I’m just hoping that my friend Durjaya Pliske doesn’t find out when or where my next record attempt is going to be. Don’t get me wrong – you can’t find a nicer guy, but whenever Durjaya shows up to one of my events, something unusual happens, and it invariably involves butterflies!
Durjaya is a professor of biology at a university in Florida, but his passion is butterflies. He even used to breed the winged creatures to help pay his way through college. In fact, he is so into butterflies, it almost seems like he attracts them wherever he goes.
The first time Durjaya came with me on an adventure was in Japan. We were both on a spiritual retreat with my meditation teacher, Sri Chinmoy. I decided to take a break and attempt to set a new Guinness record by climbing 16 miles up and down the foothills of Mt. Fuji on a pogo stick! As we traveled on the bullet train from Tokyo to Gotemba, just to make conversation, I asked Durjaya about his butterfly collection. Mistake number one. For two hours, to be polite, I feigned interest in his stories. Mistake number two. Durjaya was convinced he had discovered a dormant lepidopterist.
Jumping up Mt. Fuji was difficult, but nothing compared to the descent. It was drizzling and I was tired and cold and intensely concentrating on not taking a spill onto the slippery blacktop. Pushing to finish before the threatening clouds unleashed their fury, I suddenly spotted, about 40 yards ahead, my professor friend frantically waving his arms in my direction. “Oh my God, what’s going on?” I thought. “There must be an accident of some kind; I hope no one is seriously hurt.” As I rushed over, expending valuable energy, the excited Durjaya pointed to an enormous ugly brown moth stuck to a tree and exploded with glee, “Ashrita, look! Isn’t it marvelous? It is the rare Lepidoptera Satunid. I haven’t seen one of these in years. What a good omen!”
I should have paid more attention to the omens when I invited Durjaya to my recent record endeavor of trying to break the record for standing on a gymnastic ball. Also known as a Swiss ball, these are the colorful 2 to 2½ foot rubber balls you find in most gyms nowadays. We were on retreat in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, this past December when I decided to make the attempt at the Sheraton Hotel Spa. Since the attempt was indoors, I figured Durjaya would be unable to communicate with his flying friends.
The spa management set me up in front of a huge picture window overlooking an exquisite tropical garden. As I stood up on the bright yellow Swiss ball, I was astounded by the beauty of the lily pond, the elaborate fountains and the lush vegetation. Balancing on the ball requires tremendous concentration and inner tranquility, and the scenery was a soothing inspiration-.that is, until I noticed the first butterfly! And then another and another followed by the inevitable, “Hey Ashrita, did you see that awesome monarch? What perfection!”
For the most part, I was able to ignore the local butterfly population (and my friend’s comments) and focus on the task underfoot! After 2 hours, the pain became a major source of distraction, but meditating on a photo of Sri Chinmoy, which was propped up against the window, gave me strength. After I surpassed the old record of 3 hours and 16 minutes, I relaxed a bit and felt confident enough to even start chatting with my professor friend. “Hey, Durjaya, I’m thinking of trying to stay on this ball for 4 hours, but I can’t go another minute without knowing the name of that butterfly over there.” He squinted through the glass and replied, ” Oh, that’s a yellow tiger swallowtail. Common, yet well-rounded.”
As the minutes flew by, I got more and more caught up in the Indonesian fauna. Suddenly, an enormous butterfly crossed my field of vision, shattering my equanimity. “Durjaya, did you see that thing? Its colors are brilliant and it’s the size of a bird!” To which he smugly replied, “Yup, that’s a swallowtail alright, quite common even in the U.S.” “No”, I insisted, “You missed it. It wasn’t a swallowtail, it was gigantic!” At that moment the airborne wonder flew within inches of the window and I screamed, “Durjaya, look, there it is!” And I immediately proceeded to tumble off the ball!
The stopwatch read 3 hours and 38 minutes, but I was nevertheless fulfilled. I felt the joy of self-transcendence and sighted the glorious Golden Bird Wing butterfly as well. Now I understand how people can get so carried away with these graceful insects. Still, I’ll be quite satisfied if from now on, when it comes to breaking records, the only butterflies I experience are the ones in my stomach before the event!
