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FROM TOURIST TO PILGRIM
BY LAVINIA PLONKA
pilgrims walking hundreds of miles
to come to a miraculous shrine, or I have spent many years on what some may call a spiritual quest, asking the birthplace of a saint. What a myself the questions, "Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?" waste of time, why if you drive Occasionally, I have had glimpses of truth, moments when, sometimes due there, you can see more shrines to my own efforts, other times as if by chance, I am pierced by an in one day. But you can't drive understanding beyond the ordinary state. In these rare moments, I know up this mountain. I continued my connection to everything that exists, I am no longer separate. Like a skyward. wave in the ocean, I am part of a greater reality, and yet myself. These rare After about two thousand stairs, a experiences create a thirst for more, and yet, like most Westerners, I have shift occurred. My breath was no always been far from willing to sacrifice my attachment to the very things longer ragged. Although I could that pull me away from my possibilities - comfort, egotism, vanity, passions feel my heart beating, it was nol and self-indulgence among others.
pounding from effort. The air
One day, on a meditation around me seemed to vibrate, my I realized that I had spent most of my retreat, I found my inner hearing and my vision became
voice whining. When will i more acute. My mind was clear life trying to figure out the answers
find the answers? When will and with a shock, I realized that instead of just sitting and allowing
I find peace? What should was alive. I had come to that rar
I try next? What is the occasional place where there w myself to not know
right direction? On and on, no longer separation betwe
I blabbered inwardly to what I call I and the universe. myself, while sitting quietly and looking for all the world like I was deeply I was overwhelmed byt in meditation. I couldn't have been more shocked when my wandering wisdom of the ancient temp mind suddenly became silent. I realized that I had spent most of my life builders. Even though I had re trying to figure out the answers instead of just sitting and allowing myself nothing about Jainism, I sudden to not know. I had really never faced the mystery of life with an open understood sacrifice, simplicit mind. Just like planning my career, or what's for dinner, I had an attitude quiet. My instinct told me, and about how to achieve inner peace. In that striking moment of inner quiet, reading later confirmed that I decided to go to India. Without a plan, without a tour, or a seminar with Jains built their temples neart a noted guru, without a companion. I took a small bag, a small map and sky in order to help the pilgri prayed that I would be shown a direction. I made a pact with myself that use the climb to come closer would try to listen for the way, instead of filling my trip with agendas.
himself. This moment was just One evening, I found myself in Palitana. I knew absolutely nothing about taste, but it created a hunger Jainism, except that there was supposedly an extraordinary temple I should something that can't be satisfi! visit. By chance. I met a Jain who insisted that in order to really experience with money, food or pleasure. Palitana, I had to begin at 4:30 AM. Right. The last time I had gotten up I finally reached the top, the at that hour was....well, I actually couldn't remember. He offered to take me crimson sun was just beginning # up to the temples, so I casually said, "Great, then you can wake me up," not paint the sky, its first brilliant ray thinking that anyone REALLY gets up at 4:30 AM.
softly illuminating the sea of temple The next thing I remember is an insistent knocking at my door. I couldn't even read my alarm clock, I was so clouded in sleep.
I had come to that rare, occasional pla I staggered out into the darkness with my lain friend and began
where there was no longer separatio the ascent. Three thousand steps is an abstraction that the body cannot comprehend. You just start walking. I climbed in silence, between what I call I and the univer ascending towards the black dome of sky. its millions of diamond stars piercing a blanket free of urban light pollution. The In an age when more and more only sound was the soft scuff of pilgrims' bare feet, the clank of an Westerners are searching for occasional walking stick.
meaning, Jainism offers an ancient Conversation became pointless. The effort of continuing to climb upward pragmatic, quiet and beautiful path and ever upward had silenced both my tongue and my chattering mind. for self study. Yet it is virtually Just put one foot in front of the other. The notion of pilgrimage had always unknown in the West. I have a seemed silly to me. Why walk when you can ride? I would read about dream - to make a beautiful and
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lain Spirit. July - September 1999
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