Balloon Bummer. Trying Buddhism

Sally and I seated ourselves quietly in the back row, each of us on a thin cushion. As we bent our knees to cross our legs, we were careful not to allow our feet to face the large Buddha in the front of the room. The monk at the podium chanted through a microphone, his nasal sIng-song voice filling the room with a soothing rhythm.  The women in the 20 or so rows in front of us responded by chanting or by shaking their heads. All of the women wore brown slacks, white blouses and brown shoulder sashes.  Sally and I wore our black stinky travel pants and quick dry shirts.  It wasn’t just our clothing that made us stand out.  

We were observers, not participants in this week-long meditation retreat at the Moe Goet Meditation Center in New Bagan, Myanmar. Besides, we are white girls. We had arrived at 7:00 a.m. for the two hour scavenge of visiting a meditation center and seeking instruction from a Zen master. 

We got a lucky break when we showed up unannounced. An older man, Ye, the leader, greeted us at the door and had a few minutes to explain before the all-Burmese session began.  Although raised in Burma, he had lived in Boston briefly and then returned to his country when it became known as Myanmar. He gave us a private crash course in Buddhism so that we would have some idea of what we would be back-benching. 

That was helpful. As I sat on the floor for two hours, periodically rearranging my creaky knees and thinking about the tenets of Buddhism, I looked at the chart in the front of the room. The circle in the middle is the place you put things that are bothering you. 

There was no question in my mind about how to fill that circle. The thing is, I thought I would be riding a hot air balloon ride over the Bagan that very morning. 

But, it turned out, it is the wrong season for ballooning. So, I took a page from Buddha’s book. I put the balloon ride into the Buddhist central circle. 

View of the plains of Bagan from a rooftop instead of a balloon; in the afternoon instead of dawn...but Ohmmmm

I intend to leave it there.  I probably won’t go back to Bagan. And I probably won’t ride in a balloon there, either. Ohmmmm....

Old Bagan Archeological Zone

Oh, and that two hours in the meditation center was a great balm for the sting of having my balloon popped. 

Another view of Bagan temples; this time from Aureum Palace hotel swimming pool. Which was amazing.