tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21777464152430643442024-03-13T09:08:47.585+05:30The Journey is Home "Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home." - Matsuo BashoKelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-37544914019159970912020-10-28T10:47:00.004+05:302020-10-28T11:16:38.289+05:30Giving and Receiving<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Sr6OR3oTHM/X5hTvG6odCI/AAAAAAAAV8Q/NIWnFwflvukgwHj52Edn4AvYU3pF5Ts5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_a229.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Sr6OR3oTHM/X5hTvG6odCI/AAAAAAAAV8Q/NIWnFwflvukgwHj52Edn4AvYU3pF5Ts5wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/fullsizeoutput_a229.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young nuns returning with wood, Chulichan, Ladakh</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(7 minute read)</div><div>Always, whatever I give is so little compared to what I receive. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5aD0FR0DNuk/X5eG0WlEV2I/AAAAAAAAV6s/xtX4eNxAMoEMd31IBemtEDIj3mPrKUTywCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1466.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Fall leaves, brilliant blue Indus River, Ladakh" border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5aD0FR0DNuk/X5eG0WlEV2I/AAAAAAAAV6s/xtX4eNxAMoEMd31IBemtEDIj3mPrKUTywCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC1466.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stupas Overlooking the Indus River at Saspol, Ladakh<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Another trip to Chulichan, Rizong Nunnery, the oldest Tibetan Buddhist nunnery in Ladakh, fills me with gratitude, each and every time.</div><div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtHq0-n_dCU/X5jpHCn3tRI/AAAAAAAAV-E/62bb-LQxTBcN7tO4UEJTaxbbT-ctoWEuACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201021_143243.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OtHq0-n_dCU/X5jpHCn3tRI/AAAAAAAAV-E/62bb-LQxTBcN7tO4UEJTaxbbT-ctoWEuACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/20201021_143243.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sewing resusable menstrual pads together<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div>During my last visit there, I was told how financially difficult it is to provide menstrual pads for the young nuns. Not only is it a continual cost not covered by the funds provided by the monastery for food, but there is also no way to dispose of them. They can’t be burned and to bury anything in Ladakh requires rigorous digging through rock. Upon returning home from that visit, I did some research and found an NGO in India that produces and supplies reusable pads to woman nationally and internationally <a href="https://ecofemme.org/" target="_blank">(Eco Femme)</a>. I purchased 75 pads, 45 pre-made and 30 sew-your-own pads, which is five pads for each menstruating female. After a long month of tracking the box from southern India (Pondicherry) to Chandigarh, to Srinagar, to Jammu, to Delhi and finally to Leh, a round about way to say the least, and this is through India’s “speed post”, the box finally arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wl4JpSup5fo/X5jqyCoeowI/AAAAAAAAV-Q/k4vZJzzNsmMWrizM7eGZepI_X9MVSEcLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1467.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wl4JpSup5fo/X5jqyCoeowI/AAAAAAAAV-Q/k4vZJzzNsmMWrizM7eGZepI_X9MVSEcLQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h424/_DSC1467.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The striking contrast of fall in Ladakh along the Indus River<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Before leaving my home, a friend asked me to drop a few plants to a home in a village along the way. As I approached this village two hours later, a woman was waiting on the road for me. I gave her the plants and she gifted me a bag of fresh large red apples from her home. I later shared half with the nuns and gave the other half to a monk friend I met on the way back. Give and receive, sharing always is the way of life here.</div></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Making the three hour trip to Chulichan (place of many apricots), stopping at times to capture the dramatic contrast of fall leaves against the brilliant blue Indus backed by the stark brown soil and rocks of the desert landscape, I arrived at my favorite place of peace and community. Welcomed by the young nuns, they immediately run down to great me and carry any and all goods up to the kitchen. </div><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Drying Bananas</h3><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-khw51ZwhCUs/X5jer-dOhSI/AAAAAAAAV84/Hu1gwLihhG8mITiXEUlxw-9FLAIT6EA3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_a239.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-khw51ZwhCUs/X5jer-dOhSI/AAAAAAAAV84/Hu1gwLihhG8mITiXEUlxw-9FLAIT6EA3wCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h265/fullsizeoutput_a239.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drying bananas for the long winter<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><img border="0" src="https://www.blogger.com/img/transparent.gif" />I brought a box of 100 bananas to dry for the winter, dried blueberries, cherries, raisins, and strawberries, a case of eggs, and our new pads. A group of the girls took the bananas and started peeling, cutting and laying out to dry. We have learned the simplest way is to cut the bananas in half and then cut each half in four long wedges. The peels were saved for me, laid out to dry, so that I could burn them and collect the ash to make soap later.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZ5t72nau3Q/X5juKgM4QmI/AAAAAAAAV-c/kLOnYE99JsElgIap5QjqIgfvHwvjg_p0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1072.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1673" data-original-width="2048" height="326" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZ5t72nau3Q/X5juKgM4QmI/AAAAAAAAV-c/kLOnYE99JsElgIap5QjqIgfvHwvjg_p0QCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h326/_DSC1072.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kunzes and her beloved dog Sentuk<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div>Kunzes, the head nun for the last 16 years, and I sat down to drink tea and reconnect. She is such a precious friend in my life. I can share anything with her and I am supported and loved. She understands me and speaks enough English for us to get by. I explained the process of making the pads and showed her the 10-minute instructional video that took me two days to download to my computer. We then brought in five of the older nuns. Sitting on the cushions, I shared the process of sewing-your-own, Kunzes translating, then showed them the video, pausing when needed for more explanation and translation. And we began. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Ktv7VXdpE/X5jgYC85YLI/AAAAAAAAV9E/4vYZvzPi7pIirqNwh9NpfZp2ZRZKR7GRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_a23b.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6Ktv7VXdpE/X5jgYC85YLI/AAAAAAAAV9E/4vYZvzPi7pIirqNwh9NpfZp2ZRZKR7GRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/fullsizeoutput_a23b.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>After an hour or so, Kunzes called several other young nuns to join us and the older ones instructed the younger, working in pairs. The fist day we worked together for nearly three hours and had only one pad completed by the end, laughing and laughing at the process, the mistakes. We did however have many in various stages, as each pad requires at least three thorough stitchings by hand. At one point the old hand-turning sewing machine was brought up to explore if it might be beneficial. It was generally decided that by hand was a better plan, although requiring a great deal more time.<br /><br /></div><div>I stayed three days with my sisters here. Afternoons we sat sewing and laughing together. They tried to teach me the word for scissors (we had one small pair of scissors to share between the ten of us). It became a song. I thought I was learning a song and singing along when they kept laughing and finally said, Kelly, please pass the scissors! By the time I left, we were close to having completed half of the pads.</div><h3 style="text-align: left;">The Old Kitchen</h3><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GxvL5AwbsTA/X5jnPryWCAI/AAAAAAAAV94/AXEAtVaIloEBxDhNmMSAIIHxPwU2wNJCgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1261.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1356" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GxvL5AwbsTA/X5jnPryWCAI/AAAAAAAAV94/AXEAtVaIloEBxDhNmMSAIIHxPwU2wNJCgCLcBGAsYHQ/w424-h640/_DSC1261.jpeg" width="424" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old kitchen<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The women and girls awaken each morning at 6 and spend the next hour or so in morning prayers and then sitting independently studying or memorizing new prayers/teachings. Then a light breakfast and tea is served. Two girls are assigned cooking duty for a day, always an older and younger girl paired together to offer teaching and support to the younger. Most cooking is done in the old kitchen, a blackened mud room with a hole for smoke to escape, piled high with branches and wood that is collected daily. Others have rotating jobs of washing dishes in the now frigid water running from further up the valley. With the beauty of fall and leaves dropping, the canal and pipes become blocked frequently and we spent some time finding the source of the block and to allow water to flow again.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Water and Washing Area</h3><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t9vVUc3EqR0/X5jufGc2IZI/AAAAAAAAV-k/LdSqQMWDh703ubhE4JIdfRGGy2Zk-9sHACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1265.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t9vVUc3EqR0/X5jufGc2IZI/AAAAAAAAV-k/LdSqQMWDh703ubhE4JIdfRGGy2Zk-9sHACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h265/_DSC1265.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water for drinking, washing clothes and dishes, Rizong Nunnery, Ladakh<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Others have rotating jobs of washing dishes in the now frigid water running from further up the valley. With the beauty of fall and leaves dropping, the canal and pipes become blocked frequently and we spent some time finding the source of the block and to allow water to flow again.</div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aves7cy6xv4/X5eG2UZ_R3I/AAAAAAAAV60/L41PsdUStXQ8KPmKDMfCVsdIJJU4n5vbQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_a217.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aves7cy6xv4/X5eG2UZ_R3I/AAAAAAAAV60/L41PsdUStXQ8KPmKDMfCVsdIJJU4n5vbQCLcBGAsYHQ/w362-h640/fullsizeoutput_a217.jpeg" width="362" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kunzes and I shelling walnuts<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div><div>Kunzes gifted me with two and a half kilos of walnuts from the nearest village. In the warmth of sunlight, we sat together cracking and hulling them, shells saved for the winter fires, the meat of the nut saved for me to take home. </div><div>I spent the next morning making a fire in the old kitchen and burning the banana skins to get the precious ashes needed for me to make soap.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbI-YwDGfG0/X5jwS0p741I/AAAAAAAAV-w/_YXe4NX3bXQcfnWN0Im_2gdVsxLDyRGIgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201021_171516.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbI-YwDGfG0/X5jwS0p741I/AAAAAAAAV-w/_YXe4NX3bXQcfnWN0Im_2gdVsxLDyRGIgCLcBGAsYHQ/w226-h400/20201021_171516.jpeg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mitakpa, "impermanence"<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div>When I return next time, I want to take my little hammer and mix of nails, glue, and a saw and do some repairs on things like doors and making shelves.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love this old broken thermos that was used for a flower pot. Now the metal has all worn away and yet the roots and soil still hold it together.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5b1cvmNWB_4/X5eGp7fTMjI/AAAAAAAAV6o/n0yWmiCw0VQoR--NKkD9UAK4bNLxUhMtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_a206.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5b1cvmNWB_4/X5eGp7fTMjI/AAAAAAAAV6o/n0yWmiCw0VQoR--NKkD9UAK4bNLxUhMtgCLcBGAsYHQ/w362-h640/fullsizeoutput_a206.jpeg" width="362" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall colors in the narrow valley of Chulichan, Rizong Nunnery, Ladakh<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I treasure the evenings visiting with Kunzes, sitting in her little room together with her pup, Sentuk, and talking about Buddhism, or personal challenges and how we overcome them, or perceptions, or understanding of the teachings. Unfortunately, the last several visits when I slept in the room with her, I have been badly bitten by bedbugs, and my body reacts quite severely with welts that itch and hurt for days. Fascinating little critters that seem to ignore some people and love others. Some people have no reaction to bites and others react allergically. Kunzes believed that now that the cold has set in, the bedbugs, “chari” are less active or have died off. The first night I spent with her and found only about 10 bites the next day, but more than I care for. The second night I took my pad and sleeping bag to the rooftop where I marveled at the stars and constellations each time I awoke to bundle deeper into my down bag as the temps dropped to freezing. Twice I awoke to rock falls coming down the steep walls of the valley, probably from the blue sheep who can navigate the sheerest of slopes. In the morning Kunzes called out my name from the floor below, asking if I was good. I joined her in her room for a treasured cup of coffee and we sat together for morning mediation/prayers.</div><div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGHbvCjwoiM/X5j2bRlVkJI/AAAAAAAAV-8/t3xpDppetTw8FRhB9xEOv-yUKwkagsOegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201021_171639.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGHbvCjwoiM/X5j2bRlVkJI/AAAAAAAAV-8/t3xpDppetTw8FRhB9xEOv-yUKwkagsOegCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/20201021_171639.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Milking the cow wherever she is, like in the middle of the road..<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>How can I express the joy, the peace, the love of sharing time in this community? The riches of living with so little, sharing the daily life and chores, the gifts of laughter and work. You might think this way of life is such a struggle, a difficult life, and feel the urge to want to give things, to make life easier. Yet Kunzes and I both agree that we are the ones who are rich, that we have such a precious life, making do with what we have, working together for what we need, not desiring more. We are the ones who feel we have all we need, rich beyond measure, and wanting to share this with you…<div><img border="0" src="https://www.blogger.com/img/transparent.gif" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dgBBeujp6m8/X5j3MWBS9II/AAAAAAAAV_E/KKDsSMDvSXwyPfvL57NmMQidWHa3-0AEACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201022_103443.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dgBBeujp6m8/X5j3MWBS9II/AAAAAAAAV_E/KKDsSMDvSXwyPfvL57NmMQidWHa3-0AEACLcBGAsYHQ/s16000/20201022_103443.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terraced for growing along the Indus..</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br />Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-19505118233664876232020-10-27T07:49:00.009+05:302020-10-27T07:55:09.148+05:30Dream<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VPH58TNvnn8/X4sLsbT1mbI/AAAAAAAAVvI/iKDwBCXv9Fwyzwlrtl91TNBUrjVDT1pKQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/P1030277.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="from Rooftop of Buddhist Monastery in Zanskar Valley, Ladakh, Himalayas of northern India" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VPH58TNvnn8/X4sLsbT1mbI/AAAAAAAAVvI/iKDwBCXv9Fwyzwlrtl91TNBUrjVDT1pKQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/P1030277.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dream, Dream Big</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At a young age I was fortunate to have my mother’s words, repeated time and again, to go for what I wanted in life. “Nothing is impossible if you want it and work hard to make it happen”. My father would say “Go for what you want and work out the details later”. My mother lived her words and was a maverick in many ways, making change for the wellbeing of others or the planet despite all obstacles, and there were many. With my father’s words, I have gotten jobs I wanted when there were no openings; by continually returning and saying I wanted to work there. I went to Peru on a one-way ticket and $120 not knowing what I would do or how I would make it. Found a job teaching English to geologist in a mine at 12,000’. Stayed a year. Don’t worry about the details. Go for what you want and the rest will unravel along the way, clearing the path. As a child, I didn’t realize the impact these messages would have for me, profound impacts. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3A1LNd_9DM/X4sNHiIAb7I/AAAAAAAAVvU/P4hAHMHIQEcnJd2SwV2-fv-5cJneQnXIACLcBGAsYHQ/s960/46096835_2285129951561117_6013659306296082432_n.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="New Zealand" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3A1LNd_9DM/X4sNHiIAb7I/AAAAAAAAVvU/P4hAHMHIQEcnJd2SwV2-fv-5cJneQnXIACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/46096835_2285129951561117_6013659306296082432_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Early on I realized I never wanted to work to survive financially. I wanted to work because it was meaningful, because I was passionate about what I was doing. I am very fortunate that most of my jobs were just that: teaching and working with homeless women to get their high school diplomas and move on into college, same with women freshly released from jail, women on welfare, refugees from around the world, primary school teaching, anthropologist, archaeologist, project coordinator for the Charles Darwin Research Station – Galapagos, international school teacher, etc. I never worried about the money. It was always enough to allow me to get by and continue doing what I loved. </div></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have had so many fantastic opportunities to share with others and give all of myself. There is absolutely nothing more rewarding. Too often I think we are conditioned to look out for ourselves first. Sorry, but that has not proven to give me happiness. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It has been a journey of reward, daily reward. The more I give, the more I receive. The more I give from the heart, the richer my present. And for me, giving, or generosity is not just sharing my extra whatever, it is giving something that is a little difficult to let go of, something I am attached to and love. Then I am truly giving. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From years of being poor, both as a child and adult, I learned to be fully aware of everything I spent money on. When I spend money, it is a clear, conscious choice. I generally ask myself “Do I need it?” no, I already have three pairs of pants. If I have a goal in mind, I try to minimize all the little stuff that takes away from my goal. If I want money to travel, I don’t buy the cup of coffee or eat out. I don’t buy new clothes but always second hand. I never bought a new car. I am afraid we get so conditioned to buy, spend without thinking and then we feel trapped that we don’t have the freedom or money we want to do what we want.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mDZQPmNJ--o/X4sGHitDNbI/AAAAAAAAVus/G6NwC8NInFoMSvnSuP1fKnsFfgyNfGZbQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20181109_062739.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="My backpack for five months.." border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mDZQPmNJ--o/X4sGHitDNbI/AAAAAAAAVus/G6NwC8NInFoMSvnSuP1fKnsFfgyNfGZbQCLcBGAsYHQ/w240-h320/20181109_062739.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>I am so, so grateful I learned these messages in my life. I am wearing a seven-year-old t-shirt as I write this, not ready to give it up as it still works for my needs, but if you want it or need it, it’s yours! Less is more. The less I have the freer I am. A couple years ago I returned to the US and sold my beautiful home in New Mexico and everything I owned from a lifetime of living and traveling around the world. Burned all docs from taxes to thesis. Selected some photos of family and friends and trashed everything else. Left there with two suitcases, and could have left more. Now I live in a little passive solar house, 30’ x 12’ and it is still more than I need. When I travel, which is often four months a year, I pack a carry-on 30L backpack, maximum seven kilos. It doesn’t matter where I go or for how long or even what climate. If I change climate zones, I go to a second hand shop, give away all my hot weather clothes and buy a new set for winter weather. Life can be so simple if we let go. Stuff really means nothing. I can find what I need anywhere in the world. We all share the same basic needs from toothpaste, clothing, dishes, electricity, adaptors, whatever. Connecting to others, sharing all that we are, seeing different ways of living, perspectives, customs, values, these are what open me and give me such deep joy and gratitude. I love gratitude. Changes everything. Saw a great saying a while back “What makes me think I will be grateful for this new thing I want, if I am not grateful for what I already have”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And no fear. Fear is faith turned inside out. Spiritual faith, or faith in oneself, or faith in the goodness of people, this is what helps me move forward. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No what if’s. What if the car breaks down, I am robbed, raped, I get a flat tire? When standing on the road for my first hitchhiking trip at 17, I accepted that whatever happened to me it would be part of my journey. If I was to be raped it would be so I could help others who had been raped. It allowed me to move forward with faith instead of fear. Now I ask myself “What’s the worse that could happen?” I die. And that’s ok. I will die someday, someway, when it is my time. I have had a rich life, a beautiful day. I am ready to die anytime.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So dream. Dream big. Whatever your true heart desires you can make happen, but it definitely requires first noticing and then letting go of the distractions to the goal, making sacrifices. It is all about our choices and which paths we choose to take.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k-PRewdAeCE/X4sLNvzGxAI/AAAAAAAAVvA/by_txst24_4uJMeZRIEGkgVEYOJY23pvQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/P1060725.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Waterfall in Laos.." border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k-PRewdAeCE/X4sLNvzGxAI/AAAAAAAAVvA/by_txst24_4uJMeZRIEGkgVEYOJY23pvQCLcBGAsYHQ/w480-h640/P1060725.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-67288842454984615822020-10-18T18:24:00.000+05:302020-10-18T18:24:33.251+05:30Lessons from a Dog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There are so many teachers around me, all the time. I do not have to search them out, but only need to observe. Zawa, “my dog”, or more accurately now, Sonam’s dog, or the village dog, is a great teacher.<br />
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These are some of the lessons she offers me. </div>
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- follow those who nurture you, who feed your soul and love you. Avoid those who do not respect you or treat you kindly</div>
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- rest often (ok, maybe not as often as Zawa!)<br />
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- bask in both the sun and shade<br />
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- when you are full, bury the extra for later when you might get hungry. Take only what you need<br />
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- explore, wander, get to know others outside the wall because they are also generous and kind and feed the soul<br />
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- sit in high places, always choose the high place, and just look around ….for hours and hours</div>
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- show love to new friends and old with hugs and kisses</div>
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- run, jump, dance, and play whenever you can<br />
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- don’t take life too seriously and certainly don’t worry about the future or the past<br />
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- play in the leaves<br />
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- learn a few lessons, like sit or down, but don’t obey anyone</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">- chase the cows or donkeys sometimes</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">- learn some things in different languages</span></div>
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- protect those you love</div>
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- there is nothing that you have to do today<br />
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- play with children, they open us to our true nature and allow us to be…<br />
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- hang your head out the car window and feel the wind</div>
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- explore the senses: smell, taste, hearing, touch, seeing ... these are the things that are happening right now around us. This is real.<br />
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- trust people time and time again and expect the best from them<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADPDKadsbKI/X3YTnXXDYfI/AAAAAAAAVlo/Pf7fZJdjZOcQARkRunuoYINX_wjtlzwwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-10-30%2Bat%2B5.28.56%2Bpm.png"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADPDKadsbKI/X3YTnXXDYfI/AAAAAAAAVlo/Pf7fZJdjZOcQARkRunuoYINX_wjtlzwwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-10-30%2Bat%2B5.28.56%2Bpm.png" /></a><br />
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- get your feet wet <br />
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- don’t be afraid<br />
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- a little dirt really means nothing, so roll in it sometimes!<br />
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- take a different trail and explore new things</div>
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- let someone scratch your stomach and brush you often…<br />
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- role with the flow, expect little, nothing is permanent<br />
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- appreciate all you have, all you are given<br />
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- know how to ask for help when you need it<br />
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- spend time both alone and with others<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AoODPi39koE/X3YUKeDzslI/AAAAAAAAVlw/kHB_DY9SwXkyiHb2Bf9iIxRXESrJcpaqQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/69631804_2964658176941621_8146237502223548416_n.jpg"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AoODPi39koE/X3YUKeDzslI/AAAAAAAAVlw/kHB_DY9SwXkyiHb2Bf9iIxRXESrJcpaqQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/69631804_2964658176941621_8146237502223548416_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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- you don’t need much in life, a comfy mattress, people who love you, food and water, and lots of time outside<br />
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- be present, it is all we really have, all that matters<br />
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- face each day with joy<br />
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- greet the morning and watch the sun leave</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hxsKZ-2x1bo/X3YXDjYCDPI/AAAAAAAAVmE/x2Mf_7eutyAI3BDYs80gRvAYFklvHQt1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/69650324_2964660640274708_5457893394346934272_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="960" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hxsKZ-2x1bo/X3YXDjYCDPI/AAAAAAAAVmE/x2Mf_7eutyAI3BDYs80gRvAYFklvHQt1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/69650324_2964660640274708_5457893394346934272_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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- enjoy all the freedom and choices we have<br />
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- give joy to others</div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com5Ladakh34.2996176 78.2931706-31.716938919589104 -62.331829400000004 90 -141.0818294tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-41540941778930594582020-10-18T11:15:00.004+05:302020-10-19T09:03:30.525+05:30Pausing... by kelly klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSoI4p8OXPA/X4wuOdCLdCI/AAAAAAAAVvk/ETQElWz5mEoxpmRNsI7cu2PQFGCn7phHACLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/mexico%2Bnavidad%2B06%2B043.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSoI4p8OXPA/X4wuOdCLdCI/AAAAAAAAVvk/ETQElWz5mEoxpmRNsI7cu2PQFGCn7phHACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/mexico%2Bnavidad%2B06%2B043.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moment of light, the sound of waves..<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span><h2><div><span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: normal;">Anytime, anywhere, I can simply pause.</span></div></h2><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif"></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">For a moment or a few seconds, I can stop what I am doing and think</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">ing, and imagine
different people around the world and what they might be experiencing in this
same present moment.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">A father is looking at his
sleeping child. A traveler in India is sitting
on a train reading a book. Young children
are walking down a dirt road kicking a stone.
An African woman is </span><br />
</span><a name='more'></a><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="font-size: x-large;">walking up a steep hill with a baby on her hip
and a basin of water balanced on her head. A blind child has become
separated from her parents. An old man is alone in a hospital bed, in
pain. A young girl is cowering in
fear. Someone is extending a hand of
peace to another. A young soldier lies
on his belly in the dark, armed, tense, and frightened. A young monk is ringing
the morning bells in the silence of predawn. A businessman is stuck in traffic.
A Mexican immigrant is alone and lost in the desert. Someone is laughing. Someone is being beaten or raped. Someone is watching a sunset. Someone is hungry. Someone is cold. Someone is touching another with compassion. Someone is mourning a loss. All things are
happening in this same moment, around the world, to all of us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.25in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--19gJv82cvk/X4wu7CiotCI/AAAAAAAAVvs/8Vv36Nh5_D43HBufR3SWggRWNNhg8k4qgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC1019.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Stone wall and rough gate, Ladakh" border="0" data-original-height="1356" data-original-width="2048" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--19gJv82cvk/X4wu7CiotCI/AAAAAAAAVvs/8Vv36Nh5_D43HBufR3SWggRWNNhg8k4qgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h424/_DSC1019.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcoming gate, my home in Ladakh, (kelly klein)<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">For this moment, this pause, I am
connected to them all. I am a witness to their suffering and joy. I am connected to our human family. I know we are all one. I can let go of this
inflated notion of Self and know we are all the same. We all suffer. We all feel physical pain. We all lose those
who are dear to us. We all seek happiness.
Even the murderer and pedophile seek freedom from their suffering,
trapped in their very dark worlds, and they, too, deserve my compassion.</span></div></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-61398064877165257842020-09-26T12:10:00.001+05:302020-09-26T12:10:30.425+05:30Insights, Plumbing, Death, Sex, and Earthquakes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YhsK0kqtTh0/X27ct3-c9WI/AAAAAAAAVgk/9HC99pG0aDUx-HSWi8VR4OtAxuEMXpEagCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/P1230865.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1600" height="474" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YhsK0kqtTh0/X27ct3-c9WI/AAAAAAAAVgk/9HC99pG0aDUx-HSWi8VR4OtAxuEMXpEagCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/P1230865.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Insights, Plumbing, Death, Sex, and Earthquakes</span></h2>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It has been an interesting week here in my isolated high mountain home in Ladakh. I just finished a seven-day silent meditation retreat connected via zoom at special times with a beloved teacher and sanghas in the US. The 12-hour time difference was a challenge and I missed large sections of sharing meditation with the group as their days were my nights, but grateful for what support I had.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Each day was a series of 45 minute sitting meditations separated by 30 minute walking meditations from 6 am to 9 pm with a couple hours break at times for eating and harvesting veggies. No technology, phone off, no emails, texts, calls, only the zoom connection a couple times a day as I listed to a dharma talk or sat in meditative silence with folks on the other side of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Insights</span></span></h3>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VOIIhZ_xkuM/X27d7M0pRDI/AAAAAAAAVgw/I_YepnaDtIkzLwaOLzmtnE-LYQkLBx8CgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/12697210_985570441517081_5104375218763555084_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VOIIhZ_xkuM/X27d7M0pRDI/AAAAAAAAVgw/I_YepnaDtIkzLwaOLzmtnE-LYQkLBx8CgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/12697210_985570441517081_5104375218763555084_o.jpg" width="400" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before each sit, I made an altruistic intention that my efforts would benefit others. Often it was general, that my efforts would benefit all beings, or for those suffering. It is an interesting practice, to offer my efforts or the results of this practice for others. I found it energizing. It helped me continue to push myself to sit, to not give up, to offer all my work to ease suffering of others, or to offer happiness. It is so much easier to do this work with my heart focused on the gift to others, to all of humanity, to specific individuals or groups, to this precious earth. I would gladly do this work not for my own peace or happiness, but to bring less suffering and more happiness to others, because that is also my happiness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Without a doubt, meditation is the hardest work I have ever done. Continually trying to watch the mind takes a great deal of effort and concentration, repeatedly returning to the breath and then watching the mind wander off, returning again and again. Yet I often feel it is the most important thing I could be doing. Over time and practice, and it is practice because it requires me to keep trying, keep returning time and time again, it has opened my heart to myself and others, allowing more compassion, more generosity, more love to flow and receive. During the latter part of the week it became much easier to see the mind become quiet, at ease, even pleasant body and mind experience.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuGUx8wc0lE/X27e8sD-D_I/AAAAAAAAVg4/j-92sLoymNo6_Fsc_DhviAcQaUAvKFuTACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/mexico%2Bnavidad%2B06%2B043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuGUx8wc0lE/X27e8sD-D_I/AAAAAAAAVg4/j-92sLoymNo6_Fsc_DhviAcQaUAvKFuTACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/mexico%2Bnavidad%2B06%2B043.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am continually surrounded by the subtle sounds of water flowing, birds talking or passing over in a swoop, leaves blowing in the trees, the morning chants from the Buddhist monastery across the river, or the call to prayers from the Muslim mosque. Now, I noticed a new sound, the falling of leaves. Within this short time, the season has begun its shift from summer to the imminent winter, the leaves turning yellow and golden, cool breezes and the dancing of leaves on their fall to the earth. Each day, witnessing this change, the impermanence of life, seeing each moment distinct, never to be repeated. So sacred. To have the awareness of life in a second as it changes and passes. Too often I am lost in thinking, planning for the future, remembering the past, and missing the fleeting present.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I realized a few things, gained a few insights, readjusted my belief system. I have been holding the belief that all my emotions are based on my thinking, on what I allow myself to think about, ponder, dwell on. So I try to consistently choose what I allow my mind to hold. Yet that is not completely true. At times, emotions arise unrelated to thoughts. Who knows where they come from. I might awake with anger or sadness, or irritation or frustration. So I am learning to be a bit more gentle with myself, accepting that I have not necessarily created these emotions. I am still careful to explore if my thinking is creating the discomfort but am also learning to just see emotion for what it is. When I experienced resistance to doing the meditation work, and there was a lot of that, I began to just hold it in my arms. “What a strong will you have! You must be tired, constantly fighting. Here let me hold you.” Or when sadness arose, tears trailing my cheeks, the catch in my throat, again I was able to just hold it, like a child in my arms, just holding and comforting until it too passed. No thoughts needed, just compassion and love and acceptance. So, a little more gentleness and kindness towards myself with whatever came up. No resistance. I love the equation: Suffering = Pain x Resistance<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, the last day of a retreat, it is often one of integration, moving from the world of silence and beginning to bring what awareness we have practiced into our modern day practices of connection with others, emails, texts, etc.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hearing work happening on the ridge above my land, well not my land, but the land upon which I am blessed to live, I decided to do the Ladakhi thing, make hot tea and take with snacks to whomever was working. Heading up the hill with the thermos and my dried fruit and nut mix, and a bag of apples a passing neighbor had gifted me from her tree a few days before, I greeted all and shared what I had to offer. Apparently, they were all working on trying to fix the waterline that has been blocked again for the last several months.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Plumbing</span></span></h3>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The system here is quite entertaining really. Everyone wants and needs water, obviously. So the new technology of plumbing, ie laying pipes from a water source down the side of the valley to offer drinking water for home use (not for the fields as that is a system of canals and river/glacier runoff) is still in the infancy stage. Each year, the pipes are blocked for many more months than not. As there is no filtration system, pipes continually fill with rocks, sediment, leaves, etc resulting in the same blockages year after year. To find a block, the procedure is to saw through the metal pipe and see if water is running. If so, then they move down the line to try again another spot. Each cut section is wrapped with a piece of car inner tube to secure the pipes together again. This works, for a while but then each time the pipe is moved or with just time, this also breaks down and leaks. Ah well. This continues down the pipeline until they can locate where the block is and try to clean it. And then some pipes are buried deep enough, 3 feet, to avoid freezing in winter while others sections lay on the ground, guaranteed to freeze in winter. I swear, if I could get a group of volunteers to come here, I think I would look for plumbers to teach the local “plumbers” about ways to avoid these annual issues. But then, I just smile, watching the unfolding of events, the way of doing things, and let go of my judgments and my “superior knowledge” of how things should be done. Letting go of the frustration the need for water continually brings. Life has been going on for thousands of years here, and it will continue, whether or not we have the convenience of water near our homes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A little later, one of the workers came down to my house to fill bottles with drinking water. I had a sign on my door “In Meditation. Silence Please”. He called out, completely ignoring my sign or perhaps he doesn’t read English. I brought out my bucket of drinking water and we filled his plastic bottles. Then he said, “Can I ask you a question?” I tried to explain that I was in silence, meditating. He might not have understood, as he asked me “Are you a virgin?” I said “What?” “Are you a virgin?” he repeated. I was shaken completely out of my calm presence. I said “No. I am 60 years old”, like that explains something. Well for me it did. “Yea, but you are not married. Would you have sex with me, just a little sex? All my friends tease me because I am 20 years old and still a virgin. Please, please, I am begging you, just a little sex” as he is touching my feet out of respect and then down on one knee, begging. Shocked. I said No, don’t ask me again. He continued begging and I continued being more forcefully direct. I tried to explain that he should be proud and not to worry what others say and bla bla, realizing he was not able to hear anything I said so why waste my words. Wow, first bit of talking and I am solicited by a 20 year old, for just a little sex. And what the hell is just a little sex? Funny, crazy, wow… Ok, a little ripple in my serenity for a bit..<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Returning to my meditation practice, I sent him metta, and myself, and you, and all beings in the sky, under the waters, etc. As I am sitting, I sensed a rumbling and a roar, the doors began to shake and rattle and I realized this was not some meditative induced metal phenomena but an earthquake. I grabbed my kitten Luka sleeping between my legs, warmest spot in my house, and raced outside. As all things, it passed, impermanent, rising and passing away. It left me again rattled, eerie having been in such an aware state and feeling the building and release of the earthquake, a 5.4 earthquake I later learned. The things a day will bring.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nWRQx-_hebI/X27fPPM3RLI/AAAAAAAAVhA/g-8M9BuwuzMU4ClyQcUzpi0JxvRxweAywCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/P1040907.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nWRQx-_hebI/X27fPPM3RLI/AAAAAAAAVhA/g-8M9BuwuzMU4ClyQcUzpi0JxvRxweAywCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/P1040907.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An early painting of Joey ?Zuni's</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I began to look at emails, I found that my precious friend Joey, a young Zuni (pueblo indigenous tribe in the southwest US) had died. I met Joey when I was living in Zuni as an archaeologist a lifetime ago. He was twelve at the time. His family became my family. I taught him to drive my ol’ Toyoto ‘Coroda’ on the dirt roads surrounding the pueblo. As he got older, his mother asked me to teach him about sex and protection, as it was something she dreaded. So I taught him about condoms, about respect for women, women’s orgasms, etc. As he grew he become an incredible artist, paintings, carvings from bone and antler inlaid with turquoise and corral, jewelry, fetishes (stones carved to represent spirit animals). He was commissioned to do murals in hospitals and on gymnasium floors. Some of his paintings were sold as cards by the Smithsonian Institute. He was so gifted, so talented. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once he was chosen to represent his tribe, along with young artists from numerous other tribes to visit the source of many of the origin stories often represented in their art. As a group of 15, they floated the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon for a week. As they went along, Joey would spy a piece of driftwood floating and get his raft near to collect it. He was teased all along that he was collecting firewood on the way. When he returned home, he brought gifts to his family, Grand Canyon coffee mugs for mom and dad, and a bag of weather, sacred driftwood for me. It was the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Decades later when I sold my home and everything I owned, I kept the wood he had given me, from the depths of his heart. I have them here with me now, one of the few precious possessions that I kept and carried with me to the Himalayas. A life lost when not even forty years old. The shock of his absence is still resonating; the initial disbelief felt in my mind and body as I hold this precious wood, the gift of a heart that knew and honored my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-71071876913953027042020-09-19T17:19:00.001+05:302020-10-29T19:41:45.624+05:30Ladakh - Preparing for Winter and Playing in Mud, by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fall light, Ladakh by Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">Always so many little projects going on at once. This morning, since there was a little water running through the hand-dug irrigation ditch on my land, I decided to play with clay. Without running water, it is too messy and waste too much stored water to wash my hands afterwards. I had some local clay soaking, always difficult to know how much water to add so that it’s not too wet, but enough to break down the clay. So I spent the morning, sun peaking over the mountains to the east, warming me on my bench, a piece of wood sitting across some old mud bricks, squishing clay. I grab a handful, working it and then add to a bag to keep for later later. Luka, my delightful kitten, had accidentally knocked a flower pot off my windowsill, chasing a fly, which then hit and broke the clay dish holding precious seashells from my world wanderings. Funny how I limit myself to 7 kilo max backpack when traveling for months at a time, yet always manage to bring home a few of nature’s treasures, black and white weathered river rocks from New Zealand, shells from Vietnam and Tunisia, weathered wood from Greece. Always treasures. The shells are presently sitting in a bowl, but since I only have two bowls to my kitchen, I wanted to replace my clay dish. Luka curled up in the shade under my legs as we sat in the beauty and silence, a light wind kissing my skin. Having completed two clay dishes, I set them aside to touch up more when drier. I know nothing about pottery, but have learned through experimentation how to shape and burnish when nearly dry. Without fuel here, I settle for unfired dished. It is the experience of creating and working with what I have that brings me such simple joy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Having washed up, I cleaned and cut tomatoes for drying.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">This precious gift of sunshine grows my food, dries it, and keeps me warm in the long winters.</span><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">Treasures.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">Returning to a project started yesterday, I separated the stems and leaves of the parsley that has dried and put in a jar to return to my spice rack. The dried garlic slices were now ready and I ground them in my little mortar and pestle. Several kilos of cauliflower were next, washed, cut and drying. I suspect I have enough now and the season is winding down quickly. All these years I have been cutting off and discarding the tough stems of broccoli and cauliflower. I never knew I could peel off the rough outer parts and eat the tender inner stems, delicious fresh or cooked. The grated carrots, my first attempt, dried quickly and completely so bottled them as well. Always learning something new. If I had a wealth of resources available I would never have the opportunity to learn resourcefulness, to be creative with what is around me, scrap wood to make a rough book shelf, clay for candle holders, the gourds I grow for hanging flower pots, urine for compost, all the ways to adapt, to create.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">The days are so gorgeous, leaves beginning to turn, the breeze cooler, the freshness of autumn. It is my favorite time of year here. Feels like nothing else. So alive..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">I turned to my greenhouse garden, pulling up the many volunteer flowers. My garden always looks so wild as I have a hard time pulling up anything growing. At first I did not know a sprouting flower from a vegetable, but with time am learning. I planted some chard, spinach, and bok choy seeds to start while the weather is warm enough before putting the plastic back on the greenhouse for winter. This will supplement my dried food, if I have water this winter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">And now it is nap time. I love the rhythm of the days, when I do what feels right. The luxury or resting when tired, feeling the comfort of my mattress below me and the sunlight on my legs. Just feeling this body, feeling the pleasure as it relaxes, feeling the present, no thoughts, pressures, only being. I cannot express the joy of simply being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-27963237383249824892020-09-15T19:58:00.000+05:302020-09-16T16:22:42.846+05:30Drying Food for Winter in Ladakh, by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Ladakh - Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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The simplicity of m life gives me so much joy and satisfaction. It is not easy, but it is simple. Learning how to make do with what I have, with what is around me is incredibly rewarding. I grow food, harvest and dry for the winters, collect seeds for planting the next year, use clay to make dishes and candle holders (unfired of course), make my on compost to try to create soil in this rocky dry landscape, I save my urine to add to compost or to mix with 8 parts water, the golden elixir. I use scrap wood for making bookshelves, wooden boxes. Old coffee offered me a beautiful stain for my kitchen cabinets. The list grows daily as I create what I can from the resources I have. What endless joy this way of life offers me.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Upper Phyang Village, Ladakh - Rohit Ranjan</span></td></tr>
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I have always wanted to garden, to grow things and see them produce but have never lived long enough in one place to do so. This is my third year now in my own little place and all that I have learned has been through observing locals and experimentation. I love it. The greatest challenge is of course water, especially in spring when we are waiting for the days to warm up enough to begin to melt the glacier that feeds our valley. And then it’s the waiting game as people further up the valley use the precious resource to water their fields. It may take a month before it reaches this area, and even then, I am competing with all the other farmers wanting to water their fields of barley and wheat.<br />
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Compost</h3>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Ladakh - Kelly Klein </span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x_uk0TF-ihA/X2DJyTFHz4I/AAAAAAAAVVo/66dIg_UCB14IAHtIl6o-3Q-qWeXPWZVCgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/bda1b3e9-35a2-49ff-af5f-10be312e666f.jpg"></a>Where I built my little 30-foot long passive solar house, the soil is horrible. I was told later that is why no one else lives over here! I am constantly trying to improve the soil by creating compost with sheep dung and dry leaves. I use about an inch of sheep dung and 4 inches of dry leaves, and just keep layering them on top of each other, water well and cover in clear plastic for winter. I also add my own urine frequently to help with decomposition and to add nitrogen. It gives me lovely rich compost by spring. I tried making compost tea this year, using whatever weeds/plants and water and leaving to sit for days or a week (also adding urine). This is then added directly under the tomatoes and leafy greens. I think it helps but hard to tell. A lot of my beds seem to produce miniature version of plants. Even after three years, I cannot dig past about a foot even with a pick ax, but I keep trying.<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Isolation</h3>
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iEN_xsKldRU/X1tdZsV7u-I/AAAAAAAAVQ4/lLSHDFat9ycqXJppjGX7xqNFVxRTBF5pACLcBGAsYHQ/s1836/56739330_2602688423138600_4463656714985537536_o.jpg"></a>All during the summer and into early fall, I am thinking about what I can dry for winter. I live at 12,000 feet (4000 meters) on the Tibetan Plateau, in the Himalayas of northern India. There are only two roads that come into this region, and both roads are closed from generally first of November to end of May. As a result, we get nothing coming in for those 6-7 months. Stores are not restocked, gasoline (petrol) tanks cannot be refilled, all restaurants are closed because we have no fresh fruit or vegetables until the roads open again. Whatever I dry is all the fruit or vegetables for I will have to eat for the next six months. I feel like a squirrel storing away for the winter, although I think my winter is longer! I treasure the creativity and resourcefulness it encourages. <br />
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Spinach</h3>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAF7-KxYE_o/X2GGHK3KCQI/AAAAAAAAVXM/sURlqEekTNMwpfnE9r12DFTWaxxbzzW6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200818_171943.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAF7-KxYE_o/X2GGHK3KCQI/AAAAAAAAVXM/sURlqEekTNMwpfnE9r12DFTWaxxbzzW6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200818_171943.jpeg" width="212" /></a>Every day I am drying something. Yesterday I went to a friend’s and picked about six kilos of</div>
spinach. Spent the next several hours picking off the leaves, saving any seeds that were ready, and washing and laying out for drying. I use a plastic sheet on my floor and have trained my kitten Luka to stay off it. The trick was leaving a corridor for him to pass around it instead of laying it up against the wall. I have also found it better to scrunch up the leaves of spinach, kale, chard, whatever leafy greens I have so that they are not laying flat and have better chance of drying. Then tossing/turning the leaves daily until dry. It only takes a few days for my leafy greens. Often I will cut them up first, as I seem to enjoy eating them better this way. Or, I can also crunch them up when dry and adding to my hot water.<br />
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Frugality</h3>
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A typical meal is filling a pot of water, adding my dry veggies, adding pasta when it comes to a boil, and then just draining off the water and eating straight out of the pot. As I have never had water in the winter, having to hand-carry it up the terraces from the river below, I am incredibly frugal around its use. I can wash dishes in about a liter and save that dirty water to put in the greenhouse garden. Last year, after learning that urine is actually sterile (apparently the field surgeons during the Civil War soaked their surgical instruments in urine), I decided not to waste precious water to rinse the food out of my pots. I use urine first, and then wash and rinse normally. Sorry, urine and cooking in same paragraph! Dried veggies can also just be soaked ahead of time in hot water to add to omelets or whatever dish I am making.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">So far this year: (from top) arugula, mongol (local chard), lettuce, catnip</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Second row: carrot leaves, spinach, Russian kale, mushrooms, zucchini, chard, spinach, and a mix</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Third row: basil, tsamik (a native lemon flavored leaf), cilantro, spinach, eggplant, broccoli, cauliflower mix, sunflower leaves, and a mix of greens (arugula, spinach, chard, kale)</span></td></tr>
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I am still waiting for the mushrooms to come in. Last year I dried 15 boxes, thinking of only the winter, but since they only come into Ladakh for a week or two every year, this year I want to dry 30 boxes so that I can have them all year. I just love them and they dry so quickly. All these things when dry shrivel up to nothing, making it easy to store. The trick is to remember to only use a small amount when cooking. A small handful of broccoli equates to probably two large heads!</div>
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<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Mint drying in homemade hammock </span></td></tr>
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Garlic</h3>
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JHlpVxv3tVM/X2CQVGbDhEI/AAAAAAAAVTU/qhGcom9TP5w9O1Vg1UgMuZR4set0osK5gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200818_171525.jpg"></a>Today I decided I was going to make my own garlic powder. This is my first time. I love the ease of garlic powder but have not been able to purchase it here in Ladakh the last couple years. First I peeled the garlic. Several tricks, putting cloves in a glass jar and shaking vigorously will remove the skins, or just cutting off the ends and pressing with a knife. After slicing several cloves, I realized how much easier it was to slice long ways, then I spread them on a plate and have them sitting in the sun. Once dry, I will use my little mortar and pestle and grind them. I cant wait! Another way I preserve garlic, this I learned in South America, is to just cover the peeled cloves with olive oil in a glass jar. Then just take out what you want and slice. This also gives me garlic-flavored oil I can use and then I just top it off again with fresh olive oil. I have no refrigeration here (nor an oven) and yet have found that a jar of garlic cloves stored perfectly well for two years.<br />
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Drying Variety</h3>
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I have been drying mint, cilantro, kale, chard, lettuce, tomatoes, dill, lemon balm, sage, basil, chamomile, spinach, carrot leaves, and anything else edible. I have a can full of dried arugula, and lots of broccoli and cauliflower as well. We can never get enough of these it seems. Sometimes I bag dried things together for a green mix, or a broccoli cauliflower mix, other times I separate them. I have a large canister of dried zucchini this year as well. My first good crop, enough to dry and to share with friends and neighbors, as it is a new veggie in this culture. I was delighted to learn last year that I can also dry the sunflower and hollyhock leaves. I have also started drying bananas and found that cutting them in wedges lengthwise works better than slices, which stick to whatever surface there are on unless I can get them to stand up on the edges. My floor and counters are constantly littered with drying things, including plates of seeds: dill, nasturtiums, chard, spinach, carrots, whatever is ready to be stored and planted next year.</div>
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I just stepped out to fill my big bucket with drinking water and noticed that the sea buckthorn is ready to collect now. It is a bit of a job as it is dangerously spikey. You have to beat the bush with a stick and collect them on a cloth laid below. Tricky.<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Gratitude</h3>
I am so grateful for this life, despite the hardships, for me it is what feels real. It pushes me to be strong, resilient, and flexible. I must depend on my own creativity and resourcefulness. It grounds me, connected to the earth, to life, to the offering of water and sunlight. I get so many opportunities to practice patience, acceptance, letting go. Every day is a gift to make it what I can. So deeply and humbly grateful.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Agriculture in Ladakh, Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-43280709868475924892020-08-02T19:31:00.000+05:302020-08-28T10:05:16.520+05:30Impermanence: Witnessing Kotor <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";"> </span><span style="font-family: "papyrus";"> Kotor, Montenegro November 2019</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">After hitching north for several hours, I caught a local bus the last bit and entered Kotor, Montenegro. A short 10 steps after exiting the bus on the edge of old town, I saw a young black and white kitten lying on a tree stump. He did not look well. He was not interested in food or water. I couldn’t leave him lying there. I picked him up and tucked him in my extra bag I carry for shopping trips. His back end was quite wet and messy and he smelled very bad, like dead fish. I tucked him inside my fleece vest to warm him up while I figured out what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">I walked through old town, well hobbled really, bad knee pain, found a room, dropped my backpack and headed back out, caught a taxi to the nearest vet who was closing in 30 minutes. I told him the story of finding this little guy and he wanted to talk more about where I lived in Ladakh. I normally love to talk about the place but I really wanted his attention on this kitten. Poor little guy was given numerous shots, vitamins, antibiotics, fluids, and not sure what else. The vet also gave me some special moist food and a small syringe to feed him with. I thanked him profusely. He only charged me 5 euro and called me a cab back to old town. Once I got into the room, I set up a pillow and clean towels and my water bottle filled with hot water and tucked him in to warm him up. I gave him a couple tiny bites of food and watched him closely. Very quickly I could see he was going down hill. At some point, I knew he was dying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">Until that moment, I had thought I would nurse him back to health and take him along with me traveling until I could find him a good home, maybe in Albania or Greece, or maybe even carry him with me to Ladakh.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">I named him Kotor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Hq5KLzXvc/XyV6L-FrNPI/AAAAAAAAUps/JbHzYHpoKfgV5KxAMBg4E4T25Wjz7eTUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20191208_152033.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A7Hq5KLzXvc/XyV6L-FrNPI/AAAAAAAAUps/JbHzYHpoKfgV5KxAMBg4E4T25Wjz7eTUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20191208_152033.jpeg" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">When I realized he was dying, I figured the only thing I could do was hold him, let him be loved and held against my warm body. I tucked him in my arms and just watched him as he began to die. His cries became weaker. He began with the death stretches. He had turned onto his back so I was able to watch his face and eyes, see the thumping of his little heart and watch his chest rise and fall. I held him. For at least an hour, watching pupils as they would dilate and get large over and over. His eyes became unresponsive to my touch and he no longer blinked, but still his heart beat and his breathing steady. His little mouth slightly open, a beautiful face, cute little nose, delicate mouth, gentleness. He radiated gentleness. It seemed he was no longer conscious and yet his heart continued. I stroked him, spoke to him, told him he could let go, thanked him for the brief time we had, told him it was ok. His body began to twitch more rhythmically. I watched him take his last breath, his heart beat stopped and it was over. I continued to hold him in case it is true that the soul lingers near the body. I just wanted him to know he was not alone, that he was loved, and wished him a happy journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">Death is so real, such a gift really. To be present for the ending of a life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">We are so focused on living, avoiding death, avoiding aging, avoiding the reality of our lives. We are constantly getting older, these bodies will get ill, wrinkled, weak, we will experience pain, we will experience loss of loved ones, loss of everything and everyone precious to us, we will die, everything dies. Nothing is permanent. Not this moment, not this happiness, not this sadness, not this problem, not this WiFi, not this day, not this body.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";"> I have been privileged to witness and share in death on several occasions. I held my brother's hands as he died. I was curled in my mother’s bed holding her as she died . I was rubbing my grandmother’s head, singing to her as she died. I have been able to be with several animals as they died. Despite what is so conditioned in us, I find it such an amazing and rare gift. There is an acute awareness of the present. It is all we have, this breath this moment.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus";">So little Kotor, your presence and death, though a few short hours, was tremendous. We connected and shared something precious, your death. I am sorry you are gone and not here to share my journey, but glad that I was able to be with you, hold you, love you until you took your last breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-54755284506909287332020-07-12T22:58:00.001+05:302020-08-28T10:06:12.846+05:30Meditation and Zawa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fire circle for cooking, blue sarong on ladder, captivating view - Ladakh, Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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I have been fortunate to attend numerous silent meditation retreats from ten days to two months in different parts of the world. Each one is a unique and profound experience. It is amazing what comes up when we quiet our minds. I think lots of folks have an image of bliss, which is certainly there as well. What I found was that things that I had suppressed or not dealt with deeply, or the emotional baggage of old traumas would surface and finally get their processing time. Once the crying was so intense my arms felt like electric current and then froze and I couldn’t move them. So much stuff built up inside. Sometimes terrifying as it surfaces. It was quite a surprise to me. Not at all what I expected and if I had known ahead of time, I probably would have been quite resistant to go through with it. Of course now, on the other side of it, I am deeply grateful for the release of things I did not even know I carried.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow, Ladakh-Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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On the flip side, long silent meditation retreats allow glimpses into the true nature of the mind, how it is constantly running in the background. Like the heart, the mind does its own continuous job, thinking. When I explore thinking, I can see when a thought pops up, I notice it, and then watch it drift away like a cloud on the horizon, to have then another pop up, notice it, and watch it drift. This sometimes can continue for minutes or hours until my mind finally because quieter.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Light on barley and wheat fields, Likir, Ladakh- Kelly Klein<br />
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The clarity came once in a ten-day retreat. I remember thinking about my job and how toxic it was to me and yet I was still helping others. Questioning if I should quit or continue altruistically. If mother Therese could continue working with lepers, couldn’t I continue to help even though it was making me sick? On and on the thoughts rambled. Sometimes I notice that I am thinking immediately as a thought arises, sometimes I get completely lost in the thought and the story goes on for some time before I notice that I am thinking. On this occasion I was lost in thought perhaps 20 minutes. No real knowing because when completely absorbed in my thoughts, I am not aware of my body, time, or the present and what is happening here and now. By the time I finally noticed I was thinking, my thoughts had gone from my job to who knows where. All I remember was the last thought when I became aware. That thought was “I wonder what they do for a constipated elephant in captivity?” Now where did that come from? “I” would never have wondered that. It was the mind doing its work of constant chatter, often irrelevant, meaningless chatter. Fascinating.<br />
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It does the same with fears. To me, fear is simply believing the story that we have come up with in our minds. We do not have to follow that or give it any weight. One teacher often said to recognize our fears and invite them into our hearts for a cup of tea. I love that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Likir Monastery, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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I had been living with my Ladakhi family for a year or two and really wanted to do a silent retreat for myself. As I was closely connected to the monastery schools and many monk teacher friends, I started wandering about looking at the meditation huts that each monastery has. They tend to have at least two or three. When I stopped in Likir, the headmaster said no problem. Here, the students can take you to see them. So we started hiking. We hiked for a few hours and checked out all three. I like the second one, which had a small dripping spring that would provide enough water. Returning to the monastery, I was again told I would be welcome to use whichever I wanted as long as I wanted. He asked when would I like to start. I told him I would be back tomorrow. I drove home and quickly packed an old pot, a bucket for collecting water, some food supplies (flour, eggs, pasta, oats, oil, tea, lentils, veggies, fruit), an old enamel cup and spoon, sleeping bag and pad, clothes, toilet paper, soap, a couple Buddhist books for study, roasted barley flour to make food for my dog, and my faithful dog Zawa.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bed, meditation seat, and precious wooden box. Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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After driving back the three hours to the monastery the following morning, the monklets helped me carry my things an hour up the mountain until reaching the hut. It was perfect for me. A rough mud and rock structure with an open terrace/patio with partial shade and a room where I stored my things. I lived on the terrace, meditating, cooking, and sleeping under the stars. There was one old wooden box that I was so grateful for as it allowed me to sit on something instead of always on the ground. The sweet box<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zawa saying goodbye, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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Three days into sitting and walking meditation, Zawa decided this was just a bit too boring. She came over to greet me and was quite excited. I said ok, and she took off back down the mountain without looking back. Oh well, letting go. The first time I think she was gone for a day and startled me arriving in the middle of the night. No moonlight and yet she wandered up the mountain. I tried to entice her to stay longer by providing something tastier, like a raw egg, or left over pasta. Didn’t work. She left again after a couple days and stayed away longer. Each time she would come back and stay one night and then leave for longer.<br />
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At one point I thought I might as well make use of her frequent trips. I wrote out a shopping list and wrapped it around her collar. Not sure if anyone would receive it, but worth a try. Sure enough, the next Sunday several monklets carried up all the food items I had requested. They respectfully stayed in silence and headed back down after 30 minutes. Next time I need a doggie backpack and she can carry supplies up with her! By the time I left, I had not seen Zawa for almost ten days.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunflower plant that grew with me..</td></tr>
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When I first arrived, I found a tin can and planted a sunflower seed I had brought with me. It gave me such immense joy to share that month with this little plant, watching it grow, develop leaves. It was my companion a lot more than my faithful Zawa. I also took clay with me and made a couple candleholders as needed and played with the extra.<br />
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I made a brief journal entry each day to keep track of the days. No phone or anything electrical. Collected wood for cooking and found the afternoons too windy for fire so had tea and homemade yogurt and oats most mornings while cooking something simple to eat later for lunch. I never eat dinners so that was easy. I love cooking over fire and how creative one can be with making food from limited supplies. I learned to make “biscuits” in a pan and other delights. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dripping spring</td></tr>
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The dripping spring was sufficient, plenty of water initially but by the end of the month I was down to half a bucket of fresh water a day. Still enough to drink, wash dishes, a few drops for my plant friend. Some days I had enough for a bucket shower and washed one piece of clothing a day. Foxes, pika, lizards, and birds frequented the spring and we shared the precious water. The pika began to greet me and sit with me a few feet away, munching on vegetation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pika, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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At times it was lovely, other times so challenging, questioning, resisting, tears. I never felt lonely or afraid. The struggle was always within my mind. I was so focused at times on seeing thoughts arrive, I tried to identify if they started more often on an in-breath or an out-breath. Never was able to catch them that quickly.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Likir, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<br />When we allow ourselves the time and space to be present, fully present, it is the most beautiful and amazing experience. There is nothing more. Nothing ahead, nothing behind, just the magic of the present moment, which, no matter how removed or isolated, is still loaded with stimuli: the feel of the breeze blowing on the left side of my face, the sunlight hitting my forehead, the sounds of birds, water dripping, wind, leaves, critters stirring, far away sounds, near sounds. I have yet to ever experience pure silence. There is always something…<br />
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It was magical, difficult, liberating, refreshing, and enlightening.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladder, light and shadow. Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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After 30 days, I hiked down to the monastery and village and the kids came again to help me carry the things back down from the mountain. I asked around if folks had seen Zawa. They said she had followed some tourist on one of the treks and had been gone several days. Without Zawa, I returned to my village. Four days later Sonam and I went back to see if Zawa had returned from her trek. Folks said they had last seen her at the monastery school. Sure enough, there she was sleeping. We woke her and asked if she wanted to go home yet. She jumped into the car and off we went.<br />
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The attached pics share a bit of that space and time but you need to look closely in some to see the detail, given the scale and terrain.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meditation Hut and seven tress (zoom in!)- Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Likir, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zawa on my bed, water jug with wooden plug, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadows, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raw, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Likir, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mud and Wood Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lizards at the spring</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharp Ridges, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monklets leaving after delivering food, lower left (zoom)- Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-46360072331411701582020-07-06T21:00:00.002+05:302020-08-28T10:08:59.651+05:30Plowing and Planting in Ladakh by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fields of barley, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">Another beautiful day in Ladakh…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">Snow layered on the peaks, trees budding, and time for preparing and planting the fields of wheat, barley, potatoes, lentils, mustard, and more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">I joined my Ladakhi family and friends to help in the fields today. While demanding, tiring labor, it is filled with shared laughter, song, food and drink. There were two families present, each owning one dzo, the cow-yak hybrid. Intimidatingly large, timid critters, the dzo plowed the fields to Puntsok’s familiar song. Sometimes, even when I am across the valley on my own little hilltop, I can hear his song and know he is plowing a field, his own or a neighbor’s. Each man has his own unique songs, which are also directions for the animals of when to turn or stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">The handmade wooden plow is a work of art, sometimes with an old metal can wrapped around the base of the wood to protect it from rocks. The iron blade cuts through the soil with the weight of the man leaning deeply into the furrow. Those of us around will immediately pick out the invasive weeds followed by one of the women tossing the seed. The next furrow covers the previous one. There are no assigned jobs but we work together as a fluid motion, doing whatever needs to be done at that moment, observing, supporting, participating fully.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">At times we stop to drink tea, black tea or butter tea, and chapatis. Other breaks might be with Fanta, or just water. Fanta, such a fascinating drink, orange bubbling sugar, reminds me of living in the village in west Africa, hot Fanta as we had no refrigeration and where the bottle caps were always reused; you could see the brand name of the previous soda on the inside of the cap.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;"> </span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">As the plowing moves down the field, we cover the seeds and level the ground, preparing for the process of irrigating in the future. Using handmade wooden rakes? paddles?, a simple forked stick with another piece of flat wood attached to the end, a rhythm, a constant rhythm of plowing and planting. No directions, no one in charge or giving orders, just a harmony of working together, laughing, taking turns, resting. No one is ever pushed, asked to do something. Everyone does what they can until someone offers to do it, and then they will flow into another part of the process, spreading the seeds, picking out any weeds, roots, or rocks, It is like a dance. We dance together and independently, responding to the need by what we have to offer, what we choose to offer, and both giving and accepting. No judgment. Finally, a heavy bar is dragged across the soil that further levels the field.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fields of barley of wheat , Ladakh - Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">Prior to plowing and planting, the fields were watered/soaked about 10 days ago from the canals that carry water off the river that is fed by the melting glacier. It is always a time of waiting, ready to plant but dependent on warm weather begin the glacial melt. Some years, if very cold spring, our growing seasons doesn’t begin until June which leaves so little time to grow and harvest. We are so largely dependent on the natural world, the cycles, the unpredictability, adapting to whatever it is with patience and acceptance. No thinking, No tension.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L7TLI5boASg/XXSjCEggg5I/AAAAAAAAMII/EIxcEy3l0E04Hd4WeWVJ0Qg4sIdI8pkRgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/P1000815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1222" data-original-width="1600" height="243" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L7TLI5boASg/XXSjCEggg5I/AAAAAAAAMII/EIxcEy3l0E04Hd4WeWVJ0Qg4sIdI8pkRgCPcBGAYYCw/s320/P1000815.JPG" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">After watering the fields, the loot as it is called in Ladakhi, which is the human waste from our dry composting toilets, is carried to the fields either by back, or if fortunate enough, by local donkeys or horses, transported from the house toilet to the fields. The loot was dumped in piles throughout the fields a month ago to continue decomposing and is then sparingly spread around the fields immediately before plowing. It is a minimal amount but all that we have, the only fertilizer available for the land as the cow dung is gathered and saved for fuel in the frigid winters. The quantity of loot one has is dependent upon the size of the family, how many folks are pooing in a day. Dried leaves, sawdust, ashes, and/or dirt are used to cover our daily contribution in the local toilet and create additional composting material.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">One of my favorite times, at the end of harvest, late fall, every family will have the Buddhist monks come to their homes to do at least one day of prayers. These prayers are specifically for any and all insects or critters who might have been harmed or accidentally killed that year during the plowing, planting or harvesting. What a concept, what awareness, to offer thanks and apologies to the other inhabitants of our world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9PDlwpvBNg8/XwMFzyMyAqI/AAAAAAAAUMM/4OTi4gyzV44taSUjAcro4-Oqr88qhiXJACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_1142.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9PDlwpvBNg8/XwMFzyMyAqI/AAAAAAAAUMM/4OTi4gyzV44taSUjAcro4-Oqr88qhiXJACPcBGAYYCw/s400/IMG_1142.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 16pt;">This is my life. I am so absolutely incredible grateful to be a part of this community, this way of life. I came back to my home, exhausted, dirty, sore muscles carried me back across the river and up to my home alone. I am alive, very much alive in this day. I am so fortunate to be able to dance the dance of ages, to hear the songs, to share the laughter and Fanta. Brimming with joy and thanks…many Julleys!!</span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-24983026718786387992020-07-02T20:52:00.004+05:302020-07-06T20:53:15.118+05:30This Moment... Carrot Tops, Kitten, Compost, and Music<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">New kitten in Ladakh, by Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Feeling great love for this moment, and for you..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At times, I find myself wondering what ‘should’ I be doing? I ‘should’ be making a greater contribution within my community; I ‘should’ be making better use of my time, being more constructive, bla, bla, bla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I let go of that, come back to now, this moment, I am living, fully living. I hear Cat Stevens playing in the background, my feet on the floor, stripping lettuce leaves off plants that have bolted and are about to flower. Some, of course, I leave in the ground to fully flower and seed to save those seeds for replanting. Learning about so many things that are edible has been an ongoing and rewarding process. I long for things to create compost to nourish my poor soil, but then find another thing that is edible. Carrot tops (leaves) taste like parsley but milder. So I pulled up the carrot plants and get to use all of it, roots and leaves. Poor compost. Again, nothing for you. Lately when weeding, I will cut the weeds leaving the roots to create more leaves to again feed the compost bin. Other times I just pull them up, always trying to catch them before they seed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What more do I need or want in this moment of my life? Nothing. I am living. I am growing and harvest, washing and drying for winter use. Why do I need to have some other activity, purpose? Isn’t this enough, this moment, ahh, it just passed, but fortunately, I am experiencing another, a blues song rolling along behind me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Drying lettuce for adding to cooked meals in winter, Ladakh, Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before pulling the carrots today, I pulled up lettuce that was also going to seed, stripping off the leaves, washing and spreading to dry for the winter. A little tough and bitter for eating raw, but fine for soups, and cooked dishes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not to alarm you, but oh well, in the morning, I take my bottle of urine outside, mixing with water to offer nitrogen to the green leafy plants. I found an old plastic olive oil bottle cut in half works perfectly between my legs at night.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Little Luka, my new companion, Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I have a kitten. So exciting. I have so desperately wanted a friend, a companion, a living thing to love other than the garden. I was so hungry for animal companionship; I made a little swimming pool with an old yellow washbasin and surrounded it with flowers. Now I see wild dogs, cats, birds, and lizards visit my little water offering. And now this kitten. I had forgotten about the energy they carry during their spurts when not sleeping.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I have lots of clay around from construction of this house, I made a couple clay marbles that he loves to play with, rolling around the floor. The other cat toy is just a stick with a string attached that I can wave around when he is over- the-top crazy and needs to release it all. Ah, grace Slick now, feet still on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Luka on bed, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Can each of these moments in themselves be life, nothing more? Why do we so often seek to want something else, to desire some job, possession, person, activity, future…? How much do we lose by not being here now, appreciating all that we are experiencing, good or bad, and not trying to move away from it? I find curiosity such a powerful tool. When experiencing difficult moments physically, emotionally, or mentally, if I can turn towards them with curiosity, it changes my relationship completely to it. Previously, when experiencing pain, I would reach for a drug, get lost in thoughts of poor me, and experience great aversion to the present moment. With curiosity, I can see it change moment by moment, sometimes more increased, sometimes subdued, sometimes pulsing, sometimes sharp. With this attention, I feel a level of love and acceptance too, that this moment is like this. And the next, THIS moment is like this, or this moment is like THIS. And now Habib Koite and Bamada sing to me. Ever changing this moment, this body, the light, the internal and external experience. If I was aware of all of it, it would probably be overwhelming, all the changes happening each moment. To be aware of the changes that I see, hear, smell, feel, taste…all at the same time in this moment. Perhaps our natural filters are important or we would be overwhelmed with the present stimuli changing every second. And yet, so many subtle but real changes that I so often miss, lost in my mental processes. I used to think the mind was so important, now I see what a powerful distraction it is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ah, and now John Martyn, ..so often I forget to turn on music, just basking in the silence, yet notice how music shifts the internal energies too. It makes me feel joyful and is truly a treat. That others can create feeling from sound and combinations of sound and voice that in turn create a different energy within me. Fascinating. Very grateful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, to all my friends, I invite you to this moment, in all its richness. Is there really anything more important, more real, more meaningful?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-8750055066211660432020-05-25T20:43:00.001+05:302020-08-28T10:09:44.961+05:30The Kiss of Water<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My gate, first dusting of snow, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">March 14, 2020<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">Such delightful, simple joys fill me with gratitude. Home again in the Himalayas, after four and a half months of winter wandering, I find such pleasure in the simplicity of my life here. I am filled with gratitude.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1060" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DxMXk_VoOkM/XsvfhSuCHEI/AAAAAAAATl4/rTKGrNAF7AkTTvwCu_2dogrFf6kfnJ6cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/_DSC1024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="262" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from my home, Fall, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DxMXk_VoOkM/XsvfhSuCHEI/AAAAAAAATl4/rTKGrNAF7AkTTvwCu_2dogrFf6kfnJ6cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/_DSC1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">The Snow painted mountains framed in my windows hold the moisture that will continue to provide us life. Water, our most precious resource is treated with great respect. Winters are long here, and we carry water from the river to allow us dish washing and bathing and spring water is carried from a bit further up the valley for drinking and cooking. Last year I purchased a 1000 liter black hunk of plastic that sits in my covered greenhouse. It was filled last fall, before my trip, when there was still water in the pipe that comes from a spring on my side of the valley. This pipe only runs a few months a year and is frozen the rest. I expect this tank to last me until the glaciers begin melting in late spring when farmers compete for the flow to flood the fields so seeds can begin their short growing season. I won’t see water until those further up the valley have satisfied their needs. We waste none of it, competing to irrigate throughout the days and nights of early summer. I occasionally was able to hijack water into my canal at 3 am last year, but rarely. So this ugly monstrosity of black plastic holds this precious resource to last me until June. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">Today I had decided it was time for a bath. Many Ladakhis can make it two weeks between baths, but it’s too much for me. I heated a large pan half full of my liquid gold and then added cool water as needed to attain the right, rich temp for a bath. Dropping a folded feedbag over my young spinach and chard plants in my greenhouse, I stepped onto it gingerly and began the delicious ritual. Dipping an old measuring cup into the pan, I sparingly wet my body, soaped up with a natural blended shampoo bar that serves for all my bathing needs. Rinsing is beyond pleasure. Hot water kissing my face and shoulders, the back of my kneck, running the length of my body, rinsing away dirt and stress. I am so fully present to this experience. There is nothing more heavenly, nothing more beautiful than the feeling of the water on my skin. The plastic greenhouse cover whips gently with the breeze while I am immersed in a glorious love affair with water. I vary my position on the feedbag from time to time to allow the runoff to reach different plants. Finished, I carefully step into my crocs trying to avoid the dirt with wet feet, and spread the remaining water puddled on the feedbag to the other thirsty seedlings in the bed. Nearly as pleasurable is treating my clean body to my own lotion I make with a combination of oils, always about 50% coconut oil for thickening, and any combination of apricot, sesame, olive, or neem oil and a bit of lanolin if I still have some. The smell, the texture, the knowing of where it came, when it was made, how it was made, providing comfort and nourishment, fills me with delight. As I gift this old saggy, dry, wrinkled skin with love, again, I am so grateful. Grateful for the opportunity to be present. Grateful for the richness of simplicity, the joy, the satisfaction. And then clothing myself again in layers to work with the cold. This is my life. How rich I am…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s3O7HxMB4XE/Xsvf6HSMG1I/AAAAAAAATmA/aLkrAiSPCAwW9ycAlFBco3r17yF6wc5pACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/_DSC1036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">And then I ask myself, why do I not feel this way when taking a shower when traveling, or using a western toilet? Is it because these things are so standard, so taken for granted? Is it because I am so much more self-reliant here and treat our limited resources with so much more awareness and gratitude? Dry leaves are piled high in my outdoor self-composting toilet, another precious resource for me to use in the making of compost. Not overabundant here in the high desert. Why I am so much more comfortable here, despite how hard life can be? I think it is simply because it is real. I have to rely on my own resourcefulness, my own creativity, my own efforts to grow food, dry it for the long winters when we are cut off from the world for seven months, to repair my home with clay, sand, or rock, to use rubber inner tube pieces for connecting plumbing…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size: large;">All I know for sure, is that this is where I blossom. I am filled with such gratitude despite sitting here typing with cold stiff fingers. My little mud house is passive solar but the sun hasn’t been out much for the last week so a bit cold inside, freezing outside. But it doesn’t matter. It is my life here. It is real. It is grounding, rewarding, rich. I am so, so rich…</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-23046703748501613972020-04-23T10:55:00.001+05:302020-08-28T10:10:22.748+05:30Covid and the Earth - Changes.... by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother feeding her little one, Pushkar, India - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I am sharing my thoughts, my reflections as a gift of love. You may agree with some or nothing. I mean no offense to anyone. We are all in this together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I have felt very quiet this last month or so. As the covid-19 virus spreads throughout the human population in all corners of the world (a few isolated islands and Antarctica are still Covid-19 free), the life of “normalcy” came to a screeching halt for millions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It is difficult to imagine what so many are going through as we each live in our limited perspectives. What is it like for rural Africans who have very little in terms of health care, infrastructure, education, or resources? What is it like for the drug addict, whose body so desperately depends on the regular intake of chemicals? And those suffering from severe depression or suicidal leanings with nowhere to go, no one to touch? The animals at zoos and rescue shelters…all the NGO’s who are losing funding to support the neediest populations of people and animals dependent on care? The lack of food as transport shuts down, millions in India hungry and homeless as they lost their jobs as day workers, with no money, no shelter, no food. The fear…the incredible debilitating fear that causes folks to close their hearts and respond with anger, tears, anxiety, selfishness, building walls..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I try to imagine what it is like for another, and yet the true scenarios are endless. I work to extend my heart. I try to open my mind and heart to the different challenges that each person is facing, each one unique and fraught with difficulty, suffering, and different ways of experiencing joy. And then I turn my heart to the virus itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">What is a virus? Is it alive or is it chemical in nature? I think of viruses like seeds. They have the potential to grow and transform but without a host it is not possible, just as a seed needs water and sunlight. Viruses have been around since the beginning of cellular life. They are an intricate part of the natural world and have certainly shaped evolution. I feel a very deep respect for viruses. While there are many, many theories about the source of the virus, whether it was an intentional or not, to me it doesn’t really matter. It is what it is, a virus that has found a host to live, multiply and spread. And viruses have always been and likely will always be a part of this life on earth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lumbini, Nepal - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">I am fascinated by viruses. Outside of natural disasters, I see viruses as nature’s way of controlling humanity. In general, it seems that we tend to think and act as if the planet and all its resources are ours, to use and deplete for our survival and comfort. As a result, we have reached a tipping point of what this earth can sustain, the global warming as a result of our actions and way of life, the severe increase of species extinctions, the inequitable distribution of wealth and resources. Perhaps the virus has surfaced to take back some control. Perhaps the virus is nature’s way of saying “Enough!” Perhaps the earth knows better than we do, knows that if it is to continue to thrive and sustain all of life, it needs to shake us up. Perhaps we are being called to examine our way of life, our unique perceptions of reality, or what it truly important, and all the things that distract us from living simply and sustainably. Perhaps we are being asked to return to live with the land, dependent on the soil, sun, and water, dependent upon using the simple resources of dried leaves, rocks, branches, clay and sand, dependent on community, sharing resources, skills, knowledge, and labor. I believe this is the only way forward for us as a human community, but is it even possible? We are so privileged and accustomed to making choices for ourselves, as individuals, rather than the greater good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"> I am afraid my views of humanity are a bit pessimistic at this time. I am doubting that we will change our ways, let go of comfort and convenience for the greater good. We too often rely on or blame governments, big business, etc. for the problems and granted they share a huge responsibility. But I believe each of us holds the same responsibility. We like meat and yet know how toxic the meat industry is to the planet, not to mention the pain caused to other sentient beings. We buy and buy to make our lives more comfortable, not willing to see the larger picture and our individual contributions to the devastation, nor do we seem</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> willing to make the personal sacrifices. As I said, feeling pessimistic.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phyang, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US">For the first time in memories, people are witnessing the earth healing, clear skies, views of distant mountains, water sources becoming cleaner and animals beginning to multiply and experience a new freedom. I like to think of the virus as a nature’s way of reclaiming the earth and attempting to repair some of the devastation we have caused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">But when the virus goes back underground again and is no longer a threat, will we continue in our old ways of consumption, overuse, and abuse? Will we attempt to grow our own foods, create community gardens accessible to all in cities, live a simpler more sustainable life? Curb our desires and comforts for the good of the planet?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I see the empty streets, the world shut down as a sign of love, a show of solidarity. By isolating we are expressing love, love for our neighbors, strangers, grandparents, selves. It is a gift we offer, despite the discomfort, to all of humanity as well as this amazing planet, the natural world that sustains us physically, emotionally, and spiritually. At the same time, I see it as a time of grieving, of uncertainty. But fear does not need to be the motivating factor. Love can be what guides us. We are moving from a place of I, to us. It is not necessarily an easy path, certainly not comfortable for many. But I do trust that when we collectively operative from love, from generosity, from compassion, then nothing is impossible, nothing is unbearable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lotus and boat, Vietnam - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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May we be free from fear.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">May we be free from animosity and blame.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">May we be have strength of heart, to act from a place of love, for self, for others, for all of nature, for this planet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">May we together create a new day, a new beginning for the wellbeing of all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-75493362709477224892020-04-23T10:44:00.002+05:302020-08-28T10:11:48.884+05:30Gochak in Chulichan (special video) by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stupas/Chortens, Phyang Village, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Gochak in Chulichan</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">Last February, I was visiting my best friend and head nun, Thupstan Kunzes, of Rizong Nunnery (Chulichan), the oldest nunnery in Ladakh. She has been head nun for the past 14 years with no salary, no personal money, and serious health problems. She is going next month for her second heart surgery. But that’s another story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">As I was leaving, I asked when might be the best time to observe Gochak, the Tibetan Buddhist ritual of making prostrations for great distances for three days. She suggested I return in a week or so. We hugged and I said goodbye to the young nuns and headed down the road. Before reaching the end of the valley, I saw a procession of 70 men and women performing Gochak. So much for coming back in a week or two! I had to notify Kunzes that they were coming. There was no way to pass them, as the valley is only wide enough for the river and a single dirt lane. I had to reverse for quite some time before I could turn around, another challenge on these narrow roads with steep drop-offs. Returning to Chulichan, running up the steps, up and up, breathing heavily, I told Kunzes that pilgrims were coming. We got back in my car and headed back down the valley to the group. Kunzes spoke with some folks asking if they needed or wanted tea, food, and to sleep in the nunnery. They were delighted and we left them to go prepare for 70 people to stay the night. Only in Ladakh could you house and feed 70 people with one hour’s notice. So I stayed another night as well to help with our guests. After everyone was settled, there were still empty extra rooms as men and women chose to sleep up to seven in a room, sharing mattresses, talking and laughing for hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">For Gochak, people start sometimes at 4 am making prostrations as they walk, a very slow process en route to sacred places. Many roads are closed for these days as people make there way between these areas. The purpose is multifold but includes focusing on the body, speech, and mind, laying our egos on the ground and rising up again, to gain merit for the next reincarnation, praying for the wellbeing of all sentient beings, and more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">I felt so incredibly privileged to be with the people that evening as they laughed and shared community, awakening early to begin again. I asked if I could film them and of course was welcomed with smiles. As they went by me, I could barely control my tears. It was so powerful, so moving, to witness regular folks doing physically grueling prayers as they walked, for the wellbeing of me and every other living creature, for moving beyond their own thoughts, aversions, and pains, pushing themselves forward, sharing this with their community, and letting go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">This offers me such a different perspective. The little things that I focus on that create unhappiness, the reaction to physical strenuous activities or work, complaining aloud or internally, avoiding difficult things all come into a different light. What if I looked at each challenge as prayer for myself and the wellbeing of all people, animals, insects, living things? What if I worked it with the thoughts that I am doing this for the goodness of all, no matter how difficult?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 14pt;">I see so much of this in Ladakh, where physical work, climbing up and down rock terrace walls with 50 kilo loads on your back, sitting in the hot sun all day cutting the fields while singing, and laughing, collecting cow dung daily to save for the winters….chores are done with confidence, with joy not dread, with an acceptance that this is part of life… how liberating it must be to face life from this perspective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-87414821001309284202020-04-05T06:59:00.000+05:302020-06-02T22:42:39.141+05:30"Another Kind of Living", personal interview...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-64819588549720686292019-09-20T10:02:00.000+05:302020-07-07T12:00:02.001+05:30The Practice of Generosity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connection, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;"><br />What is it really? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">I cannot find a definition that fully expresses the beauty and value of the word. The old Pali or Sanskrit word “Dana” seems a better fit. It was used in early Buddhism to describe generosity, primarily as a way to compensate teachers. The Buddha wanted people of all economic levels to have access to the dharma, so it was decided that no teacher could ever charge for offering the Buddhist teachings. Instead, Dana could be offered, meaning that folks could offer compensation as they were able and as they chose. To this day, teachers live off of faith, they teach and yet have no idea if the recipient’s generosity will be enough to pay their bills. It is an amazing and beautiful way for both sides to give and to receive, for both sides to experience the beauty and richness of the practice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">I greatly value the practice generosity and have found over the years the incredible wealth of the practice. For me, generosity is not simply offering food or drink, material things, or time, this is more sharing. True generosity is when it pushes me a bit, when I stretch my comfort zone. When I find it a little difficult to give, perhaps as I am attached to something, or it takes more effort or time than I really want, or wondering how much money I can give, or… At these times, I try to push myself to give. I never regret it. I never allow myself to question if I should have done it, etc. I give and try to focus on the feelings of that giving. I truly believe that practicing generosity is as much for myself as it is for another, and perhaps it I, the giver, who benefits the most.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">When I give something that really makes me practice letting go, then I feel I am truly practicing the act of generosity. It has been an evolving practice. I use the word practice because that’s what it takes. Originally, I would give, pushing myself a bit, and then not think about it and just let it go. I would not focus on myself or allow thoughts of what a good person I am and certainly not focus on what I might receive in return. Over time, I have learned another approach. Now, each time, I try to focus on the feeling in my heart. How does my heart smile and shine when I have given to another? When I have given something that was precious to me, offered money when needed when I too have very little, gone out of my way or comfort to drive someone somewhere when I prefer to stay alone in my precious space, whatever it is, when I focus on the real feeling within my heart I now try to bask in it. Explore the deep joyous nurturing resonance in my heart and I try to stay with it for at least one minute. I want to reinforce the incredible love and light, the true feeling of generosity while it is fresh, to reinforce the natural act of giving and its rewards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">When I first came to Ladakh, it was quite common to hear the saying “Nyrang tad ley”, or “As you like/As you wish”. I remember hitching to another village two hours away and a taxi coming along. I asked how much it would cost to get there and he responded “Nyrang tad ley”. He trusted in my generosity to take care of his needs. It was such a shift. Instead of trying to bargain for a good price, I now found myself wanting to give him more than expected because I was so impressed with his letting go and his faith in me. The simple saying “as you wish,” allowed me to then open my heart and give to him generously. We both parted with smiles and full hearts. This expression, offered so freely, is an act of generosity. I have my own desires and wishes, my own preferences, but when I can say, “Nyrang tad ley – As you wish”, I am offering this to another, to allow them the choice/preference.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladakhi woman, traditional hate by Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">In the west, I always battled with this whole concept. We are so conditioned to think about ourselves, to “protect” ourselves, to give to ourselves first. I would give and give and then I would draw back and think “What about me?” It was if there was always an internal conflict and it did not provide sustaining happiness. When we get hung up in thoughts, (that thinking problem again), we often wonder if we are being taken advantage of, or what are we getting in return, or how we always give, give, give, and get nothing in return, or that we are taken for granted, or, or, or… When we stop thinking and just let go and feel the beauty of the practice, it is one of the most powerful gifts we can give ourselves. The Dalai Lama was once asked how and when should we be generous. So many in India and when do we give? What if it is a scam where street kids are put out to beg in the streets and their pimp is keeping all the money? His response was quite simple and beautiful. Our work is to give from the heart and not question what happens after the giving. That is not our problem. I find it a great guide. The more I truly practice generosity, the stronger I feel, the more trust I have in myself, others, and the universe, the more I am able to let go of my attachments. I think it is perhaps the greatest act of love I can express for both myself and another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">I live a quiet simple life now, a 360 sq. ft. passive solar house with all I need, and still much more than I need. When I go off to travel, I go with a small 30 liter back pack, no more than 7 kilo. After months of traveling with just this I return to my home and often feel like I have too many things. Then I started a lovely tradition where I give something from my home to everyone who happens to visit. Maybe I have more wool hats than I need, or socks, or many tomatoes, or a precious basket I am not using from Belize, or more than enough dried winter vegies, or I pick some dry fresh vegies to share, or cut my one zucchini in half to share…. Letting go, letting go. So different from the previous practices of thinking I needed to stock up on things and have extras for when one wears out and can’t be replaced. It is so liberating to be able to let go of my attachments, to practice deep generosity and bask in the love I am giving myself.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">I have learned that I will always receive whatever I need. I have never been too hungry or too cold. I have always had clothes and food. I have always encountered love wherever I go, people wanting and willing to give to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">In Ladakh, reciprocity is huge. We never go to anyone’s house without taking something to offer, some biscuits or juice, something. When someone’s apricot tree is full, they share all around. Then when someone else’s is ready, they too share. So we are all able to eat lots of fresh and dried apricots all year because we continually share. Sometimes I am given fresh yoghurt; sometimes it is someone carrying water up to my house for me. When neighbors are harvesting their fields, I too join in to help, regardless of what else I had scheduled for myself that day. This is community. This is the rich and rewarding practice of generosity. It fills my heart and makes me whole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14pt;">So to all my brothers and sisters, I invite you to give to yourself, by practicing true generosity with others… and watch that relentless thinking mind that will continually push you to question. Let it go. Let it all go… With beaming love and gratitude from the Himalayas! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-60723781138850991672019-09-18T07:33:00.000+05:302020-06-02T22:46:06.430+05:30" Compassion, Love, and Life - The Power of Metta" , personal interview<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-47862720661537152552019-09-12T20:50:00.002+05:302019-09-12T20:50:40.338+05:30 Sacred Spaces - Boudhanath Stupa, Kathmandu, Nepal - Images by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 25px; text-align: start;">Boudhanath Stupa, largest and most sacred stupa outside Tibet, located on the eastern edge of Kathmandu, Nepal<br /><br />Boudhanath is a great place to stay, away from the intensity of Kathmandu, with numerous Buddhist monasteries and Tibetans refugees living within the community.</b></td></tr>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-28458937537746487972019-09-12T20:46:00.000+05:302020-06-03T14:51:40.340+05:30Faces of Ladakh, Northern India on the Tibetan Plateau - Images by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-22418050943514978082019-09-08T15:09:00.000+05:302020-07-07T11:39:53.809+05:30Gratitude<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking north along the Phyang River towards the glaciers, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from my home, Ladakh -Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> As I open my eyes this morning, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> my first thoughts are of gratitude,</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> nothing more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> How precious. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0y0BpYGJ7JU/XXTD2lYTHSI/AAAAAAAAMLs/gfCERsKUA5QuQKf0pTdyxynarJovAdSmwCLcBGAs/s1600/42900685_2192541854153261_8013326616807604224_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US"> … grateful for the mattress that cushions me, grateful for this one pair of faded ten year old cotton flannel sheets my mother gifted me years ago, grateful for my favorite pillow even older, grateful for the cool morning air as </span>it touches feel my beautiful sagging, wrinkled nude body, grateful for windows that treat these eyes to the soft color in the clouds as the sun touches their moisture, grateful for the sound or water as it sings through the valley and the birds greeting each other and the precious morning, grateful for the color green, everywhere, what calm and peace it offers, the color of wisdom, grateful for the flowers in their wild array of hues sneaking above the ledge, grateful for the aches as I move and stretch, this body that I have abused and neglected over the years but still serves me and allows me to move, work, walk, grateful for my beautiful little home with functional art from around the world, the soothing mud walls, a clay floor that gently grounds me as my bare feet tread the cool surface, grateful to be alone, grateful to awake when the beginning of day calls me with freedom to make this day what I want, when I want. Grateful to have electricity again so that I can share these thoughts and feelings with you, who gives me so much love, acceptance, support, and encouragement. Grateful to be able to share this beautiful morning with you.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stupa behind flowers, view from my home, Ladakh - Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-10083250484062973882016-02-18T19:17:00.001+05:302019-09-12T19:42:16.239+05:30Traveling Light by Kelly Klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Traveling is an excellent opportunity to explore our attachment to things and how, with a little faith and flexibility, we can travel with very little and yet have everything we need. The art of traveling, in my humble opinion, is to go as light as possible. Any traveler can tell you that the greatest hassle in moving from place to place is dealing with luggage and weight. So simplify before you leave. You will never regret it. It is our human nature to accumulate more than we need and also take more than we need. It is often difficult to let it go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">I prefer to travel light and acquire new things along the way as needed. Last winter I traveled in six different countries, starting on a sailboat in Indonesia with hot weather clothes and then arriving in New Zealand needing cold weather clothes. I stopped in a second-hand shop or two and gave away the hot clothes and replaced them with merino wool pants and tops, wool socks, scarf, and hat, fleece, etc. For $10 USD, I was able to get a new wardrobe and everything I needed. The small expense is well worth the freedom of movement and ease, both physically and spiritually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Each time I travel I learn a little more about what to take and not. Leaving Ladakh in October, I packed a backpack with less than 7 kilos (15 pounds) for four months of living and traveling. This includes clothing, toiletries, a phone, kindle, a travel camera, cords and my wallet. I previously traveled with my laptop too, but am considering an ipad next time for typing stories and research. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s-7R-hKopXs/XXpQUBPz54I/AAAAAAAAMQQ/RDG2RcBMRAssU4A30S5A307oua6SFUJiQCKgBGAsYHg/s1600/20181109_062739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s-7R-hKopXs/XXpQUBPz54I/AAAAAAAAMQQ/RDG2RcBMRAssU4A30S5A307oua6SFUJiQCKgBGAsYHg/s400/20181109_062739.jpg" width="300" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">One winter it was a month in Morocco after housesitting for nearly two months in Portugal and three weeks in Spain. Last winter it was Indonesia, New Zealand, Australia, Thailand, Laos, and Vietnam. This winter I am starting in Turkey and visiting friends in Serbia where I volunteered with refugees a few years ago, friends in Romania, and then exploring Croatia down to Greece, and visiting another friend in Tunisia before making my way home again. It doesn’t matter where or go or for how long, any trip can be done with less than 7 kilos, which is standard carry-on limit in most countries.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Traveling and living is so much easier. My bag is light weight and small, can sit on my lap in a Moroccan taxi with seven people and can be thrown over one shoulder moving about. Letting go of what we think we might need is a great release. Outside of perhaps specific medicine, anything I need is available pretty much anywhere in the world. Every culture bathes and brushes, washes clothes, wears clothing appropriate to their climate, etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;"> <span lang="EN-US">Daypack<o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;"> In general, my pack contains the following. Depending on what climate I am starting in or planning to travel in, the items will vary, but not the amount.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- a tank top and sports bra<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- two to three short sleeve tees<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- one long sleeve Henley<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- thin cotton long sleeve dressier shirt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- long sleeve button-up silk shirt (dress and warmth)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- a fleece vest (or down jacket depending on travel plans)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- a pullover rain jacket/wind breaker<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- 2 - 3 pants, fleece and cotton, (never jeans – too heavy and too hard to hand wash),<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- one scarf (for neck, sun, warmth, dress-up)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- one sarong – super important for me (see below)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- two to three underwear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- two socks (one wool, one cotton)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">- one pair Chaco sandals.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">I layer for cold and can add the wool socks with sandals if needed. I have enough to wear something while I wash the other clothes. The panya (sarong) is an invaluable item. It serves as a towel, top or bottom sheet, skirt, shawl, and I use if for carrying items for small day trips (water bottle, camera, food) rolled up and tie around my waist, for shade, and more as needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">With such few items you will definatley get bored with the same clothes and seeing yourself in pictures repeatedly with the same clothes for months, but the payoff and freedom is so worth it. And I can always give an item away when I am tired of it and replace it with something from another country, making it more meaningful and memorable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">When traveling light, the trick is to wash clothes certainly each time you bathe, like a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in the shower/bucket bath with you. The other times I will use the sink or a trash can for a wash bin. So washing out a pair of underwear a day and maybe a shirt is nothing and ready in the morning for repacking. I highly discourage jeans as they are a major pain to hand wash and wring alone and are heavy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toiletries, Traveling Light</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;"> Toiletries easily fit into a small bag or the pockets. I never carry shampoo or conditioner but buy small packet samples from local corner stores in most countries, as needed. Lately, I carry a shampoo bar I use for hair and body. With time, my hair is now happy and healthy with washing only once a week. I always carry one small travel size toothpaste which, used sparingly, can easily last me a month. I can refill my travel size by holding against and squeezing from a larger tube and giving the rest of the large tube to someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Additionally, I carry a comb, natural bristle brush, sometimes a nail clipper and file, a couple safety pins, a travel size deodorant crystal, a couple clothes pins, dental floss (always handy as a clothes line, making shelter with a sarong, or for your teeth of course), a Steripen (ultraviolet light water filter), refillable water bottle, a bamboo fork, knife, and spoon, and a headlamp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Tips:</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">One trick for packing light is to pack your bag a couple weeks ahead of time and then live out of it for the next two weeks before you go. You will get a really good sense of what you need and what you don’t. You will then know what you can leave behind or what you may have forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">I also roll my clothes as it seems to pack much tighter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Additionally, despite your natural instincts, do not take your favorite clothes. This way, while traveling, you can give things away when you realize you have too much. You can always pick up new and unique things as needed along the way. No matter what I take with me, I learn that I can pare down even more. It is so much easier to pack and travel light and give and take things as needed. Wherever you go, people wear clothes and have the basic items needed for daily life. It is just a matter of letting go a bit and adapting to each place. When I travel with my Buddhist monk friends, they go with just a shoulder bag. It always impresses me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Always have money and credit cards and passport copies in a variety of places so you never lose everything in case of disaster (robbery, boat flipping over, car crash, or forgetfulness – leaving your bag at the train station).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Let go! Don’t worry about the hows and what ifs?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Expect and trust in the goodness of all others you meet and your own karma.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Smile, smile, smile!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Papyrus; font-size: 14pt;">Learn a few words, at least, to show effort and respect to the local culture (I recommend: hello, thank you, please, no problem, goodbye, and always fun to know and give the blessing for a sneeze).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-26227880635601667992015-12-29T15:11:00.000+05:302019-09-08T10:46:37.865+05:30Heart Wisdom, Native American Code of Ethics<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "arial black"; font-size: 16.0pt;">Native American Code of Ethics</span><span style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">1. Rise with the sun to
pray. Pray alone. Pray often. The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">2. Be tolerant of those
who are lost on their path. Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy and greed stem
from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">3. Search for yourself,
by yourself. Do not allow others to make your path for you. It is your road,
and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">4. Treat the guests in
your home with much consideration. Serve them the best food, give them the best
bed and treat them with respect and honor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">5. Do not take what is
not yours whether from a person, a community, the wilderness or from a culture.
It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">6. Respect all things
that are placed upon this earth - whether it be people or plant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">7. Honor other people's
thoughts, wishes and words. Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic
them. Allow each person the right to personal expression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">8. Never speak of others
in a bad way. The negative energy that you put out into the universe will
multiply when it returns to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">9. All persons make
mistakes. And all mistakes can be forgiven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">10. Bad thoughts cause
illness of the mind, body and spirit. Practice optimism.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">11. Nature is not FOR
us, it is a PART of us. They are part of your worldly family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">12. Children are the
seeds of our future. Plant love in their hearts and water them with wisdom and
life's lessons. When they are grown, give them space to grow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">13. Avoid hurting the
hearts of others. The poison of your pain will return to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">14. Be truthful at all
times. Honesty is the test of ones will within this universe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">15. Keep yourself
balanced. Your Mental self, Spiritual self, Emotional self, and Physical self -
all need to be strong, pure and healthy. Work out the body to strengthen the
mind. Grow rich in spirit to cure emotional ails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">16. Make conscious
decisions as to who you will be and how you will react. Be responsible for your
own actions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">17. Respect the privacy
and personal space of others. Do not touch the personal property of others -
especially sacred and religious objects. This is forbidden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">18. Be true to yourself
first. You cannot nurture and help others if you cannot nurture and help
yourself first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">19. Respect others
religious beliefs. Do not force your belief on others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">20. Share your good
fortune with others. Participate in charity.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;">This
originally appeared in the "Inter-Tribal Times," October, 1994</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "chalkboard";"><span style="font-size: 19px;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TK058HMiKfA/XXSOR7SymiI/AAAAAAAAMFI/FiOR2kM9M0wS4f1lknsJWsVHnuMfg9bUQCKgBGAs/s1600/P1140116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="994" data-original-width="1600" height="397" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TK058HMiKfA/XXSOR7SymiI/AAAAAAAAMFI/FiOR2kM9M0wS4f1lknsJWsVHnuMfg9bUQCKgBGAs/s640/P1140116.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "chalkboard"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-43697742874179607872014-07-16T19:02:00.001+05:302014-07-16T19:02:46.205+05:30Wise Speech Quote from the Dhammapada<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">Better than a thousand
meaningless statements</span><span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">Is one meaningful word</span><span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">Brings peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">- Dhammapada 100
(translated by Gil Fronsdal)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Konchok in Prayer<br /> (young Buddhist monk in Ladakh, northern India)<br /> by Kelly Klein</td></tr>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-7235098335797908902014-07-08T21:30:00.000+05:302019-09-08T10:49:17.734+05:30"A Precious Human Life" by His Holiness the Dalai Lama - Kelly Klein, www.thejourneyishome.com<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Every day, think as you wake up:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">"Today I am fortunate to have
woken up.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">I am alive, I have a precious
human life.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">I am not going to waste it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1HFrPbOWVnc/XXSPPxUbWEI/AAAAAAAAMFQ/5vza0mgsof0hxaJY1fPFeETU57q8hazngCKgBGAs/s1600/526253_308579012549564_1570873499_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="649" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1HFrPbOWVnc/XXSPPxUbWEI/AAAAAAAAMFQ/5vza0mgsof0hxaJY1fPFeETU57q8hazngCKgBGAs/s320/526253_308579012549564_1570873499_n.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">I am going to use<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">to expand my heart out to others,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">to achieve enlightenment for <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">the benefit of all beings.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">I am going to have<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;">His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "papyrus"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<form action="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify" method="post" onsubmit="window.open('http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=TheJourneyIsHome', 'popupwindow', 'scrollbars=yes,width=550,height=520');return true" style="border: 1px solid #ccc; padding: 3px; text-align: center;" target="popupwindow">
Enter your email address:<br />
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<input name="uri" type="hidden" value="TheJourneyIsHome" /><input name="loc" type="hidden" value="en_US" /><input type="submit" value="Subscribe" />Delivered by <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/" target="_blank">FeedBurner</a></form>
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<span style="font-family: "telugu mn"; font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2177746415243064344.post-70304080208586137912014-06-22T19:30:00.000+05:302014-07-08T22:32:17.920+05:30Padma, Young Tibetan Buddhist Monk, Ladakh - by kelly klein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCbLHN9G3a4/U6bgn-p_meI/AAAAAAAADTw/cuKi8Sn2tWY/s1600/P1130630+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCbLHN9G3a4/U6bgn-p_meI/AAAAAAAADTw/cuKi8Sn2tWY/s1600/P1130630+-+Version+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Padma</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;">Ladakh,
a region of Northern India on the Tibetan Plateau rich in traditional Buddhist
culture, needs skilled and novice volunteers for teaching English, alternative
energy projects, environmental education, teacher training, and fundraising for
books, classroom construction, and educational and medical needs of young Buddhist
monks and nuns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;">Please
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 26.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;"><a href="http://www.volunteerladakh.org/">www.volunteerladakh.org<o:p></o:p></a></span></div>
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<style>
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table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
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<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;">Together
we can make a difference.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Telugu MN"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Papyrus;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Kelly Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16802830823903043153noreply@blogger.com2