His holiness the Dalai Lama in Cambridge

“If you want to be happy, practice compassion. If you want others to be happy, practice compassion”. Dalai Lama

I recently read an interesting story written by a Tibetan Buddhist Master named Ringu Tulku Rinpoche. The story was about a princess who had a little problem in her eye that she thought and felt horrible. This princess, because of her situation as the king's daughter, was used to have whatever she wanted. She was a spoiled girl and that's why she was crying all the time. Although the doctors where trying to apply some treatment and medicine to cure the disease, they found it impossible and all their attempts to counteract the problem were in vain. After a long time of bringing health specialists in the palace with no results, the king decided to give a reward to the person who could cure the princess. A man, who called himself as a physician but not a doctor, went to the palace. He was sure he could help the king's daughter. He examined the princess and after a while he said: “Oh, I'm so sorry. There's something with you that is really serious”, and the princess asked surprised: “What is it?”. The physicist refused to answer the question, he just told her that without the expressed authorization of the king he wouldn't be in a position of telling what was happening. Even in front of the king, the “specialist” wasn't able to say what he found. After the king's insistence, the man stated: “The eye will get better in just a few days. But what is really a trouble is that a very long tail will grow from the princess' bag. Maybe if we prevent it since the beginning, we'll be able to stop it growing”. There were concern in all the palace. The princess, after hearing the news, decided to focus all her attention, day and night, in her bag, trying to detect when the tail would appear. Thanks to that, her eye stop hurting.

According to Tulku Rinpoche, in my point of view, this story is actually an example of how we tend to make many little dispensable problems in our lives bigger and bigger. We overreact because we put our own desires and rejections as the center of everything that involves our life, losing world's perspective. The idea in buddhism of emptiness, dependent origination (the law of cause and effect), interconnectivity of all phenomena and the nature of reality brings another concept to this way of thinking.

Apparently, in many scientists and experts' words, these characteristic features of the mentioned Eastern intellectual discipline prepared what quantum physics would prove thousands and thousands of years later. The world famous quantum physicist Albert Einstein, who developed the Relativity Theory, quoted:

“Buddhism has the characteristics of what would be expected in a cosmic religion for the future: It transcends a personal God, avoids dogmas and theology; it covers both the natural and spiritual; and it is based on a religious sense aspiring from the experience of all things, natural and spiritual, as a meaningful unity. If there is any religion that would cope with modern scientific needs it would be Buddhism.”

“A human being is part of the whole, called by us 'Universe'; a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest - a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely but striving for such achievement is, in itself, a part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security”. (I think it fits perfectly with Eastern mystic philosophies such as buddhism).

It is noticeable how the buddhism is closed from science itself, specially knowing that is also based on experience and experimentation (you have to live it by yourself, see it with your eyes, investigate and examine it through your experience: this is why the phrase “clear your mind” is also really important for buddhism). Related to Buddha's teachings, the follower of the Buddha is exhorted to believe nothing until he has experienced it and found it to be true. Now I understand that the logic behind buddhist religion and philosophy of life and methodology came across many western countries not a long time ago, increasing exponentially its practitioners, specially in the last few decades.

Psychologically speaking, seems that buddhism also provides an in-depth solution, scientifically tested, to many mental diseases as well as relationship issues, essential for personal growth and well being. Psychiatrist Howard C. Cutler, in the nineties, decided to write a book based on the interviews with his holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama entitled: “The Art of Happiness”. What started as an initial approach to buddhist philosophy by modern science and a simple self-help guidebook to deal with our lives in day-to-day practice according to Dalai Lama's beliefs, soon became gradually a complex-but-clear huge compendium of buddhist philosophy and experiences perfectly contrasted with western scientific statements. Scientific research aknowledged Dalai Lama to be right. In a remarkably short period of time, the book was a best-seller and it is still being reedited. In my opinion, there are reasons to believe that we can find important clues for achieving happiness in this religion and philosophy of life.

My personal path to the depths of buddhism started last year, after a period of “inner” imprisonment and extreme over-the-top “ego” that brought me to depression and delusions. I realized how the sense of being an enclosed mental body, with his specific characteristics created by himself and also assuming them as real, as objective, as personal with regard to others, was causing enormous pain, fear and lots of insecurities to me. Metaphorically, the house where I was living wasn't a very comfortable place to stay.

I began to think outside the “box” when I reread “The power of Now” written by Cambridge University's professor Eckhart Tolle. The book brings together the teachings of different spiritual masters from different cultures. I was attracted by the possibility of displaying a state of “presence”, “consciousness” and “self-awareness” in our everyday lives, which could bring anybody to a dramatic change, shift of perspective and also of the way of how they perceive things. What also affects directly our relationship with other human beings (connectivity) and also our inner calm and inner peace. By the law of cause and effect, you do good you get good, you do bad you get bad (pretty obvious, isn't it?), at the end all beings will be benefited from it as a result. From there, I started to read lots of books, articles, programs, blogs... with reference to it, but I will point out more of my own thoughts about the matter further in other posts.

The visit of the Nobel Price his holiness the Dalai Lama in Cambridge this weekend, related to the interesting subject of “Non Violence for Conflict Resolution”, brought me the idea of writing this little extract of my personal beliefs and philosophy of life. How I see it, how I justify it. The idea of going to the conference, where many world leaders will also be involved in, is enormously tempting, although it is going to be accessible only for scholars of the University of Cambridge. (Sugar! I will have to find a way to get there!).

Alright, mate! Here it comes Norwich

Cheesy time, guys. I've chosen James Blunt's song because he is from Cley-next-the-Sea, Norfolk. The most populated city of this county: Norwich. “Goodbye My Lover” by James Blunt.

• What? Are you sure I didn't tell you that we had to go by train?!- my spanish friend told me while we were waiting at Cambridge's bus station.

• C'mon man, I understood we had to meet altogether here. I've phone M. and she told she was also coming here. How can it be?- I asked surprised, meanwhile my italian housemate was losing her temper- Hang on, man – I paused, staring at the annoyed italian – You, calm down, ok?

The actual fact was that I wasn't pleased with the idea of going to Norwich. The previous day, some locals were questioned about the idea of doing a trip there and, I must say, it didn't seem the best destination of getting to know the english culture better (yet the best choice for compulsive shoppers, though). How mistaken I was.

Later on, some of the italian people changed their previous idea of going by train because of my misunderstood. So, I had to take responsibility. I arranged everything to fix the situation. Lucky as we were, a taxi stopped immediately next to us and as we caught it, we went to the railway station.

Since then, we had the fate on our side. The weather seemed to change. From the grey of the morning's dense clouds to the light blue and shining of the “previous hidden” sun. Furthermore, we took the train just on time and the price of the tickets was cheaper than expected.

Once arrived, I noticed how you cannot whole heartedly believe each stereotype or assumption that you listen. This city of Norfolk, Norwich, was simply beautiful. It exuded history and culture in every street and building that you could see next to the city centre. Cameras flashing all the time (I won't use the stereotype of the japanese when they are visiting Barcelona for the first moment, although we were pretty there as typical “guiris”).

 

 

 

A wonderful great gothic structure stood out in the city: Norwich Cathedral. It was a place of worship but also an artistic masterpiece, sculptured on detail and outstanding because of its history and lovely spots.

 

Drinking a lager pint or british beer would be our second choice of the day, after a quite exhausting visit during the morning. It was a good opportunity to build connection with my two new italian mates who were coming with us. Amazing and interesting people.

The third destination: the market on the central square of Norwich. Different type of food from a diverse range of cultures and multiple pieces of clothes, lights and all the eclectic furniture and crafts that you would ever imagine. However, a little bit expensive in some makeshift tends I must say. 

We went directly from there to the splendid catholic church of Norwich, where we were shocked by the lack of control and safety of the place (everything opened and it seemed that nobody was there).

Finally, we spent our last hours in a great pub in front of the church (why not?). Again, spanish people could be found in the place (inevitably nowadays wherever place you go in England), noticed by their extroversion and full of hospitality.

Coming back home, the picture of Norfolk's city had changed radically once the sun wasn't embracing it, the inception of lighting and calm gave to Norwich a remarkable picturesque air. By the way, it was not easy to take the train to Cambridge and leave all these new experiences and landmarks aside. At least, a breathtaking memory was remaining in our minds.

Amazing London: the City full of mystery

Today, I share the music of a renowned British Jazz Artist, from Essex: Jamie Cullum. The music behind London's landscape: “I'm All Over It”.

The train arrived on the perfect time. Awesome was going to be the whole following weekend. I was visiting London for the first time since I've been living in Cambridge (in absolute terms, the twelfth time indeed). Being involved in the City: its culture, its tradition, its landmarks, its nightlife (difficult to compare to Spain, though), its citizens, its buildings, streets and districts,... is always a breathtaking experience, it is nothing that vanishes once you live it.

My closest friend was going to be there, as we previously arranged. The idea was to meet each other at a neuralgic point of London and then, after a typical English dinner, trying to localize our youth hostel. Things weren't going to be that easy (peasy lemon squeezy). During the week, the weather forecast predicted extremely awful (freezing like hell) weather and, yep, they were totally right (sugar, mate!). Drops were falling incessantly and the wind was making us feeling what is to catch a cold, wandering around desperately for a heating (or something similar to it). Arriving to the district we ain't have any idea where the bloody place was, god dammit. Even a call to the receptionist wasn't that helpful, either. It actually made things worse. After hours walking in a roundabout way, (unbelievable, lads), we could finally find our destination.

The first night was great, a good experience that made us notice how different really English people spend their nightlife. They normally drink beer in the pub and also do a little “pub crawling” before going to the night club. Then, you can find some of them meandering in the corridor next of the toilet's door when you go to “powder your nose” (it is not what you think,it is an English idiom as well as euphemism, nasty-minded).

On Saturday, we had a great opportunity of visiting the city centre, specially its commercial places like Picadilly Circus and Oxford Street. A massive amount of people were invading the streets, rushing out. Some maybe looking for the best items to buy, while some others could be immersed in their professional or domestic matters. The fact that living in an advanced great city can be very stressful, depending on the person, is understandable.

The cosmopolitan nature of London was reflected in how were differences in fashion style, shape, outfit and general appearance of the pedestrians. Hypothetically, I was seeing from models and designers, businessmen and women to rock stars, musicians, painters, rapers, … Such a varied fauna.

Multicoloured streets, plenty of houses distinct in colour, shape, height, design and age; the harmonic coexistence of the old victorian London with the current financial and commercial City was showing one of the most beautiful views of it. Undoubtedly, we witnessed a urban masterpiece and also my favorite City around the Old Continent. Spring was not showing its best face, in fact, it was snowing continously. It made the fantastic postcard.

We had an exciting night in Pacha, close to Victoria Square, where the friendliness of the girl in charge of the public relationship just made us spend a pleasant time there.

On Sunday, we decided to do a tour around the huge City. Sightseeing was in the top of our preferences. Unfortunately, there was only space at the top of the bus, hardly covered, and the thermometer indicated unbearable 0 degrees celsius (not too hot). Paying attention to the guide and knowing what was happening outside the bus were difficult tasks to do taking into account that we were trembling and moving constantly. However, we could enjoy the lovely view of the Parliament's building in Westminster, the Big Ben, Harrods, the Courts of Justice, Hyde Park, Green Park, Buckingham Palace, Hard Rock Café, David Cameron's house in Downing Street, James Matthew Barrie's House in front of the sculpture of his creation, the fiction character Peter Pan, the flat where Ringo, Paul, John and George (The Beatles) were living for the first and only time in their lives, the posh and upper-class districts of Kensington and Chelsea, Knightsbride, Mayfair and Sloane Street, the London Tower, the London Eye, the Thames' bridge,... Furthermore, the intriguing dark side of the City was exposed as well: unresolved crimes, legends involving phantoms, strange suicides and serial killers such as Jack the Ripper.

Finally, although we could get inside the bus, the excessively low temperatures pushed us to stop at Saint Paul's Cathedral (marvellous monumental building dated from 1708). We couldn't get in, time was precious and short, so we split our ways and got back to our respective houses.

Many landmarks were left to see. I'll better wait for the next summer, if the weather is favourable...

A little piece of art in Cam

While crossing the old streets of Cambridge, I couldn't help turning on my Ipod and letting the renowned London band get up to their old tricks. “You can't always get what you want” (but if you try sometimes, you get what you need), the immortal Rolling Stones.

It was as cold as a witch's bosom in a brass bra and the windy weather amplified those freezing feelings. I was going to Cambridge public library to borrow some books.

Actually, there are lots of public libraries spread throughout the city. The Cambridge University Library, established in the 15^th century, is the oldest of all of them. I'd really like to go there if I'm accepted. Huge building.

British libraries are considerably better organized than most of the Spanish ones. Everything works on like clockwork and it's also very easy to find whatever you want to find. Books, newspapers, magazines, CD's with music of any type, vinyls, maps and drawings,... all at hand. Applying the library is free and you've got the option of borrowing a maximum of twelve items each time, which is awesome. Close to the entrance of the library, machines are provided to check the products you want to borrow. Just by placing them on a specific area, all together, there's no more need to worry. Huxley's biography was my choice, indeed (I'm very interested in his philosophy lately, specially in his approach to oriental thoughts and the awakening of the consciousness).

After that, I decided to have a walk downtown with one of my colleagues and take a glance at the majestic architecture and shapes of its old buildings. Narrow streets combined with intensely vivid colours, shops that offered with open arms attraction to its customers, street artists whose music was embracing the atmosphere of the place, bridges over the Cam river and, of course, the preservation of the main buildings of the historic university, the King's College Chapel, the other colleges (Trinity, St. John's, Queens...) and the crowded Market located in Market Square were creating the perfect postcard.

As we were walking through the greenery around the town center, a procession of people, all uniformed, was following a clear line to the main Chapel. I was wondering if it was Trinity College's choir. It seemed, indeed, it was.

After my friend's goodbye, I went to visit Fitzwilliams Museum. It was quite late and maybe I wouldn't have enough time to see in great detail all its antiquities and works of art, but ,at least, it could be a good opportunity to admire impressionist paintings.

On my way to the museum, I met a very interesting person who was studying a PhD at the University. She showed me some of the most remarkable landmarks to visit along the Cam and the best places to be imbibed with the people of the area.

Finally, I could see all the impressionist masterpieces at the museum: Gauguin, Renoir, Monet and Matisse specially, and I could notice how the museum was invaded by a group of ten art students who captured the essence of Fitzwilliams museum sculptures in their own notebooks. Talented, indeed.

The museum closed and I thought it could be the moment to hang out with my dutch friend as we had set out the night before, but I realised that in less than one hour dinner would be on the table, so I put it on hold for maybe another occasion.

Returning home, a good sort of feelings were overpowering me. I attempted to preserve it for the rest of the week (new experiences and adventures were awaiting)...

Welcome to UK, guys!

To start with, a little piece of music taken from the soundtrack of my trip to England. "Battery" by Metallica.

The day had definitely arrived. I had a serious fight with my bag and suitcase and the strategic way of putting my staff inside them where much more deliberated than playing chess. Not space enough, holly shit.

As a horrible organizer I always leave things for the last minute. So after I woke up I find an easy way to get me on my nerves: trying to do several tasks at the same time the day that you have to go to the Yorkshire pudding country.

Yes mates! I arrived on time, took the plane and finally seat on my previously reserved place (after some troubles and discussions with the lovely staff). I was listening to Metallica the whole time. As I was seating a swedish (kind of) flight assistant with an adorable gloomy facial expression appeared from the nowhere:

• You're not supposed to be here. Go and find some other seats! They're free. (mudafucka).

• Excuse me (using british manners, always try to calm the situation down guys), but according to my flying boarding pass that's my reserved seat.

• Let me take a look.

After confirming why Ryanair's hiring politics were absolutely focused on efficency and courtesy she answered with a mere ok, sorry and then left. Whatdafuck.

Almost arriving, the plane was descending crossing a thick white curtain made of clouds. The landscape changed radically, grey was the preferencial colour (Welcome to UK).

As I turned my head right I noticed how “Kooth Rappali's father” had already placed his head on the front seat immersed in a profound sleep.

We finally landed, Stansted wasn't the typical airport that you see on US films. Moreover, buses weren't available till two hours after that time so I decided to go by train.

What a coincidence I had, a spanish boy from Santander came to me telling that he was hearing me talking catalan (oh, here you are).

• I have bad news for you. Here there are thousands of spaniards (you cannot scape from a spanish person, they are everywhere. It's a plague). Apart from that, you can find many latinoamericans too.

How lovely. So after a little chit-chat once we arrived, we shared a taxi to the centre of Cambridge. The first destination where the mine.

One remarkable issue about cambridge taxi drivers is that, in order to have their license, they should be able to identify many different types of voices and accents for a better service to the customer.

I was sent to the other side of the city and I didn't have any bloody idea about that. Actually I think there's a huge difference between Widen Hill and Wetenhall Road in Cambridge.

So, as you see, a welcoming surprising face was standing in front on me, behind the main entrance of, let's say, the “fake” Wetenhall Road house. Three middle-class british women plenty of joy and hospitality offered me a glass of red wine. I couldn't resist such a temptation. While one of them was trying to contact a friend of hers who was from Spain in order to talk to her, another one was calling a taxi to bring me to the right place. I spoke to the lady's spanish friend, what an awkward situation.

Finally, I could arrive with the bad feeling of not being able to claim the indian taxi driver for his incompetence, so lucky me I had a double-payment.  

Ola k ase, abla inglé o k ase?

After quite a long time of not knowing if I should publish something in this blog (let's see how long this idea will last) I decided to do so for self-amusement and also for learning purposes. Because of that, I have to point that the present blog will be strictly in english and related to my experiences and feelings about different sort of things inside a lovely country called United Kingdom. Feel free to comment whenever you want, mates!