“Intriguing, humorous, inspiring, delightful.” These are my comments about this 2001 German film (with English subtitles) by Doris Dörrie that we watched several nights ago. Of course we checked it out from our favorite video/DVD store … the Bayfield Library.
Though billed as a comedy the film reveals the value of meditation as well as the benefits of self-discovery. At the same time, the film portrays our all-too-human failings and self-doubts with humor and compassion.
Plot: Brothers Uwe and Gustav are adrift in mid-life crisis. Uwe’s wife leaves, taking their three sons and infant daughter with her. Gustav, a Feng Shui consultant, longs for greater fulfillment in his life. He plans a trip to Japan to deepen his meditation practice. Uwe, lost and alone after his family’s departure, insists on accompanying him.
What results is a tumultuous journey for them both. After checking into their Tokyo hotel Uwe and Gustav accidentally exit out a different restaurant door than the one they entered. Suddenly they’re homeless. Without passports, directions, money, or Japanese language skills they’re forced to rapidly confront their fears and anxieties.
A scene at an ATM machine in Tokyo was priceless (and extremely reminiscent of Frances’ and my early travel experiences in Central America). Uwe inserts his credit card in the ATM to withdraw money, then Gustav follows suit when no money or card is forthcoming. They both lose their cards, of course, and then they’re truly on their own. The first night the brothers sleep in cardboard boxes, side by the side. The next day they visit a department store where they steal a tent to ensure that future nights will be spent in greater comfort.
Ultimately, these men realize that there is a freedom in
not understanding what’s happening around them and in
not living by the rules. It’s certainly not easy for them to come to this conclusion but it seems to be a necessary step in order to shed their fears of the unknown before they submerge themselves in the daily rituals of Buddhist life.
Much of the first section of this movie was intimately familiar. When Frances and I traveled in Central America last winter, we didn’t speak the language well and we soon recognized our vulnerability. It was also true that as outsiders we weren’t expected to know or follow all the cultural rules or mores. What freedom!
Eventually Gustav and Uwe find their way to Sojiji Monastery where they confront a new set of challenges. Each morning they rise at 4:30, bathe in cold water, join the monks in early morning meditation, eat breakfast, and devote themselves to hours of cleaning, scrubbing, washing, sweeping. They—and the viewers—quickly discover that their perseverance is exhausting. Cleaning floors and toilets is difficult and physically challenging. Sitting in meditation is painful. Sweeping leaves from one spot to another in the outdoor garden is mindless…. Or is it?
“Buddhism requires us to be truly present, to live in the moment,” said director Doris Dörrie about her intentions in making this movie, “It’s very difficult, but that’s part of the attraction.”
And, soon enough, the brothers reap the benefits of their seated meditation practice. They become witnesses to the thoughts that stream through their minds, they allow emotions to surface, and, eventually, they reach a place of greater serenity.
By movie’s end, Gustav and Uwe leave their monastery retreat and return to Tokyo, slipping easily and comfortably back into their tent that is set up at the edge of a tennis court and next to a train track. The first night back one of them suggests that they chant the heart sutra they learned at the monastery. The other agrees, and you then hear their chant emanating from the tent walls.
Somehow through days and hours of seated meditation and repetitive chores these brothers have allowed themselves—as director Dörrie explains—to give up hate and envy and the aggression that results from these disquieting states and to achieve a much-needed state of serenity. They’ve learned nothing and everything in a few short weeks.
Gustav and Uwe’s meditation practice reminded me of what I’ve often experienced during years of teaching t’ai chi chih moving meditation. Over and over, I witness students arriving at class rushed, hurried, uncentered, out of sorts. Soon after we begin to move, though, a hush settles over the room. And, after a 40-minute group practice, I look around the room and feel the incredible change in energy that’s occurred. Our group practice has welcomed each of us into this moment—now—where we stand quietly, relishing the peace and serenity. Often these moments of peace can be fleeting. But the more regularly we practice, the more quickly and easily we can get to that elusive state of tranquility.
In “Enlightenment Guaranteed” both Gustav and Uwe experience positive change. It takes the extreme situation of foreign travel to begin that change. But, by the end, you’re convinced that they’ve changed forever.
Some people believe that lasting change is impossible to achieve. But, instead of viewing change as a simple route from one way of being to another, it’s helpful for us to view our path toward peace and enlightenment as a spiral rather than a straight line.
We’re always circling back toward where we began but, with each cycle, each circle, we move forward. Now, in this moment, we have more information and more experience to inform us than we had in the past. We need to trust in ourselves enough to believe that with each day and with each experience, we gain greater wisdom and expand our ability to love and accept ourselves and others.
That’s why we call meditation a practice. It’s never perfect. The best we can do is devote ourselves to it. That, believe it or not, is enough.
