It’s fitting that on my last full night in Sri Lanka, I should have been befriended by a religiously mystic lawyer in the spice aisle of a grocery store.
He stopped me with the simple observation “You look like you’ve traveled to India.” And then “Have you seen the Himalayas?” I’m still unsure if the first was a compliment, considering I was quite smelly and dirty while traveling in India, and have no idea how he picked up on it. We commenced talking about the Himalayan foothills in Darjeeling, American corporatocracy, international relations, and how, exactly, I ended up looking for spices in a Cargills at 8pm in Nugegoda. “You’re special,” he said, clearly holding nothing back. “You were Sri Lankan in your last life, I can see it. That’s why I had to stop and talk to you.” Well…gosh. Thanks, mister.
Really, my whole summer has been characterized by serendipitously landing upon many such absurdities, both emboldening and embarrassing, good and bad, and my task has been to accept and take in stride the seemingly dialectically-opposed nature of…pretty much everything. As a good example, the lawyer was as conversant in the details of the South Asian Agreement on Regional Cooperation (SAARC) as he was about the finer aspects of forgiveness, the nature of prayer and divine blessings, and the process of seeking our purpose in life. I feel, rather simplistically, perhaps, that our drive-to-specialize in America gives us the impression that extra-disciplinary pursuits such as these are frivolous, and that to succeed, we must devote our entire selves to one pursuit. Most lawyers I know wouldn’t really care to make pilgrimages to the holy sites of a religion that is not their native one, in a land that is far away, for example. This man had just returned from one such trip, and it was clear to me that such people can teach me a lot about which values are worth maintaining and which are less important. Bridging the gap between the metaphysics of a mystic religion (in this guy’s case, some combination of Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism, as far as I could gather) and the nuts-and-bolts requirements of a career in law is a task this man seems to have a good grasp on. I can do without the chaotic divinity, I think, but I would nonetheless love to continue learning to recognize and step around, if necessary, the dialectic divisions my culture and upbringing have instilled in me.
So, what have I learned here? I’ve had innumerable realizations and epiphanies and have only begun to recount them in this blog. I’ve also felt up a great number of feelings, emotions, and sensations I’ve never felt before, which is important and startling for someone who spends so much of his time thinking in words and certainties.
Not all of my experiences have been good, and I’ll certainly need a couple weeks to decompress before I can, out of good faith, write anything about the bad aspects of my time here, if I even feel it’s necessary to do so. What I do know, however, is that I’ve not learned nearly enough. Every day, every train ride, every alleyway explored – each had something to offer me, and this summer has been overflowingly-ripe with opportunities for me to learn what I have to offer in return. It’s a strange, scary, fantastic process of growing up (!) that I’ve touched on here, and I’ve done my best to keep growing as positively as I could, in response to the great, the good, the bad, and the ugly. In fact, I believe that the moment we cease feeling we are students of the world is the moment we cease to be forces of good, and that it is by (intelligently) drinking fully of what the world has to offer that we become useful to our fellow humanity.
On my last day, I spent my time with my boss and his family and dozens of their friends as they celebrated the twelfth birthday of their daughter. This was a wonderful way to be sent off, and I was reminded that no matter the occasion, a bold combination of food, fun, and friends is the surest way to make it an auspicious one. The joy of the group was palpable, and since the birthday was seen, halfway seriously, as the “most important day of the year!”, it was a wonderful opportunity to once again be reminded that happiness in life is compounded (with interest) by sharing it with family and close friends.
I’ve also come to realize with greater clarity that the past six or seven years of my life have been characterized by what I can only think of as a myopic view at what is wrong with modern humanity, and my work has been towards understanding how we can remedy our myriad ills. What I’ve almost-completely failed to do is to really take stock of the powerful beauty and wonderful trends that still exist and are still maintaining their sovereignty despite being assaulted by the negative forces of the world. As I sat tonight on my veranda, for the last time, I watched the wind whip the giant banana leaves into ribbons and felt a sense of moment-ness that I’ve graced only a few times this summer. I was reminded that despite the violence that characterizes the modern world system, much good still happens. Those ribbon-leaves will still photosynthesize tomorrow! My work is cut out for me: sucking the marrow out of life, as it stands, requires a much greater approach than what I’ve known thus far. It’s time for me to not fall into the same old patterns, and to start living a life of joy, happiness, and wisdom. My journey has taken me 9,000 miles from home for three months, and it has given me the courage to do this. And now I’m coming home!
