys whom you met the first night in Tiger Leaping Gorge. That you returned to your dorm room one evening to find them and several other Americans staying in the exact same room, over three weeks since you last crossed paths. That prejudices and misconceptions about your own country can be remedied while traveling on the opposite side of the world, such as the foolish assumption that Southerners didn't have as much an interest in broader global view. That this group of Americans turns out to be a Christian group that has been doing work in Thailand, but is currently exploring China. That this isn't their first trip to Asia, and they have friends all over the area. That faith and beliefs did not come up the first night you hung out in Tiger Leaping Gorge. That they will graciously take you out to one of the best meals you've had since you got to China, especially since you're used to eating alone and can't take advantage of a wide array of dishes. That on the way back you were thinking, "This is great! They haven't even given me the pitch yet," and as soon as you think that, one of the new Americans asks you what you believe. You tell them, and he brings up why he is a Mennonite, and although the others chime in because it's an open discussion, it kind of turns into a one-on-one debate, even though you're only arguing in favor of your right to believe in what your experience with life has taught you to, and that it's okay if you have different answers. That this guy's favorite movie is Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, written by Douglas Adams, a staunch atheist. That you honestly think it's great that whatever experience has taught them to believe has brought them to foreign lands where they both expand their world view and selflessly give back to the cultures they're visiting. That the discussion ends amiably, but you're worried about the one guy who just wouldn't let it go. If he can't be happy that not everyone in the world believes the same thing he does, he's never going to be happy.

That the time really flies if you’re complementing these stimulating discussions by reading War & Peace.


30. That War & Peace lives up to its reputation, and was certainly worth the devotion of time from your own experience: “Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God.” (Tolstoy 775)


31. That they do in fact sell books in the English-language in Chinese cities, so it was unnecessary to buy that copy of War & Peace back in Vietnam so you would have something to read for seven weeks. That according to Leo Tolstoy, you didn’t really have a choice in the matter:

There is, and can be, no cause of an historical event except the one cause of all causes. But there are laws directing events, and some of these laws are known to us while we are conscious of others we cannot comprehend. (Tolstoy 777)

‘It is true that we are not conscious of our dependence, but by admitting our freewill we arrive at absurdity, while by admitting our dependence on the external world, on time, and on cause, we arrive at laws.’ (Tolstoy 958)

Then again:

If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the possibility of life is destroyed. (Tolstoy 890)


32. That if you make dumplings at a hostel social event and accidentally and excitedly stumble upon a dolphin design, not only will you soon discover that there are a dozen other dolphins/porpoises/manatees/dugongs, but that yours will be the ugliest. That they will all look ugly after the oven is through with them. That they will all be delicious.

That you will reflect upon being fifteen years old and sitting in a Dim Sum Restaurant in Boston with your family and family friends, and being so grossed out by the offered food that you wanted to dig a hole in embarrassment, and holding out for McDonald’s fast food afterwards. That you will smile now to think of how you haven’t been to a Mickie D’s in years, but these dumplings are divine. That, speaking of expanding food palettes, Sichuan hot pot is a must-do experience. That the mushrooms are the best, but the goose intestines also have their charm.


33. That Chinese hostels are incredibly cheap, serve decent food and might even have a curtain on your bed. That if you’re willing to sleep in a dorm, you should be paying between $2-6 per night.




34. That if you’re online in China, using gchat or whatnot, you should avoid the three T’s which Chinese governmental internet technology can detect: Tibet, Taiwan and Tiananmen. That someone you met who had traveled to Tibet told of seeing teenage Tibetan monks in an internet café playing Counter-Strike religiously. That your freshman year roommate did the same thing and nearly drove you insane with the constant barrage of explosions and gunfire, and that this really softens any desire to brave the hassles of Chinese security and see this supposedly spiritually elevated holy land. That you don’t hold this against the Dalai Lama at all. That you do hold it against him for not actually being a llama, let alone the lovechild of Dolly Parton and a llama.


35. That according to one American school teacher, his Chinese students didn’t even know what happened at Tiananmen Square in 1989, only that something did happen, and they wanted to know what it was. That maybe there’s something your country did that is so horrible and well-covered up that it’s best not to think about it. That there's no maybe about it. That this is also a mathematical certainty for just about every powerful nation in the history of the magic spin ball, and you can’t dwell on hell too much or you'll miss all the heaven right in front of you. That the best you can do is make the present a heaven and refrain from causing hell in the NOW. That the best way to do this has a little something to do with that That Art Thou jingle you learned earlier.


36. That it’s popular for young Chinese students to claim that if they ruled the country they would start a war with Japan. That Japan did horrible things to Chinese people during World War II. That your country did horrible things to Japan during World War II. That China has done horrible things to its own people. That pretty much every country on Earth has done something horrible to people. That you yourself may not have massacred anyone and hopefully never will, but then again, the source of circumstance has never forced you into a tough situation with no clear right answer or a "it's him or you" deal. That you have done bad things to other people in your life, mixed in with all the good things you've done. That sometimes doing bad things helps you learn how to do good things. That this is sort of what Taoism is about. That you'll get to that later on.


37. That that guy who isn't the love child of Dolly Parton and a llama still has some valuable insight on the above topic:

"If we take revenge upon our enemy, then it creates a kind of a vicious cycle. If you retaliate, the other person is not going to accept that--he or she is going to retaliate against you, and then you will do the same, and so it will go on. And especially when this happens at the community level, it can go on from generation to generation. The result is that both sides suffer. Then, the whole purpose of life becomes spoiled...Now, some people consider that strong hatred is good for national interest. I think this is very negative. It is very short-sighted. Counteracting this way of thinking is the basis of the spirit of non-violence and understanding." (Cutler 147)

That he knows a thing or two about not taking revenge upon your enemies. As described by Howard Cutler in The Art of Happiness, HH Dalai Lama is:

"A man who has lived in exile for almost four decades while an entire nation placed their hopes and dreams of freedom on him. A man with a deep sense of personal responsibility, who has listened with compassion to a continuous stream of refugees pouring out their stories of murder, rape, torture, and degradation of the Tibetan people by the Chinese." (Cutler 153)


38. That Emei Shan is the highest of the four holy Buddhist mountains in China, and exists only a two hour bus ride from Chengdu. That it contains zillions of steps to the Golden Summit at the top (over 9,000 feet; 3,077 meters).











That Emei Shan was a Taoist mountain before it was a Buddhist mountain. That Buddhism began in India and spread to China, but Taoism began in China. That Buddhism processed through Taoism creates Zen Buddhism. That you remember playing pogs in fifth grade and having that Tao slammer that always won. That you wonder if Chinese kids ever get to learn the brilliance of pogs. That you wish you had some right now. That Huston Smith has the following to say about Taoism:



Another feature of Taoism is its notion of the relativity of all values and, as its correlative, the identity of opposites. Here Taoism tied in with the traditional Chinese yin/yang symbol, which is pictured thus:



This polarity sums up all of life’s basic oppositions: good/evil, active/passive, positive/negative, light/dark, summer/winter, male/female. But though the halves are in tension, they are not flatly opposed; they complement and balance each other. Each invades the other’s hemisphere and takes up its abode in the deepest recess of its partner’s domain. And in the end both find themselves resolved by the circle that surrounds them, the Tao in its eternal wholeness. In the context of that wholeness, the opposites appear as no more than phases in an endless cycling process, for each turns incessantly into its opposite, exchanging places with it. Life does not move onward and upward toward a fixed pinnacle or pole. It bends back upon itself to come, full circle, to the realization that all is one and all is well. (Smith 214)



That you can pay to sleep in monasteries while hiking up certain Chinese holy mountains, whether Buddhist or Taoist.





That some monasteries on the Buddhist mountain sort of understand the spirit of the Buddha, insofar as they help their fellow man get some shelter from the rain and cold. That is, so long as you have money and are willing to fill out the most paperwork for an accommodation since you entered China.





That others do not realize that the Buddha is everywhere and deny foreigners a stay because they are not Chinese. That the Buddha himself was Indian. That just because someone is a monk doesn't mean they're not a jerk. That just because someone is a jerk doesn't mean they don't contain the Buddha.




39. That some people have jobs requiring them to carry loads on their backs that make you feel ashamed for ever complaining about work. That you will still probably complain about lame, boring or frustrating work, no matter how many relative comparisons the universe gives to you.






40. That some Chinese tourists will annoy you by taking a bus/chairlift to the summit of a holy mountain which you just spent two days ascending on foot. That you will then remember the old woman with a cane you saw descending the stairs of the 9,000 foot mountain, taking tiny sidesteps, one at a time, and smile.



That if any of these Chinese people have jobs anywhere nearly as boring or straining as that guy who carries twelve chairs at a time, you will be filled with happiness to know they still have the energy and inclination to see the top of a mountain, whatever their means of doing so.




41. That copying sections from Pirsig’s Zen and re-reading them helps you experience much higher levels of bliss while undergoing the otherwise excruciating ordeal of climbing up 9,000 feet of stairs, in the rain, wind and cold, without an umbrella:

“To the untrained eye ego-climbing and selfless climbing may appear identical. Both kinds of climbers place one foot in front of the other. Both breathe in and out at the same rate. Both stop when tired. Both go forward when rested. But what a difference! The ego-climber is like an instrument that's out of adjustment. He puts his foot down an instant too soon or too late. He's likely to miss a beautiful passage of sunlight through the trees.



He goes on when the sloppiness of his step shows he's tired. He rests at odd times. He looks up the trail trying to see what's ahead even when he knows what's ahead because he just looked a second before.



He goes too fast or too slow for the conditions when he talks his talk is forever about somewhere else, something else. He's here but he's not here. He rejects the here, is unhappy with it, wants to be farther up the trail but when he gets there will be just as unhappy because then it will be "here."





What he's looking for, what he wants, is all around him, but he doesn't want that because it is all around him. Every step's an effort, both physically and spiritually, because he imagines his goal to be external and distant.” (Pirsig 189)








42. That Chinese university students can be extremely friendly, and might just invite you to climb the remaining 5,000 feet of the mountain with them, claiming they would be "honored".





That after two days of staying in monasteries and guest houses, hiking up 3000 feet, down 2500 feet, back up 8500 feet and across 26 miles, the Golden Summit at the top is well worth it, albeit initially somewhat cold and cloudy with mostly obscured views of the surrounding area. That this Golden Summit is aptly named, because there is a giant golden statue of the Buddha at the top.



That according to this statue’s depiction of him, the Buddha supposedly had ten heads/faces and could simultaneously ride on four elephants at the same time. That no wonder he felt enlightened, since you would feel that way if you had ten faces. Then again, maybe you don't want to be enlightened, since you're not sure you can handle taking care of so many faces. That maybe enlightenment has something to do with not caring so much about your face. That maybe you do have ten faces, and the other nine are on the back of your head and you can't see them, and people just photo-shop them out of pictures they take of you because they don't want to freak you out. That you're okay with this possibility. That if the Buddha can handle it, and the Buddha is everywhere, then you can handle it.






43. That the weather and cloud cover changes dramatically every twenty minutes at the top of this mountain. That sometimes it's sunny and golden, and then ten minutes later you can't see ten feet in front of you.




















44. That the main reason you are hanging out at the summit for three days (just like in Tiger Leaping Gorge) is that you think it would be ridiculously romantic to get a glimpse of the full moon from atop a holy Chinese mountain, and to see the sea of clouds below you illuminated by the magical lunar light. That this has something to do with the Grandmother Moon stuff you cited earlier, but also relates to your favorite writing hero of all time. That this man is your fellow Red Beard, Tom Robbins. That you learned a couple years ago while reading Still Life With Woodpecker that celebrating the moon is akin to celebrating romance and love:



Since the fellow was tuned in, and responding beautifully, thank you, the Red Beards also had him work into the design a naked woman, representative of the Moon Goddess, the Great Mother, the feminine principal of creation, growth, change and renewal. The Moon Goddess is the oldest recorded and most universally common deity, and it was only fitting that her abiding fertility make its presence felt in the desert on the pack. It was the Moon Mother, perhaps, who was behind the regenerative power of the pyramids. She symbolized that power, certainly. In order not to spoil the composition, she was rendered most subtly on the package, hidden in the yellow and brown coloration in the left forequarter of the dromedary. That was apropos, for this Queen of Love, this giver of fantasies and dreams, this Shepherdess of the Stars, this healer and nurturer of all life had always made herself manifest in subtle and mysterious ways. (Robbins 189)

That you've got nothing better to do, and you're single, so why not pray to the Queen of Love for a little romance? Maybe some true love. You hear that's the best. But wait a minute, what exactly is true love anyway? Is it two people meeting each other and sharing experience for the rest of their life? That's gotta be one version. But that seems too based on chance and circumstance...Maybe it has more to do with being true to yourself, or as Popa Wu of the Wu-Tang Clan would say, "Keep it real with reality." Then whatever love you give to the world is true love. That settles it. Moon prayer: how about a fun woman some time soon, and you can enjoy the NOW together? Any leads?

Well, either way, you hope the moon is shiny.

That you won't be able to see the full moon your first night at the top, because it's pouring rain, so you have to pay a little extra for a decent hotel closer to the summit than the guest house where you stayed (elev. 2700 meters) the night before. That you won't be able to see the moon the next night either, because it's pouring again. That this is all an interesting, patience-developing and hugely rewarding exercise in dedication to myths and principles. That you will meet many friendly Chinese people during your three days at the top. That the one's you can't speak to will still communicate to you via smiles and points at your bamboo stick.






45. That if you’re hiding out at sundown so you can hang out at the summit under cover of night and do a moon stake-out until morning, it really is more poetic if you don’t get a crystal clear view, even though you see a few stars at the start, and while waiting for the moon to rise you stare at the the lonely faraway lights of the village below where you began your hike on foot several days ago, and they only serve as a reminder of both your isolation and triumph at the top of the world,











and during this staring session, whilst listening to one of the most powerful and daringly dramatic rock instrumentals in four dimensions (and probably more), Storm by Godspeed You! Black Emperor (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynoMnQDy8Tk), this enormous wall of throbbing and pulsating clouds comes creeping up the mountain side and completely consumes you, and the spirits of synchronicity are in high gear as you see a tiny strip of red through a crack in the clouds as the instrumental "Amazing Grace" section of the same song comes on (skip to minute 6 for this part), and then it of course starts to rain, and then it starts to pour, and you have to hide under the temple roof to stay out of the rain for an hour, and duck behind pillars to avoid the flashlight of the monk who you initially thought was a security guard, and wear all of your layers of clothing because you didn’t pack a winter coat and lost your hat from the Himalaya after staying up all night in Tiger Leaping Gorge the month before, and the thousands of candles surrounding the base of the great statue symbolizing inner peace and enlightenment will be enough to entertain you during the downpour, and you just happen to be listening to Hey Jude as you notice the faint mysterious glow shining through the mist above, and you start dancing in the magical moonlight with your pack on your back and your bamboo stick in your grip, and pumping up and down and wildly leading the cosmic choir in a triumphant chorus of exaltation: "NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, HEY JUDE!" because love IS real and it’s so good to be alive.

That the Buddha’s idea of enlightenment through “freedom from suffering and opposites” may be all well and good for some fraction of the universal experience, but the universal being also needs that passion and suffering to propel some humans, like you, to carry the collective unconscious to the top of that Magic Mountain known as Joy.



That to pass part of the time while waiting for the rain to stop, you get out that packet of pages containing all the best wisdom you've come across in the past three years since you entered the "real world". That Carl Jung seems pretty appropriate as long as you're sitting near the candlelit ten-faced Buddha:


In India I was principally concerned with the question of the psychological nature of evil. I had been very much impressed by the way this problem is integrated in Indian spiritual life, and I saw it in a new light. In a conversation with a cultivated Chinese I was also impressed, again and again, by the fact that these people are able to integrate so-called “evil” without “losing face.” In the West we cannot do this. For the Oriental the problem of morality does not appear to take first place, as it does for us. To the Oriental, good and evil are meaningfully contained in nature, and are merely varying degrees of the same thing.



The Indian’s goal is not moral perfection, but the condition of nirdvandva. He wishes to free himself from nature; in keeping with this aim, he seeks in meditation the condition of imagelessness and emptiness. I, on the other hand, wish to persist in the state of lively contemplation of nature and of the psychic images. I want to be freed neither from human beings, nor from myself, nor from nature; for all these appear to me the greatest of miracles. Nature, the psyche, and life appear to me like divinity unfolded—and what more could I wish for? To me the supreme meaning of Being can consist only in the fact that it is, not that it is not or is no longer. (Jung 275)



That climbing over the railing separating you from a four-foot slab of rock that sits on the edge of a 9,000 foot cliff while listening to 2 Rights Make 1 Wrong by Mogwai is a damn good recipe for enthusiasm (being filled with the Godhead; being one with God) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqh1S87pwlQ), and that it feels like an enormous magnet wants to suck you over the edge while the wind blows against your being, but if you somehow conjure up the courage to pry your petrified arms from the railing behind you and sit in the lotus position without fear, you will know TRUE ECSTASY..especially if the next song turns out to be Stairway to Heaven, which is especially invigorating considering you just climbed a literal stairway to heaven. That this is what that American English professor meant that starlit night in the jungles of Cambodia, when he told you to "keep reading and writing. And keep living poetically."











That this energy boost can keep you going until sunrise, which is disappointingly nonexistent, but still unique and worthwhile.



That this Czech guy you met the day before recognizes you and starts chatting, and you want to brag about everything that just happened to you, but you know he won't understand so you simply smile. That you have an excuse to take the bus back down the mountain the next morning, having already hiked down 1,500 feet of sleepless steps, but only if you stay up at the summit all night through a cloudy sunrise praying to Grandmother Moon, the Queen of Love. Otherwise you should be following that old Chinese woman's lead, the one with the cane that you passed on the way up. That you wish the tourists wouldn’t give the Macau monkeys junk food.









That you can make it back to the hostel in Chengdu the same day. That you will sleep a lot that night.


46. That one of your greatest predecessors in your chosen pursuit, Leo Tolstoy, wouldn’t think you're crazy:

‘I may have appeared strange and queer then,’ he thought, ‘but I was not so mad as I seemed. On the contrary, I was then wiser and had more insight than at any other time, and understood all that is worth understanding in life, because…because I was happy.’ (Tolstoy 886)



That neither would Robert Pirsig, the guy who wrote the most popular book in America asking the question "What's it all about?", saying

“Romantic reality is the cutting edge of experience. It's the leading edge of the train of knowledge that keeps the whole train on the track.” (Pirsig 254)

That you encourage all of your readers to live poetically. Not because it's honorable or deep or anything pretentious like that, but because it's fun. If it's filling you with enthusiasm, that is, if you feel one with God, then you're probably on the right track. That you shouldn't worry, you don't actually have to read or like poetry to live poetically. But it definitely helps.


47. That anything by the name of “Sichuan chicken” is hard to come across in the actual province of Sichuan. That the one place you found serving “Sichuan chicken” didn't make it as tasty as the Szechuan chicken stir-fry you learned to cook at home before you left. That this is probably because of the store-bought sauce you used at home. That besides the above exception, pretty much all food you come across in China is much much much tastier, more diverse and perhaps even healthier than what you've experienced back home.


48. That even though it has more people, China is not nearly as crowded as India, because it has so much more space. That, even so, train stations are still very crowded.




49. That overnight sleeper-class train rides in China are slightly more expensive but infinitely more comfortable than Indian train rides. That you sort of miss the downscale nature of the Indian trains because you could actually open the windows and feel the air rush through the carriage and feel connected to the landscape flying by, instead of perceiving them through a glass barrier, as if they were mere images on yet another screen.


50. That, at least in your limited opinion, seeing a few Terracotta warriors while walking atop the entire length of the city walls of Xi’an is good enough, and satisfies the touristy obligation of paying time and money to go see an army of them further outside the city.











That the written language isn't the only part of China that doesn't quite make sense to you.






51. That Rage Against the Machine’s self-titled album makes a good soundtrack while hanging out in Tiananmen Square. That however tempting it is to stage a photo wearing your red bandana and sticking your hand out signaling stop to a parked concession van may be, it probably wouldn’t be as funny to the dozens of armed policeman patrolling the area as it would be to you, and that you’ve only got three days left in China so you better not do an experiment concerning their sense of humor.






52. That the Great Wall of China is pretty great, but not Tiger Leaping Gorge great.





That the universe is the supreme architect, while man is its secondary medium for beauty. That humans can look upon something like the Great Wall and be wowed into awe at their own imagination and functionality as creators, but that something all humans can admit existed before they did shaped the beauty of Tiger Leaping Gorge long before any humans were even around to see it. That this same cause shaped humans, and therefore shaped the Great Wall through them. So it’s all the same source anyway.



That whatever pathetic limited words and concepts anyone tries to use to convey and capture this infinite source, they will fall short, so you should never confuse someone proclaiming awe and love for this source as equal to someone manipulating this source in an attempt to limit your life and your love. That French Iehovah’s witnesses might meet you in such a place of pre-human beauty and try to employ it as evidence of a “Creator”, which is a pointless piece of speculation. That unless you agree, you should either say "no" or “Who knows? Who cares? It’s beautiful either way, you’re confusing things too much,” or they will manipulate what you say as a tool for explaining why their belief system should predominate as a guide for how all other experiences should conduct themselves. That the source that shaped the gorge shaped all human experience too, so why get all obsessed with should’s and shouldn’ts? That the source shaped all those “shoulds and shouldn’t”-ers too, so you shouldn’t get bothered by that either. That if you were Mongolian, you’d only be more tempted to invade China if they taunted you with a wall like this.








53. That China is experiencing some of the worst pollution problems in the world, and that Beijing may some day soon be consumed by desert from the north.





54. That China, like any country, connotes both a land and a people. That the errors of the people should not interfere with your enjoyment of the land.

That the people of China are both a people and a government. That what the government does should not interfere with your perception of the humanity of the people. That if you are American and ever travel abroad, you will certainly hope this same sentiment is extended to you. That it probably will be, because most humans are smart enough to see that. Be one of them.













That most other well-traveled people agree that overall, most human beings are good. That Chinese people, especially the previous generation, have endured horrors you hopefully will never fathom. That the source shaped all of these too, as it did you.




































55. That it’s much harder to travel in China than India with respect to language and understanding, but much easier with respect to comfort. That, in your case, the latter trumps the former and makes it infinitely easier. That easier isn’t necessarily better, especially if growth is part of your journey. That you still experienced much growth in China despite this comfort.

That it’s the inner journey that counts, so even though roughing it or making it more challenging in whatever way can help lift you to your destination on that inner journey, it’s pretty irrelevant which circumstances lift you there...



...so long as you get lifted there.




56. That it's kind of weird to think about leaving Asia after over six months of transient residence.


57. That some people think a bamboo walking stick is cool, and that other people think it is strange. That if you cared what other people thought about your actions, you wouldn't enjoy the only life you're likely ever going to experience nearly as much as you do. That if anybody thinks you're weird, you can just tell them it's the Ganges water's fault. That, despite the above statement, it still makes you smile when Bambi the magic bamboo walking stick receives praise.


58. That as long as you're on this whole honesty and truth kick, you should probably confess that you first saw this style of excessive repetitive introductory "that"s wielded by the ingenious and immortal literary talent of your time, David Foster Wallace. The novel was Infinite Jest. It's the War & Peace of the modern age. That since you're already sampling from brilliant influences, you might as well sample from one of the brightest. From his commencement speech entitled This is Water:

None of this is about morality, or religion, or dogma, or big fancy questions of life after death.

The capital-T Truth is about life before death.

It is about the real value of a real education, which has nothing to do with grades or degrees and everything to do with simple awareness--awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:

"This is water."

"This is water."

"These [hikers] might be much more than they seem." (Wallace 128)


59. That since you've been discussing climbing holy mountains and referencing The Simpsons, it's probably time to reveal the origin of your blog's title to anyone still in the dark. That it comes from the episode Homer and Apu where Homer Simpson follows recently fired local Kwik-E-Mart convenience store clerk Apu Nahasapeemapetilon to India to ask the head of the Kwik-E-Mart to give him his job back. That they hike up into the Himalaya Mountains on steep winding paths until they reach the top, which supports the world's first convenience store (Homer: "This isn't very convenient".) That the guru-like CEO of the Kwik-E-Mart is a spitting image of the Maharishi The Beatles used to follow around, and he tells Apu he can ask him three questions:



"That is great because I only have one," says Apu.
Homer interrupts. "Are you reallllllllllly the head of the Kwik-E-Mart?"
"Yes," says the head of the Kwik-E-Mart.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You?"
"Yes. I hope this has been enlightening for you. Thank you, and come again."
Then Apu says, "But I need to ask you for my job ba--"
"Thank you, come again."
That afterward, when they're walking outside, Homer says, "Well that was a waste of time. Is he realllllllly the head of the Kwik-E-Mart?"



That you were about to go hiking in the Himalaya on the border of India and Nepal when you got the bright idea to update your friends, family and loved one's on your adventures by creating a weblog as opposed to sending a Facebook message to all of them.





That you are very glad you did this, and very grateful for every audience member you have had or will ever have. That by reading this, YOU make MY dreams come true. Thank you.



As for your commitment of time in reading this, hopefully you are feeling more like that celestial smile in the sky and less like Apu right now.


60. That you finally think it's relevant to bring up that the random Tom Wolfe page (142) in that book about Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters also said the following:

For a long time I couldn’t understand the one Oriental practice the Pranksters liked, the throwing of the I Ching coins. The I Ching is an ancient Chinese text. The Book of Changes, it is called. It contains 64 oracular readings, all highly metaphorical. You ask the I Ching a question and throw three coins three times and come up with a hexagram and a number that points to one of the passages. It “answers” your question…yes; but the I Ching didn’t seem very Pranksterlike. I couldn’t fit it in with the Pranksters’ wired-up, American-flag-flying, Day-Glo electropastel surge down the great American superhighway. Yet—of course! The I Ching was supremely the book of Now, of the moment. For, as Jung said, the way the coins fall is inevitably tied up with the quality of the entire moment in which they fall, the entire pattern, and “form a part of it—a part that is insignificant to us, yet most meaningful to Chinese minds”…these things THAT ONLY LUCKY DOGS AND MERRY PRANKSTERS HEAR—and so many mysteries of the synch from that time on…




61. That Chung Fu means “Inner Truth”, and is the 61st hexagram in the I Ching, the ancient Chinese Book of Changes.

That you learned this from reading the Philip K. Dick book The Man in the High Castle back in 2008, three months after completing your first novel, one month after opening to that random Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test page about the I Ching and the Journey to the East, and fifteen years after writing your first book for a fourth grade class project.

That you named this book Chung Fu and the Three Oranges, and that you don’t know where you got the name “Chung Fu” other than the mysterious material inside your mind, which gets its material from that source which is the source of all sources. At best, you simply combined "China" with "Kung Fu".

That this discovery didn’t actually occur in China, but this is relevant because this treasure of wisdom was consistently experienced throughout your time there. That you were never able to find a version of the I Ching in a bookstore that actually included Chung Fu, but you finally looked it up on Google back in 'Nam [That you love being able to say that].

That you found out it is #61 in the I Ching, and its full definition is as follows:

Chung Fu is about communicating and cooperating effectively with those around you. To do this and be successful you will need to take the time to thoroughly understand their natures. Prejudice, preconceptions, or any other factor must be put aside or receptivity will be lessened. Once you thoroughly understand someone you can work on gaining their trust. Chung Fu warns though, that this needs to be for your mutual benefit and not just your benefit. Failure to heed this need for honesty and sincerity will mean that any progress achieved will be undone. **

That Chung Fu has the potential to be utilized by all humans, whether they are Chinese, American, Finnish or Bantu, whether sitting at a desk in a high-rise office building, living independently in the wild, or carrying twelve chairs down a mountain on their back. That this is mathematically true, because Chung Fu really just means the source of all sources speaking through you, which it has always done and will always do.



That you should probably find someone else to do the illustrating for you when you finally get around to writing your next book.


62. I do not say these things for a dollar or to fill up time while I wait for a boat,
(It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of you,
Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins to be loosen’d.) (Whitman 120)

That since you and I are one, on account of all that tat tvam asi business back from Tiger Leaping Gorge, it really is appropriate to use the second person.

That you are the universe.

That is, you are the one song story of love.

That IT is YOU.

That YOU ARE I AM.

That if you don't understand any of this, it's okay, because the universe definitely does.

And what did you just learn about the universe?

There is that in me – I do not know what it is – but I know It is in me. (Whitman 123)


63. That even though there have been many re-arrangements, subtractions and additions since the first draft of this thing, you just let the Chung Fu flow and ended with 63 numbers. That the I Ching has 64 oracular readings, so what the heck, let's do one more.











64.


That art thou


Xie xie*


* I have now successfully plugged the only two pieces of Mandarin I was able to remember during seven weeks of being in China.


Special thank you's to Leo Tolstoy, Robert M. Pirsig, Philip K. Dick, Joseph Campbell, the Wu-Tang Clan (specifically Raekwon, Ghostface Killah and the RZA), DJ Shadow, Tom Robbins, Huston Smith, Walt Whitman, the Dalai Lama, everyone involved in the making of The Simpsons, Tom Wolfe, Carl Jung, the Iroquois, Hermann Hesse, David Foster Wallace and the I Ching for pitching in. And of course, The Oracle.

**Chung Fu quote from: http://www.psychic-revelation.com/reference/i_l/i_ching/hexagram61.html


Works Cited:

Campbell, Joseph. The Power of Myth. Doubleday, New York: 1988.

Cutler, Howard C. and His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The Art of Happiness. Coronet Books, London: 1998.

Dick, Philip K. The Man in the High Castle. Literary Classics of the United States, Inc., New York: 2007.

DJ Shadow. "Building Steam With a Grain of Salt". ...Endtroducing. 1995.

DJ Shadow. "What Does Your Soul Look Like, Pt. 3 (live)". Live! In Tune & On Time. 1995.

Jung, C.G. Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Random House, Inc., New York: 1963. Recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffe. Translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston.

O'Driscoll, Dennis. "Vigil". New and Selected Poems. Anvil Press Poetry: 2004

Pirsig, Robert M. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Bantam Books, New York: 1984.

Raekwon. "Striving For Perfection". Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. 1995.

Robbins, Tom. Still Life With Woodpecker. Bantam Books, U.S.A.: 1980.

Smith, Huston. The World's Religions. HarperOne, New York: 1991.

Stokes, John and Kanawahienton, translation. Thanksgiving Address: Greetings to the Natural World. Ohen:ton Karihwatehkwen: Words Before All Else. Six Nations Indian Museum and The Tracking Project: 1993

Tolstoy, Leo. War & Peace. Wordsworth Limited Editions, London: 1993. Translated by Louise and Alymer Maude.

Wallace, David Foster. This is Water. Little, Brown & Company, New York: 2009.

Whitman, Walt. The Complete Poems. Penguin Books, New York: 2004.

Wolfe, Tom. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Bantam Books, New York: 1968.

Wu-Tang Clan. "Campfire". 8 Diagrams. 2007.