Korken's Peaceful Warrior Journey

KORKEN'S PEACEFUL WARRIOR JOURNEY

Sunday, September 25, 2011

But I Want to Be Remembered!

Life has yet again pulled me in a different direction.  I came to Guatemala following my heart & loved my six weeks at the Mystical Yoga Farm.  You see, I had planned to stay there for six months but had no attachments to that plan.  My intuition has brought me a 30-minute boat ride away to a magical, tiny town called San Marcos (Atitlan). 

My last  two weeks in this town of 2,500 people have been incredibly eye-opening.  I won´t bore you with too much detail just yet.  I´m taking the Moon Course at a place called Las Pyramides, one of the coolest places I´ve ever been, hands down. 

Sitting in self-reflection and deep meditation one night in my little cabin, I came upon a thought that put this entire journey into perspective.  It´s what initially pulled me away from my life in the states, and now my heart felt that I was ready to understand it.  As you read the rest of this post, I only ask that you stay open to what I´m about to share.  Two months ago, I would have thought this point of view was self-defeating, useless, and insane.  I feel honored to be able to share it with you.  

When I left LA back in August, I wasn´t really sure why I was leaving, but I trusted my incredible intuition and went wherever it asked me to go.  Sometimes a reason is not provided for you, mostly because you´re not yet ready to comprehend it.  And then at one point in your journey it´s revealed to you, and it all makes sense.  An epiphany, really. 

In LA, I was frustrated with where my life was going because my heart was going in one direction, and I was unknowingly ignoring it and running in the opposite direction.  And one night I finally stopped resisting my heart´s pleas, sat down, and listened to what it had to say.  But unlike most people who treat their hearts like little children, I said to hell with fear and sacrifice and totally changed the direction I was heading.  I stopped running and began to walk, taking in everything around me, being patient and present, trusting that I was in good hands.  I put my entire career on hold (not knowing if I´d ever come back to it), got on a plane, and found myself alone in a foreign country, not exactly sure why I had come there in the first place. 

The message I had been given was ´step outside of yourself and be of service to others.´ Although the message was rather vague, I felt at peace knowing that my heart was choosing the places I would be going.  But little did I know my whole perspective on life would be forever changed. 

I´ve immersed myself in the polar opposite of the type of life that I was living in the states.  I wake up every morning at 6am, meditate, practice yoga, and be of service to the earth and others.  It´s a way of life based heavily on spirituality and self-reflection.  The material world has completely disappeared around me- no car, no career, no phone, no computer, no NOTHING, right?!

My good friend in LA asked me a month ago if it was possible to come back to LA and pursue my acting career, yet continue living with the principles I have learned so far on this journey.  In other words, how would I find that spiritual/material balance in the acting world?  At that time, I told him I had no idea.  I honestly didn´t think I could go back to acting after living in such bliss and clarity in Guatemala.

But creativity and my love for the arts is still alive and burning inside of me.  I can´t deny that I really miss it. 'I don´t want to look back 30 years from now and regret sacrificing my passion and gifts,' is a thought that has often crossed my  mind these last two months. I felt I was being led down a path that would eventually ask me to do just that.  Part of me felt that I was giving up too much, while the other part of me was convinced it was the right path. 

And then two nights ago everything changed, as the universe offered me a deal I could not refuse.
It was the perfect balance to the imbalance and resentment that was rapidly building up inside of me.  And I suddenly realized why I had left LA in the first place.

My ultimate goal in LA was to be the top film actor/producer in the biz.  Quite a goal, huh?  I recited this goal with conviction every morning and did everything in my power to get me closer to it.  Every rejection, every ounce of resistance made me want it even more.  I was convinced that I was after it for the right reasons.  ´When I have that type of clout, I can do projects that will move, educate, and bring great awareness to others.  I can even start my own charitable foundation because I will have money,´ I thought to myself. But underneath all that wonderful clarity and charity was one hell of an ugly monster- Desire.  And not just any desire, but the basic human desire to feel important.  ´I want to be remembered damnit!,' my ego would scream in my ear.

You see, as much as I wanted to do good in this world, my vision was obscured by my selfish, natural desires.  I wanted the world to know who I was.  I wanted to be awarded for my hard work, talents, and contributions.  I wanted validation and love and purpose!!!  I needed it!  But my heart knew better.  It knew I was headed down a dangerous road.  A road the majority of us feel we must follow.  But there´s another road that will bring us much more peace, joy, and happiness.  It´s a road that lacks resistance and suffering, free of the ego´s decadent needs and desires.  It´s called the 'Road of Selfless Service.'

My heart wasn't asking me to give up my passions and creativity.  It was simply trying to free me from my pain. 

A Course in Miracles says 'Have no regret on giving up the pleasures of the world.  Is it a sacrifice to give up pain?'

This pain is not a physical pain but rather a subconscious one.  It´s the pain at the center of our lack of self worth, unhappiness, and constant stress and worry.  Our need to have purpose in this world and feel important is the root of this pain.  Some people call it ambition or desire.  But those are just buttery words used to conceal this ultimate need for importance/worth.  Believe me, this is not easy to fully understand the first time you hear it.  Let me put it into context. 

The corporate world is the perfect example.  Most people are attracted to it for 3 reasons: money, validation, or power.  Can we agree that the root of all 3 is the feeling of importance?  How many people do you know in the corporate world who absolutely love what they are doing?  Maybe 1%, maybe, at best.  Most of my performer friends are saying, 'Well yeah, that's exactly why I ran the other way.  I didn't want that.'  Well, let's go ahead and dissect the artistic world.  Believe it or not, it's an even clearer example. 

My professional performer friends, please answer these questions honestly.  Do you want to be a household name?  Do you want to be on Broadway or have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame?  Do you want to win a Tony, Oscar, or Grammy?  Do you want to prove all your doubters wrong?  Do you want to be remembered and revered for your work?  Do you want to be known as the very best in your field?  If you answered 'no' to all of these questions, then you are the very rare exception.  Notice that all of these desires are once again tied to the feeling of importance.

Here´s another question for you.  Would you continue doing what you´re doing in life if you knew your work would never be recognized or complimented, but would bring incredible awareness, love, and peace to everyone and everything that came into contact with it?  In other words, would you anonymously share your gifts and talents to really make a difference in this world?  (Imagine walking into a job interview or audition with that perspective- think of the huge rock that would be lifted from your shoulders).  You might be asking, 'Well, then what´s the point of living? And where would I find my motivation or inspiration?'  Consider this statement:  Our purpose in life is not about us at all, but rather about everything within us and around us. 

When you can honestly answer the last question with a 'yes,' you will experience the greatest freedom you have ever felt, and the inspiration will be flooding into your life.  Letting go of individual desire will allow you to experience so much abundance, joy, and peace in your life.  Using your talents and passions to provide selfless service to the universe. 

As a performer this means choosing or creating projects that will actually make a difference in people's lives, even if it means never being a film star or getting that coveted award or recognition.  As a doctor/nurse- providing your services to people around the world who really need your help, even if the financial gains are minimal.  You get the idea. 

'All pleasures and desires of the world mean nothing.'   Tao te Ching

Imagine a world where people embraced forgiveness, gratitude, and unconditional love, instead of money, power, and recognition.  We are all capable of greatness if we step into our light.  If you're stuck doing a job only for the money, you are running away from your true potential.  If you're experiencing resistance, frustration, and unhappiness, you are keeping yourself in a prison cell that has a wide open door.  Once you release yourself from this universal pain and ask the universe, 'How can I use the gifts you have given me to be of selfless service to the beautiful world around me?, all you will have to do is listen.  Your heart will guide you every step of the way and provide you with everything you will need (including money).  All you have to do is trust.

Only you can lead yourself into your light.  Only you can unlock your greatness.  And when you do, you will positively affect so many lives, live into your ultimate purpose, and leave an incredible mark on this world that you never dreamed possible... even if no one remembers you. 

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

What the Cluck?

This entry begins with the 2nd story I promised you all.

What the Cluck?
Depending on how long you've known me, most of you know about my chicken clucking talents.  I've been refining and perfecting my clucking gift since middle school.  I've always wanted to live on a farm with chickens and cluck away with them night and day!  And I finally got my wish!  But let's not put the chicken before the egg here (bawk!)  This story is less about the chickens than it is about the bizarre event that led to fulfilling one of my childhood dreams.

Nick, Julia, Randi, (my bosom buddies on the farm), and I had a mission: Get some chickens to the farm!  We had heard that we could buy some in the neighboring town of Chakaya, the only town within walking distance to our farm.  Off we went, carrying a small cardboard box and a large straw bag, ecstatic about the idea of having our own chickens.

The trail to Chakaya is anything but flat, with its narrow, winding pathway, and rocky structure.  One misstep and you could find yourself rolling down a small hill and splashing into Lake Atitlan.  "How are we going to get these chickens back to the farm coming back?" I thought.  And in a cardboard box?!  What were we thinking?  But somehow, we all felt confident this would go very smoothly.

After the fifteen minute, semi-treacherous walk, we finally reached Chakaya.  And boy was I unimpressed.  The town has one dirt road that runs through its one-mile radius of one rundown building after another.  There are a few small convenience stores (if you even want to call them that), a make-shift  health clinic, a handful of churches (you gotta have those), and a couple food stands that help decorate the otherwise desperately barren ambience.  Stray dogs look at you with disdain, making you feel very unwelcome.  If it wasn't for the lake generously gracing this town with her presence, the locals would have probably left many years ago...or so I thought.  Little did I know that the real shocker was still a ten-minute 'hike-up-a-steep-hill' away.


As we made our way further and further into town, it was obvious that the locals were not used to having visitors that looked like us or really visitors period.

The looks on these people's faces were priceless- especially the little children!  I felt like a celebrity walking through their drubby, little town.  They couldn't stop smiling, and I couldn't stop waving to them!  One chubby-cheeked child after another waved back to me, their eyes glowing with curiosity, their faces carrying a smile that could melt all your troubles away.  The streets were strewn with trash, stray dogs and chickens were running a muck, dirt covered the faces, hands, and bare feet of these children, yet they still found a way to warmly welcome visitors to their town with their incredible smiles.

Shortly after, we found ourselves hiking up a steep hill, dodging empty coke bottles, candy wrappers, and random pieces of torn clothing with every step.  The trail was muddy, thanks to the merciless Guatemalan rain, and the smell of feces perfumed the air, making the already difficult climb even more unbearable.  A sudden "MOO" startled us all, as we found an enormous cow standing only a few feet away, hiding in the brush.  I felt an urge to go and pet it, but my LA conditioning quickly pulled me in the opposite direction, as I realized I had fallen behind the pack.  Quickening my pace, I caught up with the other three, who were already transfixed by what awaited us at the top of the hill.

One by one, little heads started popping out of every corner of this small community.  The news of our arrival had spread like wildfire and men, women, and children alike wanted to get a peek at the 4-piece circus that was coming through town.  Giggles and high-pitched 'Holas' greeted us with such warmth, creating a wonderful, mini symphony around us as we made it to the top of the hill.  It became quite evident that these people never got visitors, especially not ones that looked like us.  We felt like the Beatles in the 70s, making the performer in me want to burst out into song or give a big speech.  But as we finally made it to our destination, it was very clear that I was going to be the audience, witnessing a spectacle that could easily give Broadway's The Lion King a run for its money.

We were now right in front of the house where our soon-to-be chickens lived.  20-25 Guatemalans of all ages encircled us, curiosity draped over their dark, shining faces.  Children ran around with great excitement, their little faces, bare feet and hands decorated in dirt.  Chickens were everywhere- many different sizes and colors- pecking away at the cornmeal thrown all over the ground by the matriarch of the family.  The man of the house came out of his little, make-shift, rundown home and greeted us with a huge smile, revealing his many missing teeth, his big, bare belly lazily hanging over his tiny waist.  A shower was something completely elusive to him, as he looked about one week unbathed. His ragged, torn pants were barely able to cling to his waist, allowing his happy trail to lead to his enchanted forest below.  And in the midst of this chaos, another form of enchantment was taking place directly to our left.

At first all I saw was this bronze, full figure smiling at me, an abundance of peace, tranquility, and joy in her eyes.  There was a fascinating aura around her, as she was holding the peace amongst all the discord.
After these few captivating seconds, I was able to fully take in what was actually happening.  She had a rusty pail full of lake water propped on a tree stump beside her, an over-used sponge in one hand, and a bar of soap in the other.  The sun was glowing on her unashamed nudity, as she cupped each of her large breasts, gently lathering them with a coat of soap (This is not a romantic novel people!  But it is very important that I paint this picture for you with colorful detail).  Talk about living moment to moment.  This woman was totally unfazed by our presence and continued to go about her business, as if what she was doing was completely normal.  In fact, in that very moment, that word- normal -became rather insignificant.

So here we were, surrounded by screaming children, chickens, and even turkeys; being greeted by a toothless, disheveled patriarch in the middle of a community that made the 'projects' look like Bel Air.  We all suddenly remembered why we had come: chickens.  Nick, using his fine Spanish-speaking skills, began to barter with the woman feeding the chickens.  One-by-one chickens were snatched up by the family members and brought into a small circle surrounding this woman.  These were the chickens she was willing to part with.  Before we could even begin sizing them up, one of the teenage girls came running out of the house, grabbing one of the small chickens, holding it to her chest, and kissing the top of its head.  She hurried back into the house just as fast as she had come out.  As silly as it may have seemed to the others, I totally empathized with the girl.  "Chickens are lovely creatures, after all," I thought.

Most of the chickens the matriarch was selling were very young, but she insured us they would start laying eggs within six months.  We decided to buy 5 of them from her for 20 Quetzeles (about 3 dollars) a piece.  I couldn't believe it.  $3 for a live chicken!  Crazy.

Now we had to choose the five.  Three of them were an obvious chose, with their beautiful, colorful feathers.  I spotted a black one and was immediately drawn to it.  It wasn't inside this 'chicken circle' but I figured I'd grab it and ask the lady if we could buy it.  Little did I know, I would be chasing it for 5 minutes to no avail (please insert your own interpretation of how that may have looked here). What took the family members mere seconds to do, seemed almost impossible to me.  Needless to say, we didn't take 'Blackie' home, which kind of broke my heart.

We reluctantly had to choose the two remaining chickens who didn't have feathers covering their necks.  Nick thought they were ugly, and we collectively decided to call one of them Gandhi.  The other would later be named Cluck.  Neither of the two survived the coming weeks, but I will always remember little Cluck and Gandhi.

We put all five chickens in the large straw bag that we had brought, and they shockingly seemed comfortable, all huddled up next to one another.  I asked if I could carry them home and laid the bag over my shoulder, as we said our thank yous and good byes.  Our exit was just as exciting, with all the children running after us, flashing their big smiles and waving their tiny hands as we began making our way down the steep hill.

The journey back home was a quiet one.  The treacherous trail that brought us to Chakaya was not so treacherous on the way back, even with 5 chickens hanging over my shoulders.  You see, I began to realize how powerful my mind really was.  The experience in Chakaya had put me in a place that made me forget how 'dangerous' the trail actually was.  But was it really that dangerous or was that just my mind's point of view?  For the Guatemalans who took this trail every day to work, I'm sure it wasn't dangerous at all.  They probably saw it as a beautiful trail that allowed them to witness a breath-taking view of the lake every day.

I began to think about the people we met in Chakaya.

They had no televisions, toasters, central air, or cars.  Their homes were barely liveable, and their living conditions were difficult to comprehend by an outside pair of eyes. Their children didn't have many toys, and were running around in clothes that had probably been passed down many generations.  I'm not even sure the children received any kind of education.  In fact,  almost all of the adults had less than a third grade education.  But they let it all hang out (literally) and could care less about what we outsiders thought of them.

With one percent of the luxuries we have in the states, these people were happier than most Americans.  They lived their lives moment to moment and got by as best they could.  They didn't have much in terms of possessions, but they were living in abundance.  You could see it on all of their smiling, glowing faces.  They had each other and that was all they needed.