Why I went to the retreat:
I went to the retreat because I wanted to deepen my sitting meditation practice. More, I wanted to learn a certain type of meditation - vipassana - in a formal, structured way, one that would force me through the disciplined steps of approaching the meditation practice that I would be far less likely to do on my own. And, if I am being honest, as much as I said that this wasn't my intention, I also think I wanted to experience one or two of those intense mystical moments people talk about where the divide between self and other disappears, the boundaries drop away, mind and body disappear. I was looking for some sort of unitive experience, perhaps as a peripheral but highly desirable effect of going to - and completing - the retreat. At a deep level, I was truly searching for a practice that would inform my meditation going into the future, and inform my day to day journey of awakening, transformation and enlightenment.
What the retreat is:
I'm not going to say much about this. You can search for "Goenka Vipassana retreat" and read all about them. They are free, which is nice - supported by the donations of course alumni. They are 10 days, and they are completely silent. This means no talking, no gestures, no nonverbal communication and preferably no eye contact. They also ask you not to read, not to do any writing or journaling, and to abstain from any and all religious/spiritual practices that you may do as a part of your regular routine/lifestyle. The schedule is this, more or less:
4am: wake up
4:30-6:30: meditate in the hall or in your room
6:30-7:15: breakfast
7:15-8: rest
8-9: formal meditation in hall
9-11: meditate in room or in hall, depending on instructions and preference
11-11:45: lunch
11:45-1: rest or questions in hall with teacher (1 on 1 - this was the only situation where talking was allowed, unless you had to talk to the manager about a logistical concern)
1-2:20: meditate in hall or in room
2:30-3:30: formal meditation in hall
3:30-5: meditate in room or in hall, depending
5-5:30: tea break with the option of fruit and/or milk in tea for first time retreatants
5:30-6: rest
6-7: formal meditation in hall
7-8:15: dvd discourse from S.N. Goenka
8:15-9: meditation in hall
9: rest (lights out by 10)
I won't expand on this except to say two things: 1) there were generous breaks in between sessions so that people could stretch and go to the bathroom. 2) no one was watching over you to smack you if you used any of the room meditation times to nap or sleep in. That was not encouraged, but it was an option.
Last thing to sketch the retreat itself - there is no exercise allowed except for stretching and walking in the designated walking paths (about 1/8 mile loop) during rest times. They ask you not to run, do yoga, etc.
One request. Don't pre-judge the retreat and say "that's so stupid" or "what a ridiculous expectation," etc. One thing about actually going and making the struggle-filled decision to leave: my reasons for leaving feel very deep and vulnerable and difficult. Superficial criticism of the retreat structure seems rather off-putting after engaging with it at a very deep and challenging level. I don't know if that makes sense or not. If not, that's okay. It's also fine if you think these rules are stupid and bonkers. After wrestling with them I've had less objective judgments about whether they are good or bad. I do have a lot to say about my own relationship to them, to which I now turn my attention.
Why I left the retreat (I can't promise that this will be short. In fact, it might end up being quite long):
I can't quite say "I left because it was hard," thought it was. It was painfully hard. Literally. Schedule meditation time was 10 hours and 45 minutes. There is an encouragement to spend as much of this as possible in an upright posture, either kneeling with support or cross legged on a cushion. There is only so much postural adjustment one can perform before the same muscles are exhausted to their core. The silence was challenging, but more than this, the boredom was almost suffocating. There was absolutely nothing to do. Nothing. During the rest times I could nap, walk, or lie on my bed and stare. I could also meditate - were I insane. I could also stretch, if I had a bone lick of energy left in me, which I rarely did. And the silence insofar as it meant "not talking" was relatively easy. The "no acknowledging others in any way including eye contact" was what really punched me in the gut. It felt awkward, forced, and incredibly distracting. After three days of meditating I was so powerfully aware of the people around me. To ignore them felt forced. It felt awkward and uncomfortable. It also felt isolating and difficult. I understand in my head, and even in my heart, the notion of why this is done. It is such a painful thing to be left with ourselves sometimes. To be forced to face the discomforts we find in our mental activity. To be left without ALL of our typical escapes. I understood the notion behind it. Which is why I can't say that I left because it was hard.
More than anything, I left because I lost faith that the meditation technique itself was worth it. In fact, the most powerful and transformative meditative experience I had while there was when I went "off script" and did my own thing. You are, as you can imagine, absolutely not supposed to do this, but I was so damn tired of trying to focus on my breathing while my legs were screaming at me because they were falling asleep that I let myself be with that agony and move into it, body and mind. It was powerful. When the meditation period ended I had to come back to my body. I had the most profound feeling of "what just happened?" But I digress.
When we got to the end of day 4 they began to teach vipassana meditation. Insight meditation. Before this we were building our concentration by attending with one-pointed focus to the breath itself as it entered and exited the nostrils. I understood the benefit of this, though three days of 10 hours a day breath focus was one of the most boring things I've ever invested in. Rewarding and beneficial. But oh so boring!
When the Vipassana instruction commenced I thought, "Wait, is this it? we are just doing body scans? JUST BODY SCANS?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???" I can't even begin to tell you of the let down I felt inside. I had intended to go to the retreat and "empty my cup." Learn meditation as if I knew nothing about it whatsoever. Drink from their instruction as one would when one is a complete beginner. But when they started teaching us how to go from head to toe, part by part and notice sensations in the body briefly without judgment and then move on to the next part of the body... something inside me just sunk. "This is so disappointing," I thought. I don't know if I thought it in those words, but it was in my body, my heart, everything. I don't know what I expected, exactly - but something different. I met with the teacher to say I was thinking of leaving. That I needed him to talk me into staying. He told me what was coming up. His first words were about the next day's instruction: "You are going to learn how to not just scan down the body, but back up." This was not encouraging. Part of my frustration was that this type of body scan for subtle sensation was painfully easy for me. I do massage and energy work. I practice taiqi, qigong and yoga. I am very familiar with noticing subtle sensations in my body. His progressed map of what the rest of the retreat looked like did not encourage me. When I asked about why we were simply jumping from one sensation to the next instead of staying with sensations long enough to observe "the arising and passing away of phenomena" (a common Buddhist idea) he answered me. His answer was fine, but not satisfying. He said it had to do with how we are prone to cling to or reject sensations based on whether they were pleasant or unpleasant. Forcing ourselves to move on helped us avoid that trap. I got it, but it felt like there were other ways around that conundrum.
He told me that they don't broaden their meditative focus to include the thoughts and feelings, just the body. This was disappointing. He said that when you observe the subtle sensations of the body without any judgment, attraction or aversion, you begin to disentangle the suffering and knots of the mind at the deepest level. The idea is that those sensations are linked to the mind through the body (this is how I understood what he was saying) and so when you can observe the body without reactivity you become less reactive to what passes through your mind and emotional body. I wasn't going to disagree with him, per se, but this really did not introduce anything new or profound into my practice. I had been noticing and observing my body and working to defuse the reactivity and judgment for a long time. I would often broaden this to encompass the feelings that arose as I noticed things in my body. Or even the thoughts. Letting them pass without judgment. Noticing them. Relaxing the bodily tendency to tighten, grip, control or reject those feelings or thoughts as they arose. Just letting them come, letting them go. I just keep thinking "maybe I've already been doing this??" Maybe I wasn't going to get anything from this? Maybe I'm further along in my practice than I thought? All disappointing questions to entertain. Funny that they would be disappointing, but they were.
A friend asked me, about a week after leaving the retreat "what are you looking for?" It was a broad brush question, but it encompassed my going to a retreat, obviously seeking something. I listened to the question with this translation: "What is it you are seeking that you think you don't already have?" I think that is a koan that took me deep into silence. I had no answer. Why did I even go to the retreat? What was I seeking? What did I think I didn't have? How amusing that I was disappointed by the realization that possibly I already had what I needed.
But I left on day five. I kept thinking about how I had six more days off from work and I could spend them on the low-feeling probability that I would get something profound from the retreat OR I could do something that I knew would be enjoyable and meaningful, though with less possibility of helping me have some profound and life-altering spiritual breakthrough.
So I drove home, spent the night in Los Angeles, called my godparents in Sedona, Arizona, and made plans to drive to see them the next day (Tuesday). I went to Berry Bowl the next morning, packed up my car, and went to Sedona.....
(more to come: a little about my time in Sedona, and a lot about my reflections on the retreat itself once I had removed myself from it... a bit of subjective objectivity, if you will... including that feeling I finally had of "I am home" when I had my first walking meditation with my Wednesday night sangha in Pasadena.... Oh... and if I forget to put it in my next post, I really need to say that when I decided to leave, the teacher at the retreat was incredibly kind. He was caring, compassionate and loving, without a trace of judgment or shaming. This was so meaningful, and to me is the one thing that truly moved my heart to deep gratitude. I can't forget to say that, so I am saying it now. To be continued...)
