I leave for the Royal Thai Monastery in Lumbini in three weeks. Six months. I have never sat longer than a 10-day Vipassana. What did you wish you had brought on your first long retreat? What did you wish you had left behind?
A young family arrived at sunrise — Sri Lankan, three children. The youngest, maybe four years old, walked straight to the Vajrasana stone and pressed her forehead against it. Her father wept. The mother chanted the Itipiso quietly. I bowed and walked on. This place still does its work.
Day 14 of the walk. I started at the Maya Devi temple with one robe and a bowl. Today I crossed into Uttar Pradesh. The road is hot, the people are kind, the dust gets into everything. But the Buddha walked this route too. That thought alone keeps me moving.
I came to Lumbini for the first time at twenty-one. I returned this month at seventy-six. The dust is the same. The trees are taller. The pilgrims are younger. The Maya Devi shrine has been beautifully restored. What surprised me most: I am still moved. After fifty-five years on the path, I am still moved.
I arrived at the parinirvana stupa at dawn. The reclining Buddha looked like he was simply resting. I sat for an hour. Then I cried for an hour. Then I sat again. There is no greater teaching than a teacher who can die with this much peace.