Why would anyone take a meditation retreat? As I drove north towards Canada, I thought I had some pretty good answers. First off, I thought I should follow the example of people I admired and trusted. I wanted to be more like the Tibetan Buddhist Lama, Zasep Rinpoche. From the first time I met him, I realized he possessed a rare and marvelous quality. He was perhaps the only person I had ever met who was absolutely present when we shared a conversation. And look at the Dalai Lama! While experiencing the indescribable sorrow of losing his country and witnessing the suffering of his people, he remains a vast resource of joy. For another reason, I felt like I had hit the proverbial brick wall in my meditation skills. After almost five years of short sessions, I still had a hard time watching my breath. I figured I would never become a skilled meditator without giving it my full attention for a period of time.
So, I found myself at the new Gaden for the West Meditation Center, just outside of Nelson, B.C. I had to get up by 5:30 each day to be ready for the beginning session, and throughout the day we tried to keep conversation limited to necessary exchanges involving work duties and sharing facilities. Otherwise, sound was limited to Rinpoche's teachings, our prayers and mantra. The retreat center was truly quiet, but my mind was not. Right away, the spacious environment made all my thoughts much more apparent. Then, I got to see how much was going on in my mind that I really didn't like. My thoughts seemed so loud that it felt like anyone sitting next to me would be able to hear them. I felt squirmy and uncomfortable -- so many feelings of insecurity and entitlement. So much noise!
Rinpoche knew, of course, that I and other participants would experience at least some of this. He warned us that we might have strong negative feelings. He said this was not unnatural, and could be helpful in the long run. "But," he said, "Please don't give up and drive off without talking to me." I thought that was funny at the time, but over the next few days, I indulged in many a fantasy about sneaking into my Subaru and escaping across that US border.
Why was it difficult? I kept telling myself it shouldn't be hard, but let's face it -- any new skill is frustrating when first tried, and I had never worked this hard to keep single-pointed meditation. By the end of the fourth day, after a grueling session that I had thoroughly bungled, I was disgusted. I was mad at myself and most of my fellow retreatants. I was even mad at Rinpoche and the whole of Tibetan Buddhism. "How in the world did I end up here?" I asked myself. "Maybe I should do something else. May I should have been Zen. Maybe I could get out of this somehow..." Blah, blah, blah, blah. Thank goodness for Sharon Gretzinger's cooking. Her dinner, and some well-timed gifts of chocolate from Patti Gora, saved me from escaping to some bar in Nelson.
On the fifth day something miraculous happened. Suddenly, my mind shifted. I don't know if this is the best place to describe the experience, because words don't really do these insights justice. Suffice it to say, I suddenly perceived the world differently than I had before. By world, I mean both the inner and outer world, and there seemed to be no separation between these two. My environment, my thoughts, and even my consciousness appeared less solidly -- like so much display. By midday, I was back in my old patterns of thinking. In fact, if I had not written notes about my experience, I think I would have forgotten it, like a dream. But the result of the experience is that I now have more confidence in my practice.
I had already experienced greater happiness in my life by applying Buddhist principles, but now I could see how one might achieve a consistent view that was more clear, bright, and ungrasping than the ordinary view. I also realized that I had the capacity to concentrate if I tried hard enough, and arranged for conditions that would help in the effort.
When I got home I was much nicer to my family. Maybe it was because absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that. But, really, I did seem to feel differently. My husband, Bruce, was so impressed he began planning when he could send me off again. And I will do so, just as soon as I can! I need all the help I can get.
