The Vajra Parrot Squawks!

A wise person once said, ‘reality has no background noise.’

We might like to think we're living in the present moment, doing our daily thing, but, more often than not, we’re merely humming along to a theme tune running round in our head, manipulated constantly by an ongoing flow of images, sensations and their associations, which swirl and eddy delightfully or horribly (depending on their content) across the landscape of our mind.

In other words, we are subject to an incessant mental commentary which separates us from now. Like a devoted viewer of some ghastly TV sitcom, we laugh along with the canned laughter and are happy; at other times we get dewy-eyed when we hear the sounds of the violin and piano in some soppy love scene and think we're sad. Even though we started out as viewers, we become active participants in the process as played out on the screen.

While we are absorbed in this ever-changing flow of background activity we miss something incredibly precious - the present moment. The sounds of the birds singing outside is lost to us; the wind caresses our skin, but we don't feel it; we glug down cup after cup of tea but don't taste it. Instead, we satisfy or torture ourselves with the mental commentary and, without realising it, swap the real for the illusory.

The happiness and peacefulness of simply being present and aware, even for a moment is its own reward, and once tasted the more appealing it becomes. The more we familiarise ourselves with present moment reality the less the background noise intrudes into our daily activities, making us freer, clearer and more spontaneous. We can be conscious of the flow of thought, the commentary/soundtrack, whatever you want to call it, without buying into it; we can watch the show, but not let ourselves become emotionally entangled in the canned laughter or the schmaltzy music that drones on relentlessly.

This is the aim of meditation. Not some mystical, mental escapism but its opposite: a grounding in the now, a recognition of the nature of phenomena and, by extension, the recognition of the nature of one's own mind. The sad thing is that so many would-be Buddhists, like myself, are not more familiar with it, and just sit in front of the TV, allowing ourselves to get sucked in.

As I passed the incense burning in front of the Boudhanath Stupa today a couple of things struck me: the smoke rising, a representation of people's aspirations; offerings of fragrant, burning wood and herbs transformed mentally into clouds of desirable objects to benefit others, wherever the wind might carry them.

Now, whether these offerings - or even these beings - are real or imaginary, or whether the smoke actually reaches or benefits anything at all, doesn't really matter. What does matter is the fact that someone, a random face in the crowd, had the generosity of heart to want to offer it in the first place. In their own, small, way, someone had the presence of mind to do something to benefit someone other than their self.

Isn't this the choice we also must make on a daily basis, if we are consider ourselves as decent, caring human beings? As I see it, as fellow pilgrims on our shared pilgrimage, whether we do kora around stupas in Nepal or around the chocolates and biscuits section of Harvey Nichol's food hall, we can either choose to add to the collective misery which saturates this world or do something to lessen it. It really doesn't matter how big or how small a difference we make, actually, as long as it's positive. If it's just a handful of incense or a sandwich to someone who can't afford to buy lunch, or causing a smile to break out on the face of someone who's in the doldrums, the fact that we actually gave a shit to do so is the only thing of any significance.

The more I learn, and I have an incredible amount more to learn, the more I realise that this existence is deeply interconnected on so many levels. To say we are an island, some impregnable fortress of introverted, self-sufficiency, is just a fantasy, and it diminishes, rather than frees us. The more we look at the way of things, we discover that, conversely, doing things for others benefits us. Lessening the burden of others makes our own burden lighter. Making others happy makes us more contented.

So how are we going to use these myriads of connections we have with others?

For my part, I added my handful to the embers, made an aspiration that somewhere, someone might benefit from whatever small positivity I may be able to generate, and gave a little food to one of the beggars.

Looking back, down the street, after I'd walked on, I noticed some other Western people were also doing the same, which made me really happy.

Our tendency to 'cure' unhappiness is to treat the symptoms and not deal with the cause. Whilst treating symptoms sometimes makes one feel better, it is only an alleviation - there is no removal of the instigator of the malaise. When we bleat about how unhappy 'I' am, or what is making 'me' so depressed we get a glimpse of the cause in all its simplicity: attachment to the self - the big I AM.

Where is the 'I'? Where is the 'self'? It is not in the body, it is not consciousness, feelings, perceptions, impulses, memories, likes or dislikes. There is no such thing: only a subjective label which doesn't stand up to reasoning or meditative experience. Like a Mercedes that can be taken apart, broken down to its components, and even to its constituent atoms, where does the car begin and end? In the same way, where does the self begin and end? Whether car, washing machine or self - they're just terms of convenience. Labels.

We may love our car, but we are really loving the appearance of something pigeonholed by the mind. If we were to say 'I love my collection of atoms' it'd sound very strange, but it's closer to the truth. We are attached to appearances, though we don't like to admit it.

If we really want to treat the cause of unhappiness we have to give a big injection of Vitamin I (insight) to this sense of a necessarily existing self in the same way as we dismantled the Mercedes. The experience of the self is like mistaking a piece of rope for a snake in the middle of the night. We project form and meaning onto something which doesn't necessarily possess those qualities and we jump through the roof. When we turn on the light, however, our pulse rate goes down and our sense of relief increases.

In fact, a sense of relief, lightness of mind and happiness flood back when we examine phenomena, including our sense of self, in this way.

It's rather refreshing living in a country where Christmas is a total non-event.

Everything is as normal: no decorations, no hype, no crowds of people crawling over one another to buy presents nobody actually wants anyway. No schmaltzy Coca-Cola ads. No pressure.

The West perceives places like this (Nepal)as somewhat less developed, backwards or even primitive... whilst its own citizens are herded like mindless sheep into shopping malls and supermarkets by the sound of sleigh bells, glitzy jingles on TV and bits of hanging tinsel, to spend money they don't have on things that are not needed.

It's fine to buy things for the people we care about, but we also need to keep some sense of perspective.

If, for you, Christmas is about showing others how much you care about them then why not just be nice to them or even tell them how you feel - rather than rack up a tonne of debt and create a mountain of plastic gifts to hide behind.

For Buddhists, every day should be a going back to basics, a return to the source.

So many of us - and I'm talking particularly about non-Tibetans from the Vajrayana tradition - are on such a magical, Buddhist ego-trip to La-La Land that we've lost sight of the springboard that launched us into the clouds as well as our destination.

To my understanding, Buddhism is a simple philosophy which teaches the causes of suffering and the means to overcome it. These means range from the simple to the complex, but they all have the same aim.

Over the years there has been much cultural and superstitious overlay that has grown up around Buddhism; also, for good and for ill, Buddhism has been shackled to a scholastic system that has (directly or indirectly) kept the vibrancy and immediacy of its message from the ears of those who have most needed to hear it. (In my opinion, this is why Buddhism *really* died out in India and is dwindling in Nepal.)

Yet, even the most high-faluting words and treatises of scholars mainly are just interpreting how Buddhism's simple message is correctly to be understood and applied so that freedom from suffering can be achieved. They point us back to basics.

The highest of teachings from all Buddhist yanas ultimately point us backwards in this way, to simplicity. Our journey as (Vajrayana) practitioners is not about collecting restricted, secret teachings or engaging in arcane rituals or practicing the most fearful-looking yidam in the market place, but about recognising that through these skilful means, with the correct intention and application, we can achieve that simplicity which is conducive to happiness: abiding in the uncontrived nature of mind, free from elaboration.

Too many times I've heard people talk with seeming authority about the Yogas of Naropa, or the benefits of Yidam x over Yidam y but look blankly when asked about the Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path or the Links of Dependent Origination. In craving the exotic, we can overlook the simple truth that is staring us in the face.

The destination for us Buddhist-types really is a return to the springboard from which we sprung on our magical trip through the ether, with the realisation that there's nowhere to spring from and no need to spring anywhere anyway. Everything is about returning to the source, to simplicity, so that we can gain insight into the nature of mind.

If you make a positive difference to someone else’s life, it is enough.

If you step forward to help strangers with no concern for your own time, safety or resources; welcome the lonely to your table or remain present for someone as the world abandons them; bring cheer to the forlorn, direction to the lost or inspiration to the despondent; hold the hand of the anxious, walk into the darkness with those who fear or cause hard, stony hearts to soften; if you are a loving parent, a loyal friend or a faithful partner; if you find your happiness in others’ well being - what more do you need to accomplish in this lifetime?

You have already become like those songs that bring tears to lovers’ eyes, a flash of beauty, a cause for celebration, the delight of gods and humans, a beacon blazing in the night.

The clouds have lifted, the rain has stopped (quite an event in this part of India) and the sun is shining - and once again nature mirrors the human mind.

Even though I know this isn't going to last for long it doesn't stop me from enjoying the moment, fleeting as it may be.

The clouds always lift, eventually, and we can sunbathe again before too long - something to remember the next time we're caught up in some 'negative weather conditions'... in our own heads.