The Dhamma Police in the Garden of Liberation
It's time to relive the meditation experience at Suan Mokkh:
Most of you would cry if I told you that for the next 11 nights you would have to sleep in a concrete cell on a concrete bench with a Buddha pillow, which is fancy speak for a block of wood with an indentation for your head. You'd probably howl if on top of that you'd have to check your room for spiders, frogs, scorpions, centipedes and snakes each time you enter. Though the spiders may be impressive, they are harmless, the green snakes are not poisenous but better not approach a cobra if it finds a way into the cell. There's a bucket and a hard piece of cardboard set aside just for scorpions and centipedes. Though the real danger is slipping on the wet concrete floor and splitting your head open. Also, in case you are wondering, there will be no reading, no writing, no air con, no singing, no drinking, no drugs, no sex, no speaking, no dancing while you participate in this retreat.
Once again I took a vow of silence but this time they were actually
serious about it. Men and women slept in seperate buildings and sat apart in the dining halls and during meditation. Each person had to do a chore to contribute to maintaining life at the monastery. The day started at 4am with gonging and then some meditation and a 2 hour yoga session. Breakfast, consisting of a yucky rice soup, was served at 8am and then I took off to the hot springs to digest the tasteless goo. To be honest, the hot springs were a big selling feature for showing up to meditate in the first place. At 12:30 the last meal of the day was served and thankfully it was much, much better than breakfast. The food was still half as good as the Mahasi Centre's fare in Yangoon but on the upside, the abbot of the monastery reminded me of Yoda. Most days I had to suppress a chuckle each time he began to speak. He sounded like a real jedi master in his saffron robe. The talks he was giving were pretty deep and totally Star Wars.
Lectures were given by various learned people. My favourites were Yoda who was really hard to understand, Nun Piroh who got so very excited by her speaches that she screeched and chuckled and Tan Dhammavidu, or as he is called by all the staff at the monastery: "the British monk." He was (surprise, suprise) British and a very, very good public speaker. His daily Dhamma talks were followed by pali chanting that drilled the words dhamma, samsara and dukkha into our heads. Teachings on loving kindness, karma, samsara, and the bad things like sensual pleasure (aka sex) and drugs were constantly reinforced. Personally it was difficult not to think about sensual pleasure and drugs because they kept coming up.
The hardest thing by far was to exercise 'loving kindness' towards the mosquitos. I swatted, I slapped and really I donated enough pints of blood to these insects to sustain them throughout several life cycles. Sitting was followed up by walking meditation which meant that I would stand in the coconut grove swinging my arms around to prevent the mosquitos from swarming me. Every once in a while I did get the chance to look at my feet and really contemplate what it felt like to take a step. That's all meditation is really about, being mindful and being here, right now and not taking off into the past or into the future. Sounds simple but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Even with all the modern day distractions gone my mind kept running through thoughts at lightspeed. I had no idea that there was so much constant chatter in my head. It was hard to calm down most of the time.
The group was pretty much average except for one guy that seemed to have been teleported from the flower-power seventies, complete with beard & long hair & acid washed shirts but he proved me wrong at the end of the retreat. There were days were I looked around during meditation to see if I was the only one fidgeting and going balistic. Luckily, the 350 pound American at the back of the room was also stealing glimpses of the room through his tightly squeezed eyelids. He closed them immediately when he saw me looking at him. The German couple I met on the train seemed to have it down pat.
Although I expected all the days at the retreat to be the same, I was pleasantly surprised by each day.
Day 1
The chanting monk (he leads the chants) picked up a dog that hung out with us and tried to carry it back to the Thai monastery. In the process of being carried the dog decided it would like to stay and so began to growl and bite the monk. Our entire group was already istting in the walless, pillared hall by the lake meditating. I was doing really well because I was watching the monk the entire time. He threw the end of his robe in the air to get away from the dog. It was like watching them dance in a lush slow motion painting of green and saffron. He grabbed the dog, flopped on it and called out "help me". Ten guys jump up and run towards them.
Day 2
It rained. Really rained. It was like someone turned the tap on a powerful showerhead. It fell straight. It fell for hours on end. The entire group moved from the walless hall to a drier spot.
Day 3
For a brief moment I meditated. Really meditated, not just repeating "geez, just focus on your breath. Stop thinking" to myself. It was quite a high. Difficult to describe. My posture straightened out and I felt light and clear for 15 minutes.
Day 4
The bats were back. They flew through the walless dining hall during evening tea in the dark. It stopped raining.
Day 5
It was a full moon in early November. The festival of Loi Krathong was celebrated. Tiny candle lit votive boats were set adrift on the lake outside the meditation hall. We sat in a dark sea of warm floating light. Loi Krathong pays tribute to the river goddess. It's a festival of letting go of all the things that create suffering in life. They simply float away on the boats down the river.
Day 6
I realized that I had formed an attachment to the British monk. He is funny and smart. He thinks that Colonel Sanders was probably reincarnated as a 15 legged chicken in one of his factories. His technique for overcoming sensual thought is to really think about the 'thing' that turns one on as it is. In all it's clinical detail under fluorescent light. Being all spiritual, I tried it. His technique didn't work for me. The 'thing' still does it for me. However, the technique for overcoming the desire to eat could work: "just imagine the food chewed up or better yet, imagine it vomited on a piece of newspaper being licked up by a dog. That should get rid of any desire to eat." Try it and let me know if it works. Is it lunch time yet?
Day 7
My mind was still having a million conversations a minute. It's hard to shut the constant sputter of thoughts off.
Day 8
"Why is this retreat 10 days long?" That's what I thought about while swatting mosquitos all day long.
Day 9
Only one meal was served at 8:30am. It was a full day of self directed meditation on an empty stomach. No schedules to follow except the 4am gonging and the 9:30pm lights out.
Day 10
I was scared. This was the last day and then it was off into a world without 4am gongs, prepared meals and regimented schedules focusing on breathing and spiritual development.
Most of you would cry if I told you that for the next 11 nights you would have to sleep in a concrete cell on a concrete bench with a Buddha pillow, which is fancy speak for a block of wood with an indentation for your head. You'd probably howl if on top of that you'd have to check your room for spiders, frogs, scorpions, centipedes and snakes each time you enter. Though the spiders may be impressive, they are harmless, the green snakes are not poisenous but better not approach a cobra if it finds a way into the cell. There's a bucket and a hard piece of cardboard set aside just for scorpions and centipedes. Though the real danger is slipping on the wet concrete floor and splitting your head open. Also, in case you are wondering, there will be no reading, no writing, no air con, no singing, no drinking, no drugs, no sex, no speaking, no dancing while you participate in this retreat.
Once again I took a vow of silence but this time they were actually
serious about it. Men and women slept in seperate buildings and sat apart in the dining halls and during meditation. Each person had to do a chore to contribute to maintaining life at the monastery. The day started at 4am with gonging and then some meditation and a 2 hour yoga session. Breakfast, consisting of a yucky rice soup, was served at 8am and then I took off to the hot springs to digest the tasteless goo. To be honest, the hot springs were a big selling feature for showing up to meditate in the first place. At 12:30 the last meal of the day was served and thankfully it was much, much better than breakfast. The food was still half as good as the Mahasi Centre's fare in Yangoon but on the upside, the abbot of the monastery reminded me of Yoda. Most days I had to suppress a chuckle each time he began to speak. He sounded like a real jedi master in his saffron robe. The talks he was giving were pretty deep and totally Star Wars. Lectures were given by various learned people. My favourites were Yoda who was really hard to understand, Nun Piroh who got so very excited by her speaches that she screeched and chuckled and Tan Dhammavidu, or as he is called by all the staff at the monastery: "the British monk." He was (surprise, suprise) British and a very, very good public speaker. His daily Dhamma talks were followed by pali chanting that drilled the words dhamma, samsara and dukkha into our heads. Teachings on loving kindness, karma, samsara, and the bad things like sensual pleasure (aka sex) and drugs were constantly reinforced. Personally it was difficult not to think about sensual pleasure and drugs because they kept coming up.
The hardest thing by far was to exercise 'loving kindness' towards the mosquitos. I swatted, I slapped and really I donated enough pints of blood to these insects to sustain them throughout several life cycles. Sitting was followed up by walking meditation which meant that I would stand in the coconut grove swinging my arms around to prevent the mosquitos from swarming me. Every once in a while I did get the chance to look at my feet and really contemplate what it felt like to take a step. That's all meditation is really about, being mindful and being here, right now and not taking off into the past or into the future. Sounds simple but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Even with all the modern day distractions gone my mind kept running through thoughts at lightspeed. I had no idea that there was so much constant chatter in my head. It was hard to calm down most of the time.
The group was pretty much average except for one guy that seemed to have been teleported from the flower-power seventies, complete with beard & long hair & acid washed shirts but he proved me wrong at the end of the retreat. There were days were I looked around during meditation to see if I was the only one fidgeting and going balistic. Luckily, the 350 pound American at the back of the room was also stealing glimpses of the room through his tightly squeezed eyelids. He closed them immediately when he saw me looking at him. The German couple I met on the train seemed to have it down pat. Although I expected all the days at the retreat to be the same, I was pleasantly surprised by each day.
Day 1
The chanting monk (he leads the chants) picked up a dog that hung out with us and tried to carry it back to the Thai monastery. In the process of being carried the dog decided it would like to stay and so began to growl and bite the monk. Our entire group was already istting in the walless, pillared hall by the lake meditating. I was doing really well because I was watching the monk the entire time. He threw the end of his robe in the air to get away from the dog. It was like watching them dance in a lush slow motion painting of green and saffron. He grabbed the dog, flopped on it and called out "help me". Ten guys jump up and run towards them.
Day 2
It rained. Really rained. It was like someone turned the tap on a powerful showerhead. It fell straight. It fell for hours on end. The entire group moved from the walless hall to a drier spot.
Day 3
For a brief moment I meditated. Really meditated, not just repeating "geez, just focus on your breath. Stop thinking" to myself. It was quite a high. Difficult to describe. My posture straightened out and I felt light and clear for 15 minutes.
Day 4
The bats were back. They flew through the walless dining hall during evening tea in the dark. It stopped raining.
Day 5
It was a full moon in early November. The festival of Loi Krathong was celebrated. Tiny candle lit votive boats were set adrift on the lake outside the meditation hall. We sat in a dark sea of warm floating light. Loi Krathong pays tribute to the river goddess. It's a festival of letting go of all the things that create suffering in life. They simply float away on the boats down the river.
Day 6
I realized that I had formed an attachment to the British monk. He is funny and smart. He thinks that Colonel Sanders was probably reincarnated as a 15 legged chicken in one of his factories. His technique for overcoming sensual thought is to really think about the 'thing' that turns one on as it is. In all it's clinical detail under fluorescent light. Being all spiritual, I tried it. His technique didn't work for me. The 'thing' still does it for me. However, the technique for overcoming the desire to eat could work: "just imagine the food chewed up or better yet, imagine it vomited on a piece of newspaper being licked up by a dog. That should get rid of any desire to eat." Try it and let me know if it works. Is it lunch time yet?
Day 7
My mind was still having a million conversations a minute. It's hard to shut the constant sputter of thoughts off.
Day 8
"Why is this retreat 10 days long?" That's what I thought about while swatting mosquitos all day long.
Day 9
Only one meal was served at 8:30am. It was a full day of self directed meditation on an empty stomach. No schedules to follow except the 4am gonging and the 9:30pm lights out.
Day 10
I was scared. This was the last day and then it was off into a world without 4am gongs, prepared meals and regimented schedules focusing on breathing and spiritual development.
posted by LOTC at 7:05 AM
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