My Journey Continues in Choibalsan

These last three months have witnessed a transition phase from certain American living to a less definite foreign engagement.  I have traveled to several continents before:  Europe, Africa and Central America.  I have connected with certain places more than others.  I often reflect on my connection to the Caribbean lifestyle:  the people, the food, the culture, the region.  The connection is so strong that I intend on buying and running a hostel in Belize, Panama or Costa Rica sometime in the next few years, along with my brother and dad.  Does this mean the experiences of Europe, Africa and Asia are of any less value?  Of course not.  It shows that we are all individuals that have deeper connections with certain people, places and objects, some more than others.  I never expected to be living in Mongolia at this time of my life; I never expected to be living in Mongolia at all.  But God has a way of laying out our life path.

On August 12 we found out where we would be working the next two years in Mongolia.  Over the last three months, I made many close friends and acquaintances.  When I left Washington I didn’t know how I would respond to being away from those I’ve been closest to my whole life.  I hadn’t ever left my close ties for longer than a month and a half.  This, to me, was my biggest challenge going into the Peace Corps.  When we had our orientation days back in Washington D.C. in May, we met the rest of the M24s we would be connected to for the rest of our service.  I didn’t know who I would meet or what to expect.  I came in with a very individualized mindset of personal evolution, seeing new relationships as pawns to my own chess game of experience.  I remember going out the night of May 29^th with Adam, Ben, Aaron, Cal and Karissa to a bar in D.C. where there was a trivia night.  Adam was my roommate, and I remember having a discussion with Cal about Wyoming and Karissa about something else.  I remember getting sliders and fries that night, along with a few cervesas.  That entire time I was thinking of the adventure ahead and about the relationships I had left behind.  But I started to connect with the M24s around me, grasping onto common goals and aspirations.  The relationships only grew stronger from the flight over to Final Center Days.

The next three months I drew close to several M24s, and as an entire group, all of us came to know each other quite well.  We didn’t bring up the past too often.  I barely know the history of those I claim closest to me.  But we had a connection, one of adventure, of transformation, of leaving home to embrace the unknown.  All of us were in this together, no matter our past.  It was relieving, the fact that we could start over how we wanted and not get caught up in previous barriers.  We could create who we wanted to be the next two years, without any expectations, and with a blank slate.  These last three months saw new connections with people I had never met before, with past lives spread throughout America.  It now seems like I’ve known these guys for a lifetime.  I consider myself primarily an intrapersonal person, on a goal of self-discovery that has been and is the focus of my worldview.  It takes time for people to become defining figures in my life.  Every person I value as being part of my journey and is supposed to be with me at a particular time.  I don’t lose friendships gained, but the connections that were defining and strong in the past may not be as defining and strong in the present.  My high school and college friends can account for this.   Any individual can account for this, as our relationships are constantly evolving around our personal destiny.  The new relationships I formed in the Peace Corps account for a new era of relationships.  Will the strong connections last?  This is time’s judgment.  I have a few strong connections I’ve kept since high school. 

I am now living on my own, in a Soviet-styled apartment.  I have visualized living on my own the last 3-4 years since my graduation from college.  My parents can verify.  I’ve strived for independence, for that day that I can focus my attention on creating the life and destiny that I want.  Now I have it.  I have it all.  I’m in a foreign country, independent on my own, contemplating reality.  I am on my own with those closest to me at a distance away.  The safety net of relying on anybody has now disappeared.  Who do I turn to when troubles arise?  Where is my safe haven?  That will be part of my discovery.  I thank God for the Internet, for being able to communicate with those who most know me.  Is this what I wanted in the first place?  Yes.  How can I expand?  Expand into the darkness, into the depths of my own soul and the cloud of the unknowing.  The battle is between fear and love.  Fear we learned here.  Love we were born with.  We don’t remember the first three years of our life, yet the entirety of those years was spent hovering in the unknown.  Why do we fear the unknown?  Because our egos want something consistent to hold onto to increase the duration of their life.  Our identities seek to live on.  When we have no consistency to hold onto, we have to embrace the present moment, the only thing that exists.

This is an amazing journey.  I embrace every single second that presents itself.  I came here to evolve and experience truths.  This has now represented itself in a new way.  I’m in the front seat, waiting for these revelations.

2013- A Year of Change

2012- the Year of Prophecy.  Media hyped up the year as being the possible “end of the world,” December 21, 2012.  But a simple study of the origin of that prophecy shows this was a mistaken understanding.  The Mayans crafted a cyclical calendar, a belief in time that was continuous, not linear with a beginning and an end.  2012 was not the end of the world, the Mayans believed, but the end of an era.

What truth is there to this belief?  Was 2012 really the end of an era?  For my family and myself, the prophecy has proved accurate. 

The end of an era means a change from the previous era.  When one has been comfortable in the preceding era, change is arduous.  When one has been longing for a breakthrough from a previous era of hardship, change is appreciated.   Perhaps change is both.

As my mother and I were sitting in the hot tub at our house in July of 2012, we reflected on life up to the present.  We echoed memories of life back in Yelm, school, college, trips and pets.  We agreed that we were in a transition period.  It started when my older brother Cory went off to college in 2002.  It progressed when I left for college myself in 2006, and even further in 2008 with the passing of my Grandma Rothwell in July and our move to Castle Rock in August.  2008 was also the year of my first international trip, which gave me the passion for travel and resulted in later trips and eventually motivated me to take this Peace Corps voyage.  2010 was my college graduation, Cami’s high school graduation, and Cali’s transfer to Toutle Lake High School.  The adored era of my childhood was closing, only mere memories left as its legacy.  The greatest factor of change was the succession of generations.  The last 10 years had seen many of the key figures of the previous era pass away.  Many of my grandparents’ siblings and their wives had departed.  The death that had the greatest affect on me was that of my Grandma Rothwell.  The extended Rothwell family used to gather together on a regular basis for birthdays and holidays, Grandma Rothwell being the matriarch of those gatherings.  She implemented into every soul the importance of family.  When she passed, it resulted in the greatest change of tradition that our family had ever experienced.  Getting the entire family together for celebrations became much more difficult, as the grandchildren grew and started their own families.  The succession of generations. Things would continue to alter.  The next great change transpired a little over four years later, digging deep into the core of our immediate family and fulfilling the Mayan prophecy of the change of eras. 

In January of this year, my Grandma Iverson passed away.  Living with our immediate family for over 24 years, she was a defining figure of my childhood.  While Mom and Dad were at work, she helped raise us kids when we were too young to go to school.  Throughout our school years, she would always meet us outside the bus stop, with a younger sibling in the stroller.  Every week she would make cookies and treats we would enjoy, as well as entertaining a drawer full of Cadbury chocolates we so savored.  She was more than a grandparent to us, though.  She was our second mother, and to all of us, a spiritual guide.  At the core of our being she implemented love, which revealed to us a greater Love, that which is at the core of All Being.  After our move to Castle Rock, change was happening at a greater rate.  Our family was still the same as it had been for 20+ years, but we knew one day we would lose the saint of our family.  As Grandma reached her 90s, dementia was starting to become a harsh reality.  Her short-term memory was waning, but her long-term memory and spiritual being were still very sharp.  In the next couple years her long-term memory started getting foggy and greater confusion set in, not only for her, but also for the family.  Is this the sort of decline this precious woman deserved?  What is it like to “lose your mind?”  While her capability of distinction and concrete conceptions were fading, her spiritual essence remained strong.  She was praying more than ever and was constantly leaning on God’s Hand.  While her mind left, her spirituality never did.  When Grandma Iverson passed in January, the feeling of loss overtook our family.  We knew the day would come, and we prepared for her departure.  The preparing for departure and the actual event weren’t the same, however, the latter being much more difficult.  We opened up to Divine Direction, as Grandma had taught us to do, and we knew that God had a purpose in all of this.  Leaning on this understanding, we were at peace with God taking her home.

While Grandma’s death was the greatest change any of us had gone through individually and as a family, we stood ready to watch God reveal his plan.  Within the next six months we had learned of four more deaths of family and friends.  Uncle Phillip Rothwell, George Beverely Shea, Rochelle (Iverson), and our neighbor’s brother Warren had all passed.  2013 was quickly becoming the greatest year of change any of us had ever witnessed.  In January, while Grandma was in the hospital, I heard I was going to be serving in Mongolia for two years.  The initial news left me shocked.  I expected to be going somewhere closer to home in Latin America.  Hearing that I was going to be going to Asia, especially with Grandma in the hospital, left an uneasy feeling inside.  My family and I were going through this change together, and now I was going to leave them to live on the other side of the world.  Grandma’s death drew us all closer, and I feared the homesickness of being away for so long.  Nevertheless, I believed this was my Divine Path, and I was going to trust open doors as the way to my Personal Legend.  I’ve been here almost two months.  Things are being revealed to me at a great pace, and I long to know more everyday.  The wisdom I gain will be with me for the rest of my life, and I cherish every day that I’m here. 

The reason I reflect on this year is because last week I heard of another death in our family.  It wasn’t a person but a pet.  We have had many pets before:  dogs, cats, cows, birds, rabbits, and chickens.  Only a couple pets we had kept for over 10 years.  The greatest connection any of us has ever had to a family pet was to Katonna, our German Sheppard of over 14 years.  She had lived with us at our old house and was the last association we had back to our old home.  In the last professional photo our family took together at the old house, Grandma sat in the middle, while Katonna laid in front.  The photo has become a classic overnight.  Earlier this year we had found a tumor on Katonna’s stomach, and it was growing.  Just as we had expected Grandma’s death, we expected Katonna to go within the next year.  When I was making one last round to say goodbye to my home before I departed for the airport, I looked at Katonna, who was wagging her tail and talking.  Oh how she loved to talk to us!  I petted her and sent her my love.  I knew that would be the last time I saw her.  In the middle of July, Katonna’s cancer spread.  On the 18^th, she didn’t come into the garage.  Instead, she lay in the tall grass outside and wouldn’t move.  On July 19^th, six months after Grandma’s passing, Katonna died.  The next day my Dad went on a walk around the property, where Katonna usually accompanied him.  The feeling of loss was great.  While Grandma’s death created a feeling of loss in the house (and in the heart), Katonna’s death extended the feeling outside.  Katonna’s presence had been so strong for so many years, her energy transcending that of any previous pet.  This was another great loss for the family.  I’m going to miss her.  

2013 has not been the year of change, as I would like it.  When one has been comfortable in the preceding era, change is arduous.  But it takes change to progress forward; it takes great difficulties to realize greater truths.  My childhood is complete.  The previous era may have been the golden age of my life, but maybe my life can be a golden existence.  

A new era is here-- I’m excited to witness it.    

Naadam and Darkhan

It’s been a pretty demanding week.  We were in Darkhan from July 1 to July 4.  We didn’t celebrate the 4^th here, as one can assume.  Us volunteers knew of the 4^th when it came, but it didn’t have a major emphasis or even a major thought.  I reflect on the past 4^th of July celebrations, the fireworks, family, the memories.  I remember last year when my brother, my sister and me just got back from Belize and we went with our family to Lake Saskatchewea to watch fireworks.  The year before we were in Seattle watching the fireworks over Westlake.  The holidays bring reflections of memories past.

I was sick during our days in Darkhan.  I was bedridden for two days with a fever, sleepless nights of the chills, and in the bathroom many times.  While Darkhan is seen as the “Vegas” of Mongolia, at least to the volunteer perception, it was for me agony.  I did not enjoy watching my friends go out every night while I was trying to merely endure.  I missed some outings.  I also missed some classes.  Reflecting back, this was my experience, unique and unforgettable.  It may not have been enjoyable, but it did give me a story to tell.  Thankfully the nurses on staff kept me refilled with the ibuprofen and pepto bismol.

One of Mongolia’s biggest holidays, Naadam, took place on Wednesday and Thursday this last week.  Naadam is similar to the Olympics, a national competition of the three manly sports of Mongolia:  wrestling, archery and horseback riding.  Just like the Olympics, the competition is kicked off by pre-ceremonial presentations and dances.  Men and women dressed up in traditional Mongolian clothing.  The colors were vibrant.  My host family gave me a “del,” a traditional shirt to wear to Naadam. The other PC groups came from across the area and watched.  There were many gers set up outside the stadium selling hosher (friend dumplings) and airag (fermented horse milk).  It was pretty good.  It tasted like yogurt.  We were told not to drink too much, because we would be in the jorslung constantly. 

We have one more month here in Sukhbaatar before we’re placed.  I’ll most likely be working in an aimag with another volunteer in radius.  My host family’s been great, very nice and they involve me with a variety of things.  I’m ready for my own ger, however, and space to create my routine.  We have to constantly report to our host family where we’ll be and for how long.  This curfew, my goodness!  I feel like I’m 16. It’s a humbling experience.  It may take this experience to really embrace the liberty that’s right in front of my eyes.   Maybe the freedom I’ve been searching for has been here all along.

Mongolia in June

Sain baina uu!  

I figured it’s about time for another blog post (two a month is good, yeah?).  I’ve been keeping a journal of my experiences here in Mongolia, which I write in most days.  Of course the challenge is what experiences I should include in my blog.

To start off this post I want to quote something I heard the other week regarding the idea of “home.”

“LIFE IS A JOURNEY, AND THE JOURNEY ITSELF IS HOME.”

Home is often viewed, if not always viewed, as a place.  This place is where our loved ones are.  I’ve been challenged with the concept that I’ve been “away” from home, maybe not actually content with my decision to leave my loved ones behind.  This has put a grey cloud of unknowing over the two years ahead and a bright light at the end of the tunnel when I finally come back “home” to Washington.  We can only experience “home”, I’m realizing, right now.  Living situations change.  They always will.  Growing up in Yelm, I always reflect of the “home” that I once had.  The settings of my dreams always originate around the old house on Yelm Avenue.  With Grandma’s passing five months ago, this has made the image of my childhood “home” strongly based in Yelm.  People pass and our definition of home continues to be refined because of it.  I have more than one image of home, however.  When our family moved to Castle Rock in 2008, a new image of home was formed.  When I think of my family now, I contemplate their living in Castle Rock.  Can home be more than one place?  It seems to be for me.  Or perhaps home isn’t a place at all.

Home is not a destination; it’s the journey of the moment.  Each one of us is already “home.”  Every single moment we’re surrounded by Love, that which God is.  It’s right here, right now.  I can still feel the love that is sent from family and friends back in the States at different moments.  Home transcends space because Love transcends space.  The memories and thoughts of my family and friends in the States are no different than the physical experiences themselves when they happened.  I often relive those experiences here in Mongolia, browsing through endless pictures of precious memories.  It’s not just thoughts of the past that bring me back “home.”  It’s any thought, any place, any experience.  Everything is as it should be.  We are where we are supposed to be.  Every moment is “home,” if we choose to become aware of it.  I thought this quote showed itself at the perfect time.

It’s been an intensive week of Mongolian classes and teaching.  The Mongolian language is totally different from English. Having difficulty with Spanish in the past, I needed the fresh start of foreign language acquisition.  Every day at about 8:40 I begin walking to the school, along with my friends April and Rose.  It’s about a ten-minute walk one way.  Walking to school twice a day, we spend about 40 minutes walking a day.  It reminds me of Grandma Iverson’s story, walking to and from school five miles every day.  It also reminds me of Grandpa Rothwell’s childhood days walking to and from school in Alma.  I guess I never really understood what a “walk” was until I started doing it here.  Cars get us everywhere in America.  We even use them to drive us short distances, because we don’t want to waste our time or energy walking.  I’m realizing that walking is a privilege, an opportunity to really get in touch with your surroundings and nature.  It’s also an opportunity for great exercise!  As age begins to win over, walking becomes much more difficult.  We will eventually become immobile.  We must enjoy this privilege while we have it. 

The weather here changes so fast.  Warm mornings have often been met with thunder and lightning storms in the evening.  We have been told to bring our jackets with us even during the hot days because of the rapid change in weather.  I’ve enjoyed the drastic changes.  It’s much different than Western Washington’s consistent rainy, cloudy, or sunny streaks.  I’m really curious about this Mongolian winter that has been underlined by almost everybody.

In one of the culture classes last week we learned that Mongolians put a great emphasis on destiny.  Everything that happens, whether it’s an obstacle or joy, happens for a reason, they believe.  Very rarely do Mongolians get stressed.  I’ve witnessed no situations where Mongolians get worked up over little things.  It is said Mongolians have two times:  before noon and after noon.  This has frustrated many Americans who come into Mongolian with a fast-paced, get-things-done-on-time mindset.  Many PCVs have had to go through adaptations when their Mongolian counterparts showed up hours late to business meetings.  A mindset of destiny versus a mindset of success/failure.  A mindset of peace in the circumstance versus a mindset of stress in the circumstance.  Maybe there’s something to be learned here.  

We’re being fed like crazy here.  If you’re not that hungry or you get full quickly (like me), it’s best to eat your food slowly or you’ll find your plate continuously being filled back up.  Mongolian hospitality is above and beyond that of other cultures I’ve experienced so far.  When you’re in need of something, someone is quick to help.  Walking home from school last week, I decided to practice a little Mongolian hospitality myself.  A vehicle was stuck in a ditch, and the driver couldn’t get out.  I decided (along with my friend Rose) to help the driver.  Two other Mongolians joined in and we pushed the vehicle out of the ditch.  I felt like an official Mongolian!

One night I was awakened by a screaming voice about 2 am.  My host brother, Bapo, had a few friends over the day before, and I assumed they stayed the night and the scream was coming from one of them.  I created a story in my head that Bapo’s friend had to use the jorslung in the middle of the night, and when he went out to use it the dog started chasing him around (the family has two dogs on the property).  Stray dogs are abundant here, and family dogs are used for protection against strangers and other dogs.  Us volunteers received two sets of rabies shots due to the commonality of dog bites (and we have one more coming!).  Anyway, I envisioned that Bapo’s friend was running from the dog and tried dodging him by jumping into the well.  Of course, that drop would have broken his legs.  I presumed the shriek was coming from the kid screaming for help.  Because of the story I created and believed, I wanted to tell somebody.  Everybody was asleep except for me.  I tried to ignore the screams, telling myself that the story was my own creation.  The scream had a consistent pattern, several screams occurring for a few minutes, followed by a break, then more screams, then another break, and so on up until morning.  I put a pillow over my head to try to get some sleep and dozed off several times.  When I woke up in the morning I realized it wasn’t a person at all.  Those screams were coming from the rooster!  I had every intention of throwing him down the poop hole.  Thanks to a fellow volunteer who had earplugs, I was provided with another option.  I’ve been using the earplugs ever since!  Wow!  How my mind wanders sometimes.

On Sunday evening my family took me out to the countryside.  We jumped off sand dunes, took pictures of a giant boulder with writings in the old Mongolian manuscript about Chiinghis Khan, drank from a natural spring of mineral water, saw the Mongolian/Russian border, drank sutatse and ate cheese in a ger, and was cleansed by a shaman.  I also spent a night with my brother at a disco, played soccer with Mongolian kids at the school field, milked a cow and saw a goat butchering.  It was an eventful week.  This weekend I will have been here a month.  That would tie the longest I’ve been in any one country (besides America) without leaving.  By mid-July I will have tied the longest I’ve been out of America.  This has been an interesting stat to keep track of.

Thinking of everybody back home.  Love you all, and thanks so much for the thoughts, prayers and support!

Greetings from Mongolia!

-->

It’s been two weeks since I arrived in the “land of the blue sky.”  I know many of you have been wondering how I’m faring.  With the infrequent Internet connection here I’ve kept many of you out of the loop.  I’ve attempted to upload photos on Facebook.  So far, ten down!  As the weeks progress and I learn about the schedules and the places I may go for Internet connection, you’ll see more blogs (hopefully) and updates of what’s happening with me here in Mongolia.  Thanks for your patience!

I flew out of Portland on May 28^th, arriving in Washington D.C. later that day.  It was very difficult seeing my family off.  Tears were shed, all of us knowing that we wouldn’t be seeing each other face-to-face for quite some time.  Yes, there’s ways to connect.  I’ve connected back home several times the past couple weeks through telephone, Skype, Facebook and email.  There is also the possibility of coming home at anytime.  I have not moved away forever.  The direct encounter and the familial embrace is what we knew would be absent during these next two years.  It is perhaps this absence that will draw us closer.

I spent two nights in Washington D.C. where I met many of my future Peace Corps counterparts.  People came in from all across the country, from the Pacific and California coast, to the Midwest, New England and the South.  Everybody had their own story, 46 volunteers, all with unique histories that all came together through Peace Corps Mongolia.  We were about to embark on a journey that none of us quite expected.

We flew out of Washington D.C. on the 30^th, making stops in Detroit and Seoul, South Korea.  From Detroit to Seoul it was a 14-hour flight.  Luckily for me, somebody was generous enough to give me a sleeping pill, which put me out for a couple hours.  I sat next to a fellow volunteer named Jennifer.  We kept each other company at times and attempted to sleep at other times.  Flying west, we never saw the sun go down between the 30^th and the 31^st. 

We arrived in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia at about 11 p.m.  As soon as we got off the airplane and through international customs, we were greeted by the PC staff and a large group of current PCVs who cheered for us as we walked through the airport.  When we stepped outside, it was cold.  I knew Mongolia was known for being cold.  Mongolia is supposed to get into the negative degrees during the winter.  Oh boy!  After we got outside, we boarded a bus and headed off to a tourist ger camp.  I was in a ger with four other roommates:  Adam, Aaron, Tom and David.  The ger is a popular housing unit used for thousands of years in Mongolia.  If you’re not familiar with it, Google it!   We stayed a few nights in this camp, visiting the capital city of Ulaanbaatar one day, and having a few sessions led by PC trainers. 

We then headed off to Darkhan, a smaller city north of Ulaanbaatar.  We stayed there several nights, on a tight schedule with language classes and health and cultural sessions.   Our group really got to know each other at this time.  We went out several evenings for drinks and food.  One night I ate cow tongue (delicious!).  My roommate in Darkhan’s name was Adam, a very awesome and entertaining guy.  We hung out along with several others quite a bit.  During that first week it felt like our group knew each other for years.  We all connected so well. 

A Mongolian with his herd crossing the road

On Friday June 7 (my dad’s birthday), our large group split into several smaller groups based on our job assignment.  I along with nine others made up one group of TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) trainers.  Our group boarded a separate van, which took us to where our host families were.  I was nervous.  The entire time I was in Mongolia I was with other Americans.  I communicated with Mongolians whenever an opportunity presented itself.  Now, I was going to be living with a Mongolian host family that didn’t speak any English and whose customs were not my own.  I feared the unknown.  I felt comfort knowing all the other 45 volunteers would be going through the same thing. 

We arrived in a small village outside the city of Sukhbaatar (close to the Russian border) and were brought to the school, where we were introduced to our host family.  When my name was called, I went up to my host father who had a bowl of warm milk (sutatse), which I drank after he kissed both of my cheeks.  That to me was an authentic Mongolian greeting for welcoming me into the family.  His name was Ganbold.  He had a wife, Oyuna, and two sons, Orgil (24) and Bapo (15).  After the introductions, we were sent off with our host families.

I arrived in my family’s home and was given a room.  It was pretty large.  Ganbold is a carpenter by trade, his wife a kindergarten teacher (I feel like a kindergartener all over again trying to learn Mongolian!).  Orgil graduated from the University, and Bapo is still in school (though he looks to be in his 20s).  Right when I put all my stuff in the room, they invited me into the kitchen and we ate lunch together.  Ever since then every meal has included sutatse, known as “milk tea.”  It’s basically warm milk.  It is a staple here in Mongolia.  Whenever I go to visit another home, sutatse is the main drink.  For food we had these little patties stuffed with mashed potatoes and meat.  Other days we had soup and other pastries.  Every meal I was overstuffed.  Whenever you finish what’s on your plate or cup, they would refill it right away.  Whenever I am visiting another Mongolians house, they feed me more food and sutatse.  If I live like this with no exercise, I’d become immobile! 

On Saturday and Sunday, I helped the brothers pull dirt from a hole, filling a wheelbarrow, which was dumped nearby.  One of the brothers would climb down the 15-foot hole, filling up a bucket that was dropped, while I used a pulley to pull up the bucket and dump it in the wheelbarrow.  I asked what the hole was going to be used for, assuming it was going to be used as a jorslung, or “outhouse.”  They laughed and told me they were going to use it for os, which means they were digging for water.  The work was definitely the exercise I needed.  My hands felt blistered, but I felt like I contributed.  Speaking of jorslung, whenever one needs to pee or crap, they would go out to the jorslung, which is a small wooden shed with a hole.  There’s no seat, no cushions, no railings or handles.  You literally squat and hope you don’t miss.  I freak out at times thinking the board holding me up is going to break, and I would fall into the big hole of sewage.  Lucky for me, Ganbold is a carpenter and I trust he builds things pretty sturdy.

On Saturday Ganbold took me to meet up with another fellow volunteer’s family to take pictures in Sukhbaatar.  Sukhbaatar was a leader in the revolution freeing Mongolia from Chinese rule.  The city was named after him, and there are statues bearing his name all around the city.  The fellow volunteer, April, has been my buddy the last couple days as we learned to adapt to the culture shock of living in an area almost absent of English.  Her host brother is an avid guitar player, very good, and upon seeing him he immediately brings me his guitar to play.  He’s only 15, and he’s already surpassed me with picking.  Still, he’s fascinated by the fact that I can play too.  We took several pictures together with both our guitars in Sukhbaatar. 

With all that said, I miss home.  The last couple days I have found much time on my hands, leaving my mind open to wander.  Culture shock has kicked in.  I think about my family.  I think about my mom, my dad, my brothers, my sisters, my relatives, my friends.  I think about American living, how I’m a world away from everything that I know.  Tears have come to me knowing I’ll be doing this for two years without experiencing home.  It’s only the second week, and it seems like a lot longer.  But I also know that I expected this to be part of my journey.  I expected to go through homesickness, through hardships and trials.  Hardships would also come if I were back in the States.  This was my choice.

In life, there are many paths we can take on our life journey.   All paths will have both barriers and triumphs.  Despite the inevitable suffering us humans will go through in life, we have the freedom to choose our path and our attitude.  We are all extraordinary.  My path has decided to take me here, and I’m eager to discover why.

Blessings to all of you back home.  I’m praying and sending my loving thoughts daily.  Summer has just begun!

The Top 5 Regrets of the Dying

As I was browsing the internet last week, I came across a very interesting read discussing the top regrets of those that were dying.  A nurse recorded the following as the most common regrets.  She put her findings into a book called ‘The Top Five Regrets of The Dying.’

1.   I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
“This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.”

2.   I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
“This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret, but as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.”

3.   I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
“Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.”

4.   I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
“Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.”

5.   I wish that I had let myself be happier.
”This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content, when deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.”

The Seven Epochs of Human Experience

As I was reflecting on general human history and my own human experience, I came up with a simple understanding of human development.  This understanding is not strictly scientifically-based but is rather based on the understanding that experience, in general, is the greatest teacher and revealer of truth. 

Arrow=Journey

Minds/Bodies=Vessels

Ego=Tool

Note:  This is a general human experience.  Individuals may experience each epoch differently.  Some experience one epoch more than the others.  Some may bounce back and forth from various epochs.  Epoch 1 is experienced at the beginning of life whereas Epoch 7 is experienced at death, with the progression of life aligning with the progression of epochs.  Each subsequent epoch must have the experience of previous epochs for keeping a balanced and healthy self.

I adopted the name "Epoch," because it characterizes a certain period of time beginning and ending with a big transition.

Epoch 1:  Inexperienced Pure Consciousness

*  Transition:  Birth

*  Pre-birth to right before first memory

*  Life before the ego

*  No recollection or memories

*  First life experiences (unaware)

You are an inexperienced consciousness, a blank slate.  The mental consciousness (mind) is starting to be explored, but you lack the tool of the ego to distinguish, making you unaware of yourself.  This epoch continues until the development of the ego, a tool used for self-awareness, recollecting memories and learning.

Epoch 2:  Foundational Mental Consciousness

*  Transition:  First memory

*  Childhood years

*  Ego development

*  Beginning knowledge and exploration of the mind

The mental ego is established through collective memories and grows at a rapid pace.  The ego is a tool used for the exploration of the mind.  The conscious self begins to attach to the ego, though it is unaware this attachment is taking place.

"You are not responsible for the programming you picked in childhood.  However, as an adult, you are 100% responsible for fixing it."

Epoch 3:  Social Exploration

*  Transition:  Puberty

*  Social and relational learning

*  Development of social and interpersonal knowledge

*  Vehicle is strong, enabling it to make longer and more difficult journeys

*  The Polars of Love (highs and lows) is what's experienced

*  Socially focused (finding commonalities and combining energies)

This is a highly attractive epoch where many people choose to focus their life experience.  With the union of two egoic vehicles (romance), the Polars of Love are explored.  The individual vehicle is usually strongest at this point, enabling it to make longer journeys.  This epoch may be a difficult one, as Love experienced at its highest form must be experienced at its lowest form to gain a full understanding. 

Humans are social mammals and rely heavily on relationships.  Those whose primary focus is on this epoch will come to know social and interpersonal truths that those focused on the 4th and 6th epochs wont.  This epoch may be experienced over and over again.

Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all."  Aristotle

And the second is like it:  'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"  Matthew 22:39

Epoch 4:  Mind-Dominant

*  Transition:  Expansion beyond social worldview

*  Post-teenage experience and exploring what is beyond the already-established worldview and social relationships of previous epochs. 

*  Further mind-exploration and individual enhancement using the ego (intrapersonal); the ego is at its strongest, and there is little distinction between the ego, the mind and the self

*  Strong focus on learning and distinction

*  Intellectually focused

*  Another highly attractive epoch

The experiences of Epoch 4 are self-experiences, that is, for the further enhancement of the individual self.  The experiencer is the only one that knows what they're experiencing.  Individuals focused on this epoch may have difficulty communicating to others what they have experienced.  They may feel stagnant at times because of their lack of interpersonal knowledge, especially if they spent little time in Epoch 3.  This could lead to a genuine dislike of people, increasing self-pride.  When Love (dominant feature of Epoch 3) is balanced with the intellect (dominant feature of Epoch 4), the individual is empowered and highly capable of altering the collective consciousness of humanity.

"When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge."

"If an egg is broken by an outside force, life ends.  If broken by an inside force, life begins.  Great things always begin from inside."

"False:  when things change, I will be happy.  True:  when I am happy, things will change."

 Epoch 5:  Regression

*  Transition:  Recession of the ego/mind/body

*  Commonly experienced mid-life and/or during hardships

*  Breakdown of the mental ego; the Unconscious calling back awareness from ego-identification

*  Characterized as a difficult and uneasy period of time

The vehicle (body and mind) and the ego experience a rough patch, requiring more repairs and weakening its functions.  Strenuous journeys the vehicle once endured are now more difficult.  The weakening ego is being used against itself but tries to maintain control.  Nevertheless, the more the ego fights, the stronger the resistance and the greater the suffering.  Regression may be brief.  It may endure a lifetime.  The transition from Epoch 5 to Epoch 6 occurs when the individual ego "lets go," giving itself up to the power of the Unconscious (God), aka "salvation."  Epoch 5 is usually experienced right before a major spiritual breakthrough.

"Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny..."  C.S. Lewis

"It is your reaction to adversity itself, that determines how your life's story will develop."  Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Epoch 6:  Spirit-Dominant

*  Transition:  Salvation through Unconscious awareness 

*  Usually experienced later in life as the mind and body break down (weakening of the vessels) leaving the spirit clearly distinguishable 

*  The realization that the Unconscious has won the battle over the ego (the once-perceived self)

*  The Unconscious begins being explored

*  The ego is still a useful tool and the mind and body are still vessels, but one understands that these will be lost one day

This is a highly spiritual epoch.  If Epoch 5 is experienced early in life (with a strong vehicle), individuals may spend a lifetime in Epoch 6.  Those whose primary focus is Epoch 6 are generally spiritually focused and strive to experience the Unconscious and bring the knowledge to others.

"The journey is the reward."  Chinese proverb

"Everyone is at different stages of consciousness.  There is a certain stage you reach where your intent is to only speak your truth, not convince others of it.  You begin to realize that everyone has their own path.  In other words, you cannot convince a baby they should be walking when they are at the stage of crawling.  To convince them of that truth, is irrelevant."

Epoch 7:  Enlightenment, Death and Reunion

*  Transition:  Death or moments of bliss

*  Union with the Unconscious (God); oneness; wholeness

*  Pure spirit and experienced consciousness

*  Free of all boundaries and suffering

This epoch, for most, is usually when the human experience ends (death).  There is no more ego, no mind, no body.  The vehicle accomplished its duty; the tool is no longer useful.  Our personal consciousness experienced what it had to and is now unified with the Unconscious.  All is One.  There are no regrets.  There is only the present moment, which is all there is and all there ever was or will be.  The spiritually enlightened may experience this epoch during their lifetime for extended periods of time.  Everybody has Epoch 7 experiences, but they're mostly brief moments of pure bliss (peak experiences; "Wow" moments).

"We are just walking each other home."

"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it."  Confucius