The man in a towel and how I became a Buddhist
I couldn’t find a way to write about my path into Buddhism that didn’t involve a boring essay about my life. Until a man wearing nothing but a towel and a blazer yelled at me at a hostel.
Last week, at a hostel in Wellington, New Zealand…
I came down to reception to check out and found the receptionist and two guests having an animated conversation. Insults were being thrown but the sarcasm in their voices had me thinking they were friends having a banter.
It wasn’t until the receptionist started calling the police that I noticed that the male guest, who was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and a brown, tweed blazer, was actually seriously offending them.
I approached the counter and stood between the female guest and the towel guy. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve done your thing. Now let us get on with our day,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm going.
This did not stop him. In fact, he was now hurling insults at me and going down the misogyny road.
Now, because of past experiences, gender-related insults are something that really makes my blood boil. My go-to reaction in these situations is to flip and I can even be physically aggressive.
But that day, I decided to act differently than I usually do, almost driven by a curiosity to see if I would achieve a different result.
As he was yelling insults at me, I asked him calmly: “What happened?”
His voice became gradually louder and the insults more creative, so I lowered my voice even more to keep asking him what was happening.
When the receptionist said the police were on their way, the man swiftly stomped back upstairs. I finally completed my check-out - as it turned out, I only had to put my keycard in a jar - and brought the shaking receptionist a glass of water.
I made my way to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast but was interrupted by a rather surprising encounter. Towel guy, who five minutes ago was yelling insults at my face, approached me. His voice and body language were calm and contained. He used an almost respectful tone to ask me quietly, “What do you think I should do?"
“If you want to put on a big show, we can’t stop you. But why don’t you make your life simpler and leave peacefully?” I suggested, having zero faith that he would follow my advice.
“Fair enough”, was his response with a sigh of resignation.
Unfortunately for him, towel guy was on his way upstairs when the officers arrived. Later, as they escorted him out under the curious eyes of other guests, he stopped by my table and said, “Have a good morning.” I wished him good luck.
That day could have ended badly. Maybe things could have taken a violent turn and everybody present would have had a shit day if not a traumatic experience. However, by choosing not to add more chaos into this insane world, towel guy and I were able to change the result.
This is very powerful: it’s a small situation in a hostel in New Zealand, but life is nothing but a series of small situations.
I can’t say whether I’ll be able to act this way next time I’m in similar circumstances, but the decision I made to act differently is the result of being in contact with the Buddhist teachings over the past 2 years.
And the first results came on the very first day I set foot in a temple: Buddhism made my hair cleaner.
In 2021, at the Wat Phan Tong temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand…
I walked out of the temple and took the Bolt back to the coliving space, a type of accommodation for digital nomads.
My friends, who did not know I had just attended a one-day Buddhist retreat at the temple, pointed out straight away: “You look so refreshed and lighter!”. Maybe I should look into reducing the usual frown on my face, but the truth is I had been impacted.
I went back to my room and headed to the shower. With the teachings on mindfulness fresh in my head, instead of giving in to that urge to overthink that only comes in the shower, I washed my hair while paying attention to every movement. I did it slowly, ensuring I covered every section with shampoo and that I rinsed it thoroughly. I was only thinking about washing my hair and nothing else.
“Shit, my hair is so clean!” I thought as soon as it dried. I realised I hadn’t washed my hair properly for years because I was too stuck inside my own head.
“The Buddha doesn’t demand our faith and allegiance, nor are we condemned if we hold different views”
Venerable Thubten Chodron, “Open Heart, Clear Mind”.
What the monk Phra KK shared at the Chiang Mai temple differed from anything I had seen in a religion. He showed me a religion that is realistic, encourages you to question it, and just makes sense.
You can learn the Dharma, the Buddhist teachings, and apply them to your life if you want and feel ready to do so. There is no punishment for non-Buddhists. There is no repentance if you commit a sin, which also doesn’t exist in the Dharma. You are absolutely encouraged to question the teachings until you can fully grasp them. It’s a religion that teaches love and compassion - like all the religions I know of do - but there is no price to pay in return, no catches, no small print.
Initially, I followed it as a life philosophy like many people from other religions do. But as I acquired more knowledge and felt the benefits of the Dharma in my life—from having cleaner hair to stopping a guy in a towel from ruining everybody’s day— I started following it as a religion.
However, I don’t think I would have been ready for the teachings in my 20s. This is the last story I’ll tell and it’s heavy. But, it took me a heavy blow to put me on a more mentally healthy path.
We’re in 2018, in Manchester, UK…
I got something in the mail. A letter from the UK’s Home Office stating that my Tier 2 work visa had been curtailed due to my job redundancy and that, therefore, I had 60 days to leave the country.
It was a rainy Monday in Manchester. On the previous rainy Saturday, my ex had left the house we shared. And on a rainy Thursday before that, I had found out I was pregnant. It rains a lot in Manchester.
What followed was ultimate chaos. My life fell apart. But this whirlwind started long before.
I had moved to the UK 7 years prior with my mind set on working in the British music business. Nothing wrong there, except that when I say “with my mind set”, I don’t mean, “Oh, it would be really nice if I managed to get a job in the music industry”. The mindset I am referring to was one of “I WILL ONLY BE HAPPY WHEN I GET A JOB IN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY.”
I worked really hard to build a CV that would make companies want to undergo the tough process of sponsoring a foreigner in the UK. I was even offered my dream job twice, but it never happened because of the tough visa restrictions.
Eventually, I was sponsored for a job in a different industry. My plan was to survive in that job for 5 years until I got permanent residence and could work wherever I wanted. Yes, “survive” was the word I used to use.
However, Brexit came and brought layoffs with it. I was made redundant only 1 year before I was due to apply for permanent residence.
Life stomped on my sandcastle and then took a shit on it by having me fall pregnant with the baby of a guy with the emotional intelligence of a bag of frozen peas. Not that I had any intelligence myself either. I had just put all my happiness into one specific scenario that had to happen and thought I could live life numbly until it happened.
“We think we are the centre of the universe but our biggest problem is the rest of the universe doesn’t realise we are the centre of it!”
Venerable Thubten Chodron in one of her teachings.
The other day, I was recollecting this period of my life with my therapist, and I told him: “That period is the sanest I have ever been.”
I learned to look for contentment internally instead of trying to bend the outside world to match my expectations of it.
And between the time I found out about my pregnancy and the abortion, the outside world was hell, so I had no choice but to find relief in the small things.
After my ex came home to threaten me at 6 in the morning, I focused on the warm feeling of having a roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in. After reading a text from his mother saying her doctor friends said I could die from this pregnancy, I focused on the feeling of relief from having food in the cupboard. And after terminating a call with yet another immigration lawyer, I was very glad I had enough money in my account to keep me going for a while.
By the time I had had an abortion, left the UK, and given myself another chance at life, my mindset had shifted permanently. There was still a lot of anger and a heightened sense of self-preservation, but I felt alive.
When I freed myself from the attachment to the things I wanted and thought were good for me, life became interesting.
Being more knowledgeable about the teachings now, I know that, even after that important realisation, there was still a lot of misinterpretation of reality there. But it was a first step in the right direction.
If you’re curious about Buddhism and would like to learn more, I really like the book The Four Noble Truths: The Foundation of Buddhist Thought by Geshe Tashi Tsering. There’s also a monastery in the US, Sravasti Abbey, founded by Venerable Thubten Chodron, whom I quoted several times here. They post some really good content on YouTube. These two resources are palatable and great for dipping your toes into the teachings.
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