Vipassana: The Sequel
By Anne Adametz
Read my first time article published in Yoga Chicago here.
The months leading up to Vipassana were filled with a longing for peace, dreading the sit and in awe of the opportunity. After my first successful, yet grueling Vipassana 10-day, 100 hours of meditation, complete silence, no talking, no reading, no writing, no phone retreat. The last time I went there weren’t even smart phones. Last time, I didn’t have an 8 year old son. All in all, this time I was somewhat prepared for the agony of the body and the taming of the mind, my only option for 10 days.
.
Twelve years since my last 10 day silent retreat, I could only remember the pain and the bliss, was I missing anything? I found myself calling a friend had also done Vipassana and asked for advice.
Juan, my wild-man turned, wildly-sober Colombian friend listened to all…
My fears:
- Sitting for so long, the pain?
- The endlessness of 10 Days?
- What if I can’t do it?
Juan:
- It’s just pain.
- There will be people there who don’t have the support you have, the stability of a family, a home, people who love you, you have everything you need.
- Fear? It’s just fear.
Slightly fearless, I drove down to Vipassana a mere hour and five minutes from my home, all along curvy back roads lulled me into a serenity before the storm. I arrived with too much luggage in tow, period.
Getting to the hall, there were a mixture of young, old, and everyone in between. Equal numbers men and women, yogis, personal trainers, retirees, young women surfing experiences, members of a commune, artists, a girl with ADHD chrones and IBS, several young IT professionals from Chicago, an elderly long-haired medicine-looking woman who was starting, sadly, to lose her friends. All equally awed and unsure. Someone they trusted had told them, “You have to do it.” Ready or not…
Photo: thegreatdiscovery.com
Suprisingly, a young woman approached me, “Aren’t you Kate’s sister?” She was a business owner for whom I had done a workshop years prior with my sister. “Yes!” I was hoping to be anonymous, in case I ran out screaming, but there it was, I was a veteran, and a couple of others asked for advice. My only advice was “don’t leave, and it will pass, none of your thoughts are true, they’re just thoughts.” A couple of younger pilgrims left anyway.
Having done this so long ago, I had hoped to hide out in the back, sitting for 10 hours, invariably, you open eyes and look around and you want to see others not moving as much, because it will encourage you to sit still. Nope, I was front and center, no where to hide. To add pressure, I sat between two still calm and stoic women, there we were, three statues to buddha.
Day One:
Momentum lead me to feel positive, and so sitting was difficult, shifty, and yet passed relatively quickly, with me focusing on nostrils and getting aware of the scrolling of my defiled mind racing from stressor to pleasantry to useless fact and back again. I found myself terrifyingly scrolling a mental facebook, even re-reading posts I found particularly disturbing. Mental note: ditch social media, it was taking up a lot of bandwith.
photo: elephantjournal
Day 2
Like a job I wasn’t that fond of but paid the bills, I drew myself to the meditation hall and sat again, today was more brutal, I couldn’t sit comfortably from the get go. My seat wasn’t soft enough, my hips were drawn uncomfortably open, and within 20 minutes I was searching for escape. To be fair, I hadn’t meditated past 30 minutes at home and I clearly wasn’t conditioned for the long sits. Either 1 hour or 2 hours at a time. At 9pm, I approached the teacher who allowed short questions. Tearily, I protested,
“I cannot get my seat comfortable.”
He replied fully present and deeply in compassion, “It’s not your seat, it’s the balance of your mind.”
I nodded without thinking, my body knew but my ego lagged behind.
There is a bit of a walk back to the barracks, and I cried for half of it. Cried for the seat I didn’t have, the comfort I longed for, my deflated ego, cried because the yogi in me should’ve known, cried because I’m lazy, spent and lost. The want/don’t want cycle was revved. Once I saw the suffering, I realized this time was different. 12 Years, a child, a full time yogi, I stopped on the path. I stopped crying and took it all back, a voice came loud “You’re here. This is why you are here.” I remembered how that same voice came through Juan: There are others suffering but you are here, get to work.
The next morning I woke before the 4am bell, showered and arrived before time at the meditation hall and diligently worked to get my seat to an appropriate comfort, that would remain for the rest of the ten days. When I sat, I had a singular focus, give up control, no more fighting, get to work.
Even that drama was a helpful distraction, but on Day 3 there was a lull. No drama, no sensationalism, just me, sitting there with all m thoughts, longing for memories, cringing at hidden insecurities, mistakes and trying to not react to any of these wet-towel bully snaps to my ego. I scrolled through a lot of my relationship with my eight year old son. I replayed myself pushing, trying to fix him, judging him, not accepting him, and it was a harsh gift to slow down enough to receive. He just wants to be loved, and to be known. I cried myself to sleep one night knowing loving and accepting him was truth. Same for my husband, same for everyone, same for me.
If accepting, being and letting go are the answers then why all my striving to find the in-between of “want” and “don’t want.” The idea is that wanting or not wanting is the root of all suffering. The antidote: “it is.”
I wanted to not want. I wanted to know how to let go. Argh. Stop wanting! Stop wanting to stop… Suffering is tricky business.
Photo by Bali blogger
Days 4-9, I found some kind of rhythm in mental torture. On breaks I began to choose tea to cheat the no-reading clause and visually devour the tiny encouragements dangling from the string. “Plant kindness and gather love.” Nice but not saving me from my misery, only I can do that, I am my own liberation. Pointing fingers, even at myself held no glory. I kept recycling of every shame, every gain, every crime, every injustice, every gift underserved, every win, and lost chance…. Just fodder ambushing me from the present moment where peace lies waiting for me to un-choose all else. But how?
These 10 days were somehow easier to take. Why? The first time, I think I was constantly suspect of the technique, the logic, the undoing of the clingings of the mind, in short, I fought a lot. I disagreed with some aspects and zeroed in on what I didn’t like, which increased my misery. This time, having enjoyed the effects of the process and did the work.
The job is to feel the sensations, and not react except with acceptance, literally: sit with it. Feel the pain, do not react, feel the pleasant sensations, do not get attached. What is in-between? The practice of the Great DE-sire. Let it be. How did the Beatles know so much, they were brilliant! Were they messiahs sent? Back to the sensations, the breath, the body, it was all temporary, attaching to something temporary is like sands through my fingers, I cannot hold what is passing away, let go. This is pleasant… doh! Just feel, don’t react…. Hours and hours and hours…
The one thing I could feel confident about was my seat. I was sitting, as stoic as my beautiful gargoyle women on either side of me,seriously how many times have they done this ?? Surely more than my ONE other time, why was I in the front row, it was 10 years ago! Back to the task at hand and the reality was that the pain of the 2 hours settled into my hip. All of it, excruciating. My goal had been to let it be, keep sweeping, but the itch of the pain, the call, the exacerbation of it was so tempting to focus on, now it was tingling, it was going to go numb, then what! If I don’t move…what will happen. I decided to breathe through it. That’s when it continued, louder, tinglier, more annoying than ever, and still I swept my awareness through the body, over and over to different areas and moving awareness dulled the pain, ever present. Finally, the bell rang, to my aching but not intolerable hip, I was shocked. In the real world I would’ve done just about anything to avoid that pain, probably not even aware of the effort. There, I saw it rise up and pass away. Ashes to ashes dust to dust, my pain gone like the wind, along with my suffering.
In the last days of Vipassana, I was beginning to get used to it. Ironically, “getting used to it” is the original translation of meditation. It’s not fixing it, or blissing out, or floating away in front of a candle.
I observed myself thinking I might be crazy, as one does here, that’s something to observe, not believe. The thoughts persisted as long as I gave them an audience. This time, I ceased the fighting my mind and chose the rigor of observation, technique, I watched my mind and waited for the crazy thoughts to pass.
I walked, took to the methods, and rested letting the mental musings rise up and pass away. Once “discipline” was an authority I rebelled against, now it was proving a reliable friend, a safe-way guide and trusted companion.
On the final day, I vacillated between excitement to be finished with what, really? to processing, to trying not to look ahead, to gratitude for the process and wonder at its riches.
Would I be more efficient, reach all my dreams now? What are my dreams if not peace? And then, the young personal trainer, whom I did not speak to aside from her recognition of me as “Kate’s sister”seemed an old friend though we never spoke she approached me and said “You helped me, just knowing you were there.” She handed me the tiny tea message saved since the 3rdday. I was never alone.
It said “You are a light, share it with others.”
In all the hours of meditation, all the classes I’ve taught, all the beings mentored, all the books I’ve read, all the mistakes I’ve made, and all the grace I’ve been given, there it was. It’s not do more, it’s not want, it’s not an un-wanting, it’s you are a light. Share it. Be it. Unveil it. You are the light. And the darkness, you are all of it, we are all of it. Accept it, align with it, don’t judge it. Love it all.
Today, a year later, I re-read this and try not to crave Vipassana. I saw Jess and she said a friend of hers went back and she had FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). I plan to return.
The second time was decidedly easier, probably because of my 12 years of teaching letting go full time, definitely because of the discipline and absolutely because it is.
At a Glance here is how my 10 Day unfolded.
Day 1: Excited,
Day 2: Pressure to calm down, sit still, endure misery
Day 3: Just Ok
Day 4: Vipassana, interesting, understanding desires
Day 5: Pleasant
Day 6 Pleasant
Day 7 Pleasant-ish
Day 8: Unpleasant: ANGER
Day 9: Rest/Wisdom
Day 10: Excitement, difficult to focus vacillating between processing and lookingahead
Revelations:
- The balance of the mind is tipsy betwixt: Want / It is / Don’t want
- My son wants to be known and loved, that is all
- Compassion is the way and Love is the antidote. All else is temporary
- Pain is Samkara leaving the body
- My husband is my beloved. Partner. Teacher. Guide. Rock. He is quiet love incarnate. Do not forget this.
- Once Discipline was an enemy I feared. Now, may it be a reliable friend, guide and trusted companion
- Between Want like love should and don’t want, dislike , hate and shouldn’t there is LET IT BE. Rest Here.
- I am experiencing “The Great Unwanting”
- Behind Anger is fear, and Fear is illusion
- Don’t be so hard on yourself. You are here. Look how far you’ve come.
Please don’t hesitate to comment, connect with me about your experience or to
receive mentoring on anything you are going through. I am here to light the way.