Three important book, of various kinds and origins.
1) Taisho/early Showa era commercial art about which I am quite fascinated – plus, the cover reminds me of my wife // this era of Japan before militarism took over and there was for a brief golden time with a burgeoning international mindset, a “jazz age” of sorts, s3xual opennesses and class conventions dissolving. Curious to peruse the book further
2) “Confidential” one of the many journals, scrapbooks, scribble books, diaries etc. I filled up this year with words of course, but also items, dried flowers, artifacts and memos… Reminding myself that I didn’t “publish” a lot beyond my own channels, yet I created a lot of material, it’s just confidential for now // ps seen behind is the Shawn Parkinson designed print issue of Narwhal from Vancouver
3) 70 from my dear sensei Larry Harper who introduced a 17-year-old high school dropout at the community college that creative writing is a noble endeavor and life pursuit. This is his book “70” with appropriately, 70 different components including short plays, poems (long and short), stories of various lengths, and lists – it’s very punk rock as there is no ISBN, UPC barcode, not available on that major international book reseller. And yes, there’s shades of me in here, including a blurb, a riff and an inscription
Expired Yugoslavian Passport turned secret diary of poetry & ephemera, shared with a friend never met (like most of you) in Gifu. He’s from BC and met my brother in another life, somehow. Heck of a writer.
Anyhow, we fill up pages as desired and mail back and forth like a secret for everyone to see.
Intro / Disclaimer (longer than actual notes): I hesitate to publish this flashback diary, not because I fear away from my notion of embracing translucency in personal archaeology, but rather because these are notes from the first couple of days and after sort of a disconnected start (keep in mind, I had just come out of several weeks of fairly solitary time at an Ayurveda hospital).
Anyhow my (I don’t know how to say it) my “community building instincts” kicked in and I made friends with some fun Italians who had a house and some herb, we did some slacker yoga, met a young Indian man studying sustainable architecture and connected him with the wider hemp as a building material community which has gone on to be fruitful relationships, met some wonderful wise elder ladies from Iceland and Switzerland, sort of fell into my rhythm.
Matrimandir thatta way
Plus, I learned logistics about “how to live there which basically is “if you can contribute something, you can make it happen”.
So this part of the story which sounds a little bit bleak and, in many ways is accurate though as in recent times (as a round this up in 2022,) there are emerging and ongoing controversies about how a place like this should be governed which brings in a lot of questions about privilege, colonialism, ecology, status of the land itself, the intentions of founders (and how much that matters and how is to be interpreted), which all brings tension between long timers, and newer inter-lopers, and the people around the international enclave who are just living and trying to make the best of their life in a larger country which still kind of figuring out who wants to be in the bigger world.
oh here is Matrimandir
So,… there’s this part of the story and then the part where I had to leave suddenly upon the passing of my mother and make a rapid trip to Utah, (talk about culture shock!), on the middle, there were some pleasantness which I’ll try to articulate along the way under separate cover.
In short, I found that there was a need for archivists, librarians, radio talkers, communications types and I suddenly saw how I might fit in and disappear there forever.
Of course I loaded up on artifacts, ephemera and items from the bookstore with the teachings of the founders and various dispatchers and missives about peace and community. (Some made it in to a scrapbook chronicling the heart-wrenching trip from India to Utah and beyond).
I’m saying this because there’s a lot more to say but in the meantime I was also dealing with the crisis of the withdrawal of Rs.1000 and Rs.5000 bank notes from circulation which resulted in empty bank machines, and no way to get cash (which was particularly amusing/ironic in this cashless society when one really needed cash to not use cash – but without a bank account well… folks were flying to Sri Lanka just to exchange money and come back which seems to defeat the whole point of an ecologically sustainable and equitable community!).
As fate (if that’s a thing) had it, things went differently, very differently, but this place remains in my head as I try to sort out the conundrum to address here on these first tentative days, but also in my heart simply for the fact that this kind of “unique/weirdness” exists.
I hope to return, or maybe not, I just hope something like this exists in some utopian form. Yep, one can dream right?
Added a few snapshots in here, others will go in a sort of “in between days” post” (pardon my notes to self).
So far, its much more intense than intentional. Can a community grow into a city without bureaucracy, boards, meetings, committees, resolutions, motions, applications, infighting, mandatory contributions and acronyms?
Seems perhaps not, or is it? It seems not. Or is it rule dependent? Or personality driven?
But strong leaders go rogue and sex and power corrode.
Frequent complaining, loud motorbikes, local workers and no hellos and/or Namastes.
so many cups to fill
I have tea in a stainless steel cup. Will food come to me as a notice my cane? I suspect not.
–
With respect to intention and effort, are you simply trading one framework for another with new names?
–
various shrines but not “religious”
The spirituality if any is in the background. “Love” is the word but not evident in action. No hugs, no warmth, not cold communication but hardly an emotional symbiotic place or perhaps not physically evident.
–
Now, one full day in… Awaiting dinner after fumbling through woods on a dark trail. Why am I so unsatisfied? All afternoon scrapbooking, letter/package making-is it that I don’t understand this place yet? The only people who come to talk are other new people or “tourists”.
restaurants are neither businesses nor not-businesses, cash is no cash but cash
I get that long timers make this community for themselves and not for passers-thru but, still… This is neither a spiritual holy land nor brilliantly efficient or revolutionary self-sufficient nor rock ‘n’ roll fun nor artsy-craftsy-though all those elements exist.
No “religion” per se but cult of work-that’s sort of OK-not warm but not clinical. No hugs still, no hellos or help all day long. So many complainers!
Even at the visitor center-everyone is on mobile’s-services spread out making wearing motorcycles and scooters necessary. Townhall was well, a Townhall. You change money for a card with Receipts and *sign here* for everything.
I buy and read all the books and I’m down with the charter and respect and work but somehow it feels oddly-indifferent to outsiders no doubt and unashamed to say-a shortage of houses but no quick prefab dwellings.
Old ideas are cool with local artisans but if a shortage is thwarting progress from only 2800-ish to a projected (and seemingly unreasonable 50,000) how well it scale?
I don’t care as I like small but masterplan seems dependent on a few “lions” and long timers. Sure it makes sense in a traditional conventional sense but it all seems so fragile and rather self-congratulatory while more or less like the old west of the myths of America – pioneer families incorporating a new town while carpet-baggers roll in often with new ideas and are branded “newcomers” even after a decade or so.
New arrivals who wish to settle are vetted after a year or longer. You have to contribute *something* of value (skills, building, biz…) which the community deems needed.
But the “community leadership” is nebulous and confused (from my vantage point). The newbs post bond in form of an air ticket home – your “home” isn’t here, it’s where you “come from” not like rainbow gatherings where the greeting is “welcome home” – maybe because of the outside political situation, hedging bets with a “punt play”.
The pain and guilt of socioeconomic class is palatable and unresolved.
Yet here I feel so alone despite surrounded by people for the first time in weeks. But no eye contact no warmth – to me at least.
Now I will eat and hope it’s just a bad day despite a walk to the visitor center, watching an introductory film, purchasing books with rupees for which change is difficult, chatting on blankets and towel, getting “non-cash” card, buying items to eat: pears and curd and cookies on bed while I listen to favorite music but all I think is “I am lost.”
Memo: What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.
Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble Introduction” video for context on this series.
Memo: What follows is transcribed from my diary very shortly after my stay, more or less verbatim, at the risk of being redundant, i have previously shared:
Along my healing journey, I received treatment had the most wonderful Ayurveda Health Home in Pokhara, Nepal.
This company operates two facilities, one in Kathmandu and one in Pokhara where i did my treatment [update: subsequently built a 3rd clinic which looks like a wonderful mix of the 2 and maybe this one is no longer operating?].
The hospitals are part of a German-Nepal partnership. As such, the facility ran on a very prompt German-like schedule, but with exceptionally diligent Ayurvedic practitioners, including several full-time doctor/medical officers.
On the way to AHH
The chief amongst their practitioners is the world-famous Dr. Rishi [update: RIP] – a most elegant and graceful man who emanated healing energy and power. While he is primarily based at the Kathmandu facility, he flew to Pokhara for my intake for which I was very grateful.
Me with Dr Rishi on my “out-take” review in Kathmandu / bless his memory
He had thoroughly reviewed my medical file in advance (including notes from Dr. Veena’s Ayurveda and my tests in Phitsanulok), and the intake was several hours long starting with a long discussion about my symptoms, background and objectives, followed by a massage, then an *extremely thorough* physical inspection.
I should mention that I had originally intended to go back to India and Dr. Veena’s Ayurmantra but for some strange reason, my Indian Visa was declined creating a rapid change of travel plans which became *a little bit expensive* and complicated but I worked through it all by adding in a wander through Malaysia after more hospital tests and treatment in Thailand, OK carry-on…
The days were very busy, but very well organized. I would receive very complete instructions, hands-on, for each of the different treatments, which I would later self-administer.
These included various mouth cleanings, nose cleanings, eye cleanings, eye exercises, meditation, and so on. I also received a series of instructional sessions about the overarching concepts of Ayurveda – the history, background, purposes and information about doshas and the importance of the mind/spirit/body connection.
also Tulsi tea, water and various potions
I also participated on one-on-one yoga sessions. The yoga was very gentle and suited for my body and condition. Rather than complicated poses, started with very simple joint rotations and was very calm rather than stressful experience. (Note: it seems strange to call yoga “stressful“ but doing complicated poses and rapid movement is very difficult for me – as i found later at Peacock Ayurveda Garden).
I received dozens of different kinds of massage, with different oils, different techniques, sometimes two practitioners working on me at once, herbal poultices, salt poultices…
photographing my progress #peace and #mustache
I also went through an extensive series of enemas (don’t freak out)… some to cleanse and some to fortify. It was pretty intense to say the least but I was extremely well supported through the process, and my diet gradually build back up from thin rice porridge and herbal tea, to more substantial food, before I would rejoin the rest of the group for more standard meals.
A warm and welcoming table to convene with other patients
Memo: What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.
Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble Introduction” video for context on this series.
Gist: Along my healing journey, I sought treatment at Peacock Ayurveda Clinic in Dikwella (map to Peacock), close to noteworthy Galle, in southern Sri Lanka. I stayed in-patient for three weeks for a complete “panchakarma“ program.
Background: Certainly, Ayurveda has a number of different flavours in terms of quality and type of the facilities… Ranging from “spa-like“ facilities catering primarily to relatively wealthy or western clientele, to very spartan and rustic, often government-run, facilities treating local people (see Dissanayake diary).
later, items in my scrapbook
Can be difficult to find the exact right fit mixing with medical needs but with comfort and safety enough to have a relatively enjoyable and stress-free period of time.
This is especially important because doing an extended panchakarma (five medicines) program as it can be rather intense. You are quite literally cleaned out inside and out, and your days are quite packed from early morning onwards with yoga, meditation, meals, doctor consultations, various massages, eye, ears, and nose cleaning, and some of the treatments, let’s just say can be rather “delicate“ or even rather embarrassing. Further, the effects of the treatment can be very intense and lay one out for a couple of days.
I researched a lot of different facilities around Sri Lanka and ended up on this one which seemed, from the outside, to be a good fit for me. While overall it was not near as fulfilling of an experience at my time in Ayurveda Health Home in Nepal or Dr Veena’s Ayurmantra in India, it was a learning experience.
“darling, i’am off to a rejuvenating Pachakarma treatment, see you in a two weeks”
Grounds / Facilities: Of the four different (at the time) Ayurveda facilities at which I received treatment, this one was definitely the most fancy and spa-like.
oh hi buddha
There was a pool (which frankly I was really never able to use but that’s cool), lounge chairs, beautifully manicured gardens with flowers in abundance, and overall the facility was very splendid, filled with interesting antiques, and the patient rooms were like a very nice hotel rooms, even with a private patio area for sitting and resting.
the grounds were immaculate and yes sometimes peacocks
Treatments / Schedule: The treatments were performed in a variety of traditional style huts, which were quite functional as well as charming. Each day, I was issued a fresh sarong and shirt and hat as the treatments are very oily. Additionally, I was given a basket of tiny disposable underwear to wear during the treatments.
treatment rooms and tables
Most days, I would have a short consultation with either the senior doctor (a gentleman who was very busy and often/mostly offsite) or a junior doctor (a young lady who was clearly still learning and mostly observing but very kindly).
Dave working on healing at Peacock Ayurveda near Galle, Sri Lanka (with Dr.)
Memo: What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.
Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble, introduction” video for context on this series.
(also riffs already from Thailand, India etc + tips about pros/cons and how-to logistics coming…)
Notes & Travel Tactics / summary
Comfort Kit and crash kit
Flight time: afternoon or energy time (no early or late night)
Airport hotels with bathtub for pre and post flight … wheel right to checkin
One place and be part of community
Postcard and scrapbooks along the way … send home by Post offices
Playlists
Stretches – aisle seat
Massage
Coconut water/hydration
Wheelchair service
Block out airport stimulation (blue specs, ear plugs… )
Break it up / short hops, stay over
Medication CBD/RSO (but don’t take it with you!)
First on, Last off
Pack extra light, easy schlepp, buy stuff if needed and ditch it)
Travel uniform (slippers, compression socks, track suit, slip on shoes
Pick the right place
Places to get medical help: Thai, India, seems weird but…
As I’m stumbling along on my “healing ramble” series (please watch the intro video for overview and disclaimers, not unusually, finding myself a little bit overwhelmed with all the artifacts, memories, items, even data, to share. So, rather than obsess over it just putting it all out there, even if it’s a bit redundant.
The next “real” dispatches from the series include my “tips for travelling with a chronic illness” (which is rather practical and logistical stuff), plus another entry from Sri Lanka, another from Nepal, a tough one from Pacifica California, more from other places i forgot and maybe I’ll even fill in the missing gaps from Adelaide Australia, Austin Texas, and crossing Canada looking for a home.
In the meanwhile here are the fronts of some notebooks and a postcard which allude to some of the above.
not really at the hospital but still captures the spirit of the scene
Memo: What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.
Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble, introduction” video for context on this series.
Importantly, this is not meant to be a travelogue or creative writing exercise, just laying out my experience as it came to me. I may include some links to other projects or creations that came out of this, maybe… I’m not there yet.
This entry, from is from Galle Sri Lanka, late 2017 and written in the weeks following. It’s now April 2022, i live in Japan, am stable if far from “normal”. No comments, sympathy requested or accepted. Carry on.
I attended this hospital for Ayurveda treatments for some weeks during Dec. 2017-Jan 2018 and was treated by a kind practitioner called Ruwan. I also met with a wise Doctor who recommended I do a longer in-patient Panchakarma program here, but… some life situations changed and i didn’t do the program. I saw the rooms and talked to the doctors and while it was very spartan and not cozy, the staff seemed to be very intent on their practice.
Dissanayake Ayurvedic Hospital: Lobby
Routine: Mr. Prem dropped me off via his Tuk-tuk (he introduced me to the facility in the first place), i then went to a window to announce myself (to everyone’s great surprise!) and then sat in the waiting area. Mr. Ruwan would come back from lunch, i would strip down to underwear and lay down on a wooden table (covered with a vinyl sheet) in a shared room with folks coming and going for massage with loads and loads of oil.
Memo: Above comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.
Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble, introduction”” video for context on this series.
Importantly, this is not meant to be a travelogue or creative writing exercise, just laying out my experience as it came to me. I may include some links to other projects or creations that came out of this, maybe… I’m not there yet.
This entry was in Pokhara, Nepal, early 2017, written as a letter to someone i met along the way facing health challenges of their own. I never heard back but whatever…
(finally) organized and published spring 2022 – i now live in Japan, am stable if far from “normal”. No comments, sympathy requested or accepted. Carry on. Note: There’s another post with a review and brief introduction to Ayurveda Health Home as well.
daveo
Dear [Redacted],
I’ll speak frankly and candidly from my own experience, all of us are different of course – for the record I am at an Ayurvedic clinic in Pokhara, Nepal.
Background:
a medical diagram of me
Like you, and most everyone else with a chronic complex medical conundrum, I’ve spent all the time since my “trigger event” seeking out various treatments.
From overmatched GP doctors, to the anticipation of finally getting into see a “specialist” and the disappointment crash following when they still have more answers than questions, spending everything you got to see various naturopaths, chiropractors, reiki practitioners, massage therapists, nutritionalists… with little to no long-term benefit, spending sleepless nights reading medical abstracts & journals as though you understand them, seriously considering going in significant debt to go to a “fancy famous” hospital, putting up with family and “friends” advice (occasionally well-meaning) but always useless and often completely disrespectful, using up every bit of energy reserves on a daily basis just to get through the day and hopefully feel some vague sense of satisfaction or accomplishment when really you’re just spinning, seeing the stress it causes on lovers and partners who try their best to understand but crack under the pressure from time to time, and acknowledging your own mental well being — which starts to fragment from exhaustion, frustration and so many (often professional) people telling you that it’s “all in your head”.
I made a penciled flowchart of my various options before I headed out this last time, ergo:
(very frank) life options
Shall I do just what the Western doctors and insurance companies want me to do hide myself in a rainy apartment with old folks down the hall filling the lobby with smell of soup?
Go down in flames with late nights of parties and decadence pushing myself to the very limits knowing that it doesn’t really matter if I wake up tomorrow (I’m just not that self-destructive)?
Or, beg borrow and steal to see the litany of well-meaning but wholly ineffective naturopaths, chiropractors, Reiki practitioners, nutritionists blah blah blah? (I have largely done this and have fallen deeply into debt as a result)
Or do I continue this sorta strange wandering life of seeking healing in foreign lands while playing the “cat and mouse” game with the insurance thugs who wish to control me? I guess this choice won for the time being so i’ll break down the problems in the categories:
Financial (the cost of simply living coupled with the cost of getting treatment)
Treatment (access to reliable and useful services when you need them)
Climate (some of us do better and different weather, as well the “political” and social stress of environment)
Community (the first year or so it can seem that you have a support network but as years go on, this breaks down and begins to vanish having a net negative affect)
Global Brigadoon Index ™
My experience:
My “western diagnosis” is fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome/M.E. This all started in May 2013 so I’m coming up on four years. My diagnoses usually affects women and there is support groups etc. have been primarily women, bless their hearts.
Nov. 29, 2016, 9:04 AM, Auroville, Tamil Nadu, India – i ordered this coffee and turned on phone…
Note: transcribed with light editing from my scribbled journal made in “real time” as always more to say but this is what is there is – read between lines, follow rabbit holes to fill in the blanks if curious. (will add more about Auroville at some point and more about dear Mom’s passing including my letters to her and obituary within)
After a visit to Townhall and Mathrimandir, near the visitor centre, hot coffee in small brass cup, turn on the pocket robot and (oddly) a barrage of messages on all channels, so many – I am confused (hithero ignored) – then email/every-messaging-channel – I read the first line, baffled but know something is terrible! so try to call brother Anders.
the day before, visiting golden dome dedicated to motherly love #sigh
Calls (over dodgy internet) are made and calls are dropped again and again after 3 words – finally, i hear “what” and say “Chennai airport, open the envelope, four hours” fast – go! {The envelope in Vegas contains access to Dashlane app which has all passwords credit cards and passport and a friend who is so good and helpful from home HQ.}
I just learned. The very worst news. Love her so much forever.
My location wasn’t on itinerary and no matter, no coverage anyhow. I was on my way to a post office to mail a dossier to Nick Bantock and then to the golden temple of meditation and somehow it all happened.
accomms in Auroville, met folks from many countries, enjoyed activities after a confusing start. i could *stay* here – i have skills
Hustle back to “Joy Community House” breathlessly explain. Return card to townhall. (Kind ladies hug me and give me “rescue remedy” in a glass bottle. I was just getting familiar and how do you explain this to someone? How do we humans know how to react. Grateful for wise ladies).
Bundle gear from cute room
Quick shower ("I will need this," he says from experience)
Call a taxi quicker
ring a taxi, try to make my situation understood, i look at my shoes
Fast to Chennai
Buy a bag of fruit from roadside, gogo man! eat bananas.
Shaking queasy, drink two coconuts en route
3 anna half hours weaving between cows
Coming the busses directly ahead! Fck Honk!
Roadhouses and truck stops and urine stained curbs and fields
Smoke two beedies each stop
Quick quick!
– dave in taxi
At airport, taxi drivers lounge around their classic sleds – i want to stay and ask them to take me far away. I don’t care to leave *at all*.
