Sacred Monkey Forest and the unholy monkey-mind
- ottokallin
- Nov 20, 2016
- 5 min read
By now I my body is so used to getting up early that I am out of bed without an alarm almost before the sky has begun to lighten. I head out thinking that might be able to get some pictures of the sunrise through one of Bali’s many iconic gateways. But outside the town is already bustling with people. Pickup trucks stand lined up along the main road selling troves of coconuts, sacks of rice and a hundred other fruits and vegetables I don’t have the names for. Every local in Ubud seems to be out grocery shopping, this is probably the only time they have before the streets get overcrowded. Such an odd existence, dictating your lives to the tides of tourists.
Since I am heading to the monkey forest later I buy myself two bundles of small bananas for the monkeys and a handful of snakeskin fruit for me. When I feel done wandering the morning market I realize the sun is already risen, so I head back to my homestay where they serve a breakfast of Balinese pancakes, which are for some reason are green but taste just fine none the less. Afterwards I pack the bananas in a backpack and head for the monkey forest.
At the entrance there is a sign warning tourists about the monkeys lack of respect for personal property, telling us to keep our belongings such as phones and glasses tucked away safely.
Well inside I walk the shaded jungle path, scanning the surrounding trees for signs of the furry critters. I pass between humongous trees draped with vines and statues of benevolent looking moneys deities and other magnificent beings of stone.
I leave the stream of visitors behind and walk up the steps of a wide stone staircase. To my right there is an wide open glade filled with standing stones. The stones are carved and I realize that they are tiny monkey graves. Then I see one. Sitting alone among the stones staring off into the distance.
It turns towards me with a quizzical look. I pull out a banana from my pocket while whistling for its attention. Immediately I am at its center of its universe and it comes scuttling over the tombstones towards me. I hand it one of my many small bananas and for a moment it’s little baby size fingers close around mine. Then it snatches the banana from my hand, jumping back tear into the feast. Other monkeys have appeared from I don’t know where and suddenly I find myself surrounded by the furry creatures. They are also hungry and not shy about showing it. I can’t hand out the bananas fast enough. They tug at my clothes, clutching and clambering onto me with their tiny hands, they are a lot stronger than they look. And for some, one banana is not enough, they want two or three. One of them sees where I keep the bundle and decides to jump onto my back, shoving a hand into my pocket. The little sneak-thief snags the bundle and tries to make off with them for himself. It seems to be too heavy for him however and running on its hind legs the others soon catch up to him. The bananas are stolen in turn and spread among the bigger, badder monkeys.
I stand left behind, feeling an odd combination of insulted and abandonment. My clothes are disheveled and covered, I realize, in dirty little hand prints. Darn mugger monkeys!
Luckily for them I have another bundle in my backpack but I decide to hand this one out more sparingly.
I walk back, passing the temple proper and following a wooden bridge suspended along a creek that runs through the monkey forest. By the side of the path, in the shadow of a leaf, as large as an umbrella, a mother monkey is picking through the fur of the baby clinging tightly to her stomach. I decide she could use a banana and reach one out to her. Her hands close tight around my fingers and for a second and I imagine I am seeing gratefulness in her eyes. Feeling that hand, so much like my own, and seeing that look in her eyes I can not help but feel a kinship with these creatures.
Not too long ago we used to be just like them, some seven thousand generations past. Biologically speaking that is not an especially long time. We still share 97% of our DNA with chimpanzees, wrap your head around that for a second, all that makes us human is in those 3%, the rest is monkey. It is not strange that we live in such a fucked up world, where war and famine are still problems and Trump has become president. Our minds are still tuned to that tribal monkey way of thinking
We all have the capabilities within us, both for greed and pettiness but also for generosity and compassion, just like those monkeys. One thing I strive to do to get away from my petty nature is to practice meditation on a daily basis. It helps me keep my focus on who I am now and who I want to become instead of who I used to be.
It goes back to what I said yesterday about Ubud not being a very good place practice to meditation. It is hard to think clearly in the midst of all that noise and traffic. But if you were to take your bike and drive in the middle of the night, only say ten-fifteen minutes in a direction of your choice, then you will find yourself in a completely different environment. There is a stillness to the country side that was absent during the busy hours of the day. Listen to how the rice fields sound at night, I found this extremely soothing.
My apologies for the dogs holding nightly discussions in the background. But actually they remind me of the next point I wanted to make.
If you go into meditation believing the goal is to have no thoughts, then you are deluding yourself. Since actively trying not to think still would requires thoughts which then renders the whole thing pointless.
Instead meditation is about detaching from our compulsive thinking. Accepting whatever thoughts may arise but without attaching any substance to them. They are just thoughts after all. And by practicing this you create a breathing space within you, hampering the effect your impulses has on your daily mood and overall well being.
It is not about silencing the barking of the dogs, it is about enjoying the peaceful sounds of the rice paddy.
I think Russel Brand said it best in his book, Revolution.
“...Eventually (When you have been sitting for a while) the busy, chattering “monkey-mind” accepts what is happening and just sort of fucks off to saleep.”
I want to share with you, in my first ever sponsored content. Or actually, since I don’t get paid for it perhaps better call it a promotion.
I’ve been using the meditation app Calm for about three months now. It is a free to use smartphone application and it’s a superb beginners tool and great for keeping up with the daily practice. You get seven daily meditations and a bundle of meditative audio-loops that are way better than anything I could record and 100% free of barking dogs.
I had some dealings with them back when I first bought the app and their support was great, they helped me set up the link bellow so if you decide to buy the full version you can use the link provided for a 25% discount. The full version has hundreds more guided meditations on subjects ranging from calming anxiety to cultivating happiness as well as a new guided session every day and a vastly expanded audio archive.
25% discount
http://www.calm.com/rewritereality
Apple
https://itunes.apple.com/se/app/calm-meditation-techniques/id571800810?mt=8
Android
https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.calm.android
