Meditation, Fire, and the An Lac Mission/Ventura Buddhist Center

Everyone in Ventura has a fire story. Some aren't too bad, people inconvenienced by stores, schools and other businesses being closed. Others are really bad, waking up in the middle of the night, no power in their house and just enough time to quickly grab what they could and hop in the car to drive off into the night.

My story is in the middle. We were supposed to evacuate but didn't. We lost power and had to boil water, and we were close enough to the fires to watch and hear houses burn to the ground. But my house, though covered in ash, came out okay.

So, my fire story starts with a book called Buddhism for Dudes, by Gerry Stribling, that I picked up at a used book store in Arizona. I've felt that my mind has been a bit cluttered of late, and I thought that perhaps some meditation might help me clear it out. Buddhism for Dudes was short and cheap, and the first chapter is "Buddhism, No Bullshit." Written by an ex-marine, I knew it couldn't be too fru-fru, so I gave it a whirl.

It was a short read, and I'm probably going to read it again in the next few weeks. One of the things it said was that if you want to learn to meditate, most Buddhist temples offer meditation sessions a few times a week for free! The monks in the temple are more than happy to welcome beginners, and host a discussion after the session. The book suggested leaving a small donation, which seemed more than reasonable.

So, if you ever look at the other site I was working on, Pictures of Ventura Churches, you'll see a picture of the An Lac Mission. I checked their website, and sure enough, The Ventura Buddhist Center does offer meditation on Monday and Thursday evenings. So, I psyched myself up for a new experience, and on Monday, Dec. 4, I got into my car to drive to the east end of town.

While driving down Foothill, I noticed that the moon seemed huge-the effects of the 'Supermoon' of the night before. Then, Foothill curved toward Santa Paula, and as I approached Saticoy Ave., I could see a glow in the distance. I wasn't sure, but thought it could be a fire in Santa Paula. It was a warm evening, with the predicted Santa Ana winds starting to blow, but I wasn't overly concerned, and went into the temple to try meditation.

About a dozen of us were gathered in the temple, which was filled with incense and the sound of recorded chanting. I thought I'd try sitting on a pillow, though next time I think I'll be better off sitting in a chair. It was peaceful, but as I tried the basic meditation technique of focusing on my breathing and counting to ten, my mind would constantly wander off, and I'd have to start over again. The highest I got to was three, and even that I don't think I truly hit. Still, at the end of it all, I was calmer, and since then I've been able to focus a little better.

The monk, a very friendly and happy man, did gather us together after the session, and happily asked and answered the questions of those who stuck around. I left a $5 donation, and felt good about the whole experience.

It was around 8:30 PM when I stepped outside, and the wind had really picked up. It was very warm, unusually so for a December evening-I think I was in shorts and a sweatshirt. And when I looked toward Santa Paula, I could tell it was definitely a fire, and it had definitely grown. I could even smell the burning, meaning that the wind was blowing in my direction.

I drove up to Foothill, and on impulse, decided to drive a few minutes toward the fire. I got close enough to tell that it was big, and that I really didn't want to get any closer. I needed to walk my dog, anyway.

So I turned around and headed home. I got my dog, and we headed out. It was after 10, now, and still very warm, with the winds blowing very strong. We walked, and as I decided it was time for bed, the power went out. I was curious as to what the city looked like in the dark, so we walked up the hill behind my house, and then down one of the streets, looking out between the houses (houses that are no longer there), at the darkened city below us. A few spots were still lit, like the hospitals and a few random buildings, but for the most part the city was dark. It was fascinating.

It was also 11, and though interesting to see the city in the dark, I needed to get to bed. I started to walk down the street and down the hill. The wind was still blowing hard, and I could smell the fire, wherever it was. I continued toward home, but as I did so, I looked behind me and up the hill.

I could see the glow, and knew that the fire had gone from Santa Paula to the hills behind my house. The wind was blowing hard, and I realized that there was now a fast moving fire coming over the hill.

Twelve years ago, a fire burned the hills behind my house. It wasn't windy that time, and it happened during the day. I stayed home from work, watching the planes as they hit the deck and dropped fire retardant, and the bulldozer driver drive seemingly straight up the hill cutting fire lines. The neighbors said that the hill burnt every ten years or so, and had set up lawn chairs on their roof to watch.

So I expected the same thing to happen this time. It didn't, and I spent the night watching houses burn. Actually, watching wasn't the scary part, but listening-that was scary. I could hear the houses as they fell apart. Car alarms would randomly start as the garages the cars were in burned around them. I took pictures, but there are plenty of better ones out there.

As a side note, if your house phone is bundled with your cable, like mine, when the power goes out you lose your telephone. We got a mandatory evacuation call, but since we didn't have power, we didn't get it until the next day when the power came on again.

So as a result, I haven't been back to the Buddhist Center for meditation. I don't believe the fires and my first meditation session are related, but...

With this practice of dhamma may I be free from birth, decay, disease, and death.