Reflections from My Spiritual Journey to Sri Lanka
by Diana Schuster

I had the honor to travel to this glorious Buddhist country this past June with a Sri Lankan monk, an American monk (Bhikkhuni Vimala) receiving her ordination in Sri Lanka, and another lay person.

Shortly after our two days of traveling from America, we hit the road to sample the island, starting in a major city, working our way up the mountains, then down the coast back up to our original starting point. We climbed into a van and drove, very slowly, on bumpy roads, for hours and hours and hours each day. Almost immediately, I became car sick from the super tight mountain twists and turns and rocky roads.

I kept asking, “Are we there yet?”, wanting this uncomfortable experience to be over. I soon realized I was unable to speak, eat, and when I got upset, it got worse. The pain was extreme at times but there was no turning back.

When I surrendered and relaxed, the magic happened: I was soaking in the beauty of this gentle land, finding comfort in seeing Buddha statues and temples along the roadside. We passed farmers selling their produce, who would wave and break into huge smiles when they saw us. I watched people work contentedly in the rice and tea fields. Dogs slept on the warm pavement. I witnessed from the front seat, these proud and beautiful people celebrate the death of one of their own in a public funeral procession. Wearing all white, they carried the casket along the side of the ride, chanting, and placing a white fabric on the ground as the pallbearers proceeded to the cemetery. They were sending their loved one off with love and joy.

I watched in amazement as cars, vans, buses, two-wheelers, motorcycles carrying a family of four, bicycles, dogs, and cows coexisted on two-lane roads. It was a dance. No stop lights, horns used as courtesy, and all moved in harmony. Rarely stopping as on coming vehicles got closer, a space would open, and we would continue on our journey. There was no fear in me. The vibration was one of peace and teamwork. The more I witnessed this, the more I began to enjoy participating in this “sport” of driving.

When we came to our destination at the end of the first day, I expected to see something spectacular—over the top amazing. That’s when I realized, it’s the journey, not the destination. All those hours of observing beauty, serenity, lushness, calmness, welcoming people, a variety of wildlife, and vistas and landscape I’d never seen, I realized that I’d been in spectacular the entire day! We were now at our resting point. Each morning of our five-day excursion, I was hopeful that that day’s drive would be different for me. Unfortunately, the challenge continued for the duration of the trip. I would settle into the front seat, recline it, and soak in more beauty. Although uncomfortable, I enjoyed my silent journey. The scenery changed from mountains and waterfalls to the vastness of the ocean. We sent love to the area that had been the scene of the Tsunami. An image I hold dear was of a young water buffalo settling in to a mud pit bath on a sweltering day. He used his big floppy ears to throw water onto his back to cool himself off. “Make the best of the situation”, I felt him say to me. I stopped asking, “Are we there yet?”