Safety and Security
I was in Dhamma Mahi in France for the first time. I would like to share some of the experiences I had during my stay there.
It was a long drive from where I live. I arrived safely and securely. The place was in the middle of nowhere; I was also in the middle of nowhere. So we found each other there.
Water Filter
It was before the course started. Based on my observations, I could not figure out if I could drink the water from the tap, or how to refill my bottle. I could insist on resolving this issue by my own resources, but I knew there was another way now: I could ask for help. I was willing to, I was getting used to that.
However, it was still challenging because I was in France. There was also the language barrier. I did not want to make myself or others uncomfortable. So that was why there was a course manager, I thought, and I decided to approach him.
I was going to be dependent on someone. I was going to put myself in their hands. I was brave enough to take the risk:
I could be crushed, or I could be held.
He was willing to help me in English even though he was not fluent. After the first moment, he asked me to speak slower. He did not make me feel bad for not being able to speak French or not being able to take care of some trivial problem by myself. Neither was he off-balanced by the challenge thrown in his way. I tried to express myself slower and clearer again. His patience helped him understood what I needed.
He attempted to explain what I could do, but I did not understand the explanation. He sensed that. He was not frustrated by his English-language limitations, nor was he frustrated by my inability to understand him. I was not frustrated with myself because of my inability to understand him. Neither was I frustrated by his inability to speak fluently.
I think we were focused on the problem more. When frustration did not take all the energy, there were other possibilities. We were in the garden; he asked me to follow him with a gesture. I followed his steps. In the kitchen, non-verbally he showed me where the water filter was and how I could use it. The problem was understood, and it was addressed. What happened in between is just a memory.
Gratitude and patience washed away all the thirst.
I felt proud that I could ask and receive help from others. I was even more impressed and inspired by his approach:
Nothing was able to get in the way of providing and delivering his care.
Forest and Garden
The course began, and I had access to water. It was not my first retreat, but it was the first time I deeply felt how safe and secure I was. I was in the middle of nowhere among people I had never seen in my life.
A part of the center was forest. A real forest with high trees: one side of the forest was unknown, dark, and mysterious. The other side of the forest was garden. For days I went back and forth on the line.
I was invisible to them, but at the same time I felt the most seen. I did not feel any threat, I did not feel any imaginary judgement, I did not see any judging look. I felt so free:
I was watched but not interfered with.
I was cared for but not pressured.
I was seen but not judged.
It is not so easy to explain. In some way I perceived it that way because of how I felt for them. Because I was not giving any of them to any other of them. I felt increasingly lucky to be able to experience such an environment. I knew what being physically safe is, but that was a kind of safety going beyond physical.
I felt secure many times, but this was the first time I also felt safe.
I was sharing a space with others without being pressured. There was enough space for everyone. Anyone could do anything they wanted; nobody was going to do anything to anyone.
I knew that from the experience. That was the whole practice: one’s own reactions and observations become the central point. There are no other people on the stage. Paradoxically, that somehow brings the people into the middle of the stage. When you do not give them any importance, they become the most important. When you are not any threat, you are the most safe.
I did not know those people, they did not know me either. I was nobody to them. Simply nobody; I didn’t offer them anything, they wouldn’t see me maybe ever again. Yet simple gestures made me feel so seen, so human. People would give me way, open and hold doors for me, be patient with me. I realized I did not have those reflexes developed. I gave way once and took way three if not five times. I was jealous of them, of their way of caring.
I smiled and even laughed in the forest. The peace and the comfort I felt were at the levels of absurdity.
Cushion
One evening, I entered the hall and saw my cushion was occupied. The person next to me had accidentally sat on my cushion. When I realized that, I was initially confused and then smiled. I sat on his cushion. Normally he was on my right side but this time he was on my left side.
I did not say anything; he did not say anything. The next day I found my shawl nicely folded, and I smiled again. I am amazed how silence can bring wonders and how words can sometimes steal it.
We share a wordless and worldless memory.
Internet Sharing
The course was over. I needed internet because I thought I could renew my package on the way back. There was no stable internet in the center. So I went to the course manager again.
Skipping some details: he shared his mobile internet, but we were in a rural area, so it did not work. I followed him and he asked for help from another person. Some technical challenges and slow internet connection made the whole thing take longer than I could imagine.
I felt guilty keeping him busy, blaming myself for leaving this as a last-moment task. I even suggested that he could leave and I would find a way, but he stayed with me.
Until the last moment, until he had assurance that I had my own internet connection on my phone. This time the guilt and self-blame were overwritten by gratitude.
How selfless he was, how focused he was on my need and nothing else. He stayed with me from the moment he found out about my need and until it was taken care of. If he had worked for a company, I would be a loyal customer because of the customer service. Ironically, there was no company, no reviews, no customer service, no promotions, no aftermath, no money involved.
I am so grateful to these unknown people. They have many faces, but it is one spirit.
Back Home
I got back home safely and securely. I was emptying my luggage. My focus was on a different place this time. My mind did not roll over in frustration, in guilt, in self-blaming. I did not see myself. I did not see what I did, what I did not do, what I could do, what I could not do.
Instead, I saw them. I saw what they did to me and what they did not do to me. I hugged the sofa and cried these Kurdish words:
Ti çime fa tistane didiye mi
Te mi rezil kereye
Me cikiriye ti fa tistane didiye mi
E distek ninim
E distek ninim
E gu me gu
Me cikiriye ki mi hek kiriye
Why are you giving me these things?
You are disgracing me.
What did I do that you are giving me these?
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I am shit, shit.
What have I done to deserve it?
He took me home safely and securely.
He spoke to me in a language that I did not speak fluently.
He made me feel in a language that I had even forgotten.
I don’t even know his name.