Listen to your sufferings

Life has a way of calling us to places we’re meant to be, even when the journey feels daunting. I came to Bodh Gaya here with a purpose: to experience an awakening retreat, to lead the Rainbodhi SG pilgrimage and retreat, and to immerse myself in the profound stillness of meditation. And while my time here has been shorter than I hoped, it has been no less meaningful.

I arrived knowing my health wasn’t in its prime. Some might call me stubborn, others might say brave. Maybe I’m a bit of both. But here’s the thing—I didn’t want my health conditions to define what I could or couldn’t do. “You never try, you never know,” I told myself. So I packed my bags, determined to give this retreat everything I had.

Taking the Right action

This past week hasn’t been easy. Difficulties in swallowing have led to food finding its way into my lungs instead of my stomach—a frustrating and concerning misstep in my body’s mechanics diagnosed as aspiration. It all started back in Singapore, where food began making itself at home in my left lung. But now, I suspect since I have experience it before, it seems the right lung decided it wasn’t fair to be left out. It’s as though my lungs have formed a union, demanding their share of the “pie,” and I’m caught in the middle of the negotiation!

Though I’ve tried to push through with humor and hope, it’s been a physical and emotional battle. The recurring fevers, the shivering cold—it all adds up, urging me to listen to what my body is telling me.

In these moments of struggle, I’ve realised something deeply important: this body needs me, these feelings need me, these perceptions need me. The wounded parts of myself—the shivering, the vomiting, the fever, the food that pours out from my nose—they’re calling out for my attention. They’re asking for compassion and care. To heal, I have to listen.

It’s not a sign of failure to step back and take care of yourself. It’s an act of love. As I’ve come to understand, there’s wisdom in going "home" to be there for your body, your emotions, and your pain—or even better, seeking professional care to help you find your balance again.

Strength in the Struggle

This journey has reminded me that being strong doesn’t mean ignoring your struggles. It means facing them head-on, with faith that there’s growth on the other side.

I’ll hold onto the lessons from my meditation retreat—the moments of stillness, the power of awareness, and the resilience of facing this ill body. And I’ll carry them with me, even as I step into the next phase of healing.

The Hard Decision to Admit

So, I’ve decided to book the next flight to the nearest airport out of India—Bangkok. Though the trip has been shortened, the value of being here remains undiminished. I’ve accomplished what I set out to do—found a space for awakening and led the retreat with heart. I came with the intention to unselfishly share all the knowledge I have in Buddhism and meditation. At least, I know this journey was truly worth taking. I can only hope the five of them will gain much from this sick man’s efforts, as I’ve given it my all.

An Awakening Within

I came to Bodh Gaya seeking an awakening—something profound, something external.  

However, once I'm here, I realize that awakening wasn’t somewhere out there, waiting for me to discover it. It has always been in my heart, quietly present, waiting for me to turn inward and listen.

Subdue yourself, and tame your mind. This journey has reminded me that the answers I’ve been seeking lie within me, not outside of me.

If you’re reading this and feeling stuck in your own challenges, I hope you know this: It’s okay to pause, to recalibrate, and to seek help.

Strength isn’t about never falling; it’s about rising again, with a heart that’s open to what comes next.

Let’s keep walking our paths, one step at a time.