private practice
Yoga Hits Bangkok
Yoga hit Bangkok around 1950 when the master, then himself about fifty years of age, decided to return to the land of his birth. Formerly Siam, it was now called Thailand, a rapidly modernizing Southeast Asian country built on the three inviolable pillars of Nation, Religion and Royalty.As previously mentioned (Sritantra, 2002c), in 1902 when the monarch passed the Sangha Act, an "official" form of standardized Buddhism was imposed over the whole of Siam's extended realm. One by one, the various kingdoms came increasingly under the centralized control of Bangkok's religious authorities. Political changes followed as well. With the bloodless revolution of 1932, Thailand ceased to be an absolute monarchy and established its present day constitutional monarchy along lines similar to the British model. Consequently, royalty has staunchly remained as a sacrosanct pillar of the Thai Triumvirate. This is institutionally ritualised in the cult of the Devarāja as adopted by Siamese kings from their royal Khmer predecessors as early as the 14th century.
The Path of Facing Life's Difficulties
The master resettled in the city of his birth, that "Venice of the East," Bangkok, Thailand. He set aside all ostentatious dress and firmly resolved to earn his living. He had already lived that marginal life of 'a hermit buried in meditation, keeping his body and soul together with scraggly morsels. He had actually found it quite an easy thing to retire from the world to the safe, though comfortless seclusion of a cave. He also understood that for some this indeed was the necessary path for which they should be respected and revered, so long as they are willing and able to abandon every form of social responsibility. But such a form of yoga is really quite different from the yoga of those who choose the path of facing life's difficulties and troubles without evading them'[15].
Guru Chod was fond of the writer Sir Paul Dukes who, echoing the sentiments of Rudyard Kipling, soundly expressed his own heart-felt conviction.
Yoga in its highest sense teaches us how to face up to life, surmount its trials and tribulations, unenslaved by its transient treasures and meretricious delights. It trains us not to shirk emergency, but 'to meet triumph and disaster and treat those two impostors just the same.' On this high level, Yoga shows us how to be in the world and yet not of it. This is the true sense in which one should retire from the world. The goal of all yoga, wherever and in whatever form one practices it, is self-conquest, the mastery of thought and emotion[16].Editor-in-Chief
With his decades of experience in international journalism, the talented newsman found that he was able to quite literally "write his own ticket" in Bangkok. He quickly took on demanding posts as editor-in-chief of prominent Thai and English language newspapers, sometimes running two papers at once. He made the Thai capital his vocational base for the next four decades to come.
It was during the period following his return that the master took a sixteen-year-old girl for his wife. He also opened his house – at that time located on Soi Wattanayothin – to the public as a type of Yoga Institute. This was not done commercially, but in the spirit of social service. There was never any need to advertise either. "When a flower blooms," his guru had told him, "it does not send out invitation cards. The bees come by themselves." Mornings he directed open asana sessions and attended to those in need of special therapy. He accepted people without obligation and allowed them to come whenever they liked.
This double occupation as conservator and editor was faithfully maintained for twenty-five years. But pressing deadlines and assignments abroad often forced his yoga to take a back seat. For example, every fourth year he dispatched himself to Washington to cover the United States presidential elections. "It was nice," he said. "I was able to travel wherever I liked. I just took a camera and wrote a story." A notable example was in 1959 when thousands of Tibetans were fleeing across the Himalayan ranges in advance of invading Chinese troops. And there was the master in Dehra Dun, India, waiting to receive the young Dalai Lama.
After his lunch, he would drive to the office. He had to take care not to let his love for yoga interfere with his duties as a leading national editor. For professional negligence decreed dire consequence. "The hardest thing about being an editor" he said, "was making sure that my reporters didn't write anything disrespectful about the Royal Family or the Government. Because if they did they'd go to jail – and I'd have to go to jail with them! Ha!" Then he let loose a great big belly laugh. "But none of my reporters ever went to jail." He affirmed with resumed composure.
Chod maintained his correspondent's status throughout his decades of family life. He filed reports with Associated Press and other distinguished international agencies. Such lofty credentials were able to gain him passage through many a well-sealed door. He extensively explored the Southeast Asian region and learned to read it like the back of his hand. He wove and shuttled from country to country making such romantically evocative cities as Mandalay, Luang Prabang, Phnom Penh and Angkor Vat his frequent haunts of fascination. His unimpeded access to the Indo-China states throughout the brutal years of French and American warfare yielded him perspectives unattainable to most. This accounts for his amassing an exceptional archive pertaining to that twenty-year "post-war conflict," which finally ended with the 1975 flight of the defeated Americans from Saigon.
His professional travels had a lighter side as well. He was especially enamoured by the northern Burmese City of Mandalay. "I went to Mandalay about twenty times," he told me. This was the day before my own scheduled flight to Rangoon.
"Twenty times?" The present writer echoed his words.
"Yes," he replied and smiled very broadly. "I had a good friend there with a beautiful house."
Then the master turned wistful and with a tinge of resignation, said: "I'm too old to travel now though. But if I were younger I would go along with you."
My eyes grew tearful. I could not answer. The master was in his eighty-seventh year.
[Note: For most recent edition see pdf file saint guru chod (1900-1988).]
