Thursday, November 18, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
just 15 minutes a day
It's amazing how meditation works in your life and you just don't realize it. Through my studies of Buddhist philosophy/psychology I am learning to be more mindful of the experiences in my life.
The frustrating part of this is my lack of meditation practice. Although I try to meditate a minimum of 15 minutes each day, I have become lazy and undisciplined, not following my hourly practice as I was doing before. While I do get in two 45-minute meditations on the weekend, it just isn't enough to make the progress I was making before. Even my weight is back up again.
As a result, I can tell the difference. Each time I sit it is almost painful to remain still. It is like returning to the beginning again. The pure agitation and nervous energy. Monkey mind that bounces playfully against the walls of my mind.
Does anyone have any suggestions on how to overcome laziness and forcing yourself to get up early to sit in the morning? Evenings are out of the question for me.
The frustrating part of this is my lack of meditation practice. Although I try to meditate a minimum of 15 minutes each day, I have become lazy and undisciplined, not following my hourly practice as I was doing before. While I do get in two 45-minute meditations on the weekend, it just isn't enough to make the progress I was making before. Even my weight is back up again.
As a result, I can tell the difference. Each time I sit it is almost painful to remain still. It is like returning to the beginning again. The pure agitation and nervous energy. Monkey mind that bounces playfully against the walls of my mind.
Does anyone have any suggestions on how to overcome laziness and forcing yourself to get up early to sit in the morning? Evenings are out of the question for me.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
3 Misconceptions About Meditation by Susan Piver
Karen's Note: An excellent article about some of the misconceptions many have when they come to meditation. Unfortunately, for many of us it can take a few years before we realize it. The first one is a big one that discourages people from meditating because they think they "can't meditate" because they "can't turn off their thoughts". Not so!! Taken from The Huffington Post online
Meditation has been getting a very good rap lately. Very good. Scientists have proven that it actually makes you happier. It is included in mental health programs. It is being taught at gyms, schols and in the workplace. It has stopped being associated with gurus, swamis, or anyone who wears robes to work. Somehow it has become acceptable and not scary. This is wonderful. But it has also made for some misconceptions.
I've been practicing meditation for 15 years and my main knowledge of these misconceptions comes from holding them myself and refusing to let them go because they just seemed so ... convenient.
I've also been teaching meditation for four years. Between my own pigheadedness and that of my students, I've had ample opportunity to observe these misconceptions from close range.
There seem to be three primary ones.
1. Meditation means you have to stop thinking.
No, no, no! This is a crazy hoax.
If I had a dollar for everyone who said to me, "I can't meditate! I can't turn off my thoughts!" I'd be, well, richer. Many people think that emptying the mind of thought is the point and if you can't do so, you've failed.
Not so.
Your mind exists to produce thought. That's what it does. It thinks things. Getting it to stop is akin to opening your eyes and telling them not to see anything.
Go ahead. Try that right now. Look out through your eyes and plead with them not to see anything. Try really hard.
That's how frustrating it is to think you're supposed to hop off the 190-mile an hour freight train in your head and onto a meditation cushion where you will somehow have magically stopped dead on the track.
Instead, the idea is to relax with your thoughts exactly as they are. This turns out to be far more relaxing than fighting them off.
Meditation has nothing to do with stopping thought, but everything to do with not going along for the ride. You hop off the train, but you don't stand it front of it, hands held out insisting it stop, whereupon you get shmushed like a bug on a windshield. Instead, you have a seat on the grass and watch it roll by. Trains keep coming, but eventually each fades from view. They all pass by. You don't have to do anything to make this happen. So don't get all hung up on stopping thought. I promise, your mind will slow down on its own.
If you'd like to try it, instruction is here.
2. Meditation turns you into a peaceful person who is unruffled by anything.
Oh my god, you have no idea how much I wish this was true. It just doesn't work that way. Instead of making you untouchable, meditation makes you like the most touchable person ever.
However, it does indeed pacify your mind, not by weeding out the bad thoughts and keeping the good ones (as encouraged by the thought police), but by noticing both and not necessarily believing either one. Freed from absorption in thought, you can open to what is actually happening. Into this opening come all sorts of things, wanted and unwanted, including all your good feelings and all your icky ones, and, notably, the joy and suffering of others. The more you practice, the more open you become. The more open you become, the more you feel. The more you feel, the more vulnerable you are.
Meditation actually cultivates vulnerability, not impenetrability--and it is right here that all the goodies reside, although it might not feel that way at first.
Once, I asked my teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, what was up with all the crying that had been accompanying my practice of late. In fact, I said, the more I practiced, the more I cried. The suffering of my fellow humans seemed untenable. What was I doing wrong? Surely this couldn't be what the Buddha intended as the path to enlightenment or a helpful gift I could offer others. When it came to empathy and care for my fellow humans, wiping my nose on their sleeves did not seem like the best I could do.
He looked at me so kindly and said, "You know, some of the worlds greatest meditators have cried a lot."
This simple answer was so liberating. I thought of the world's meditation masters and sages, like the Buddha, like Jesus, like Gandhi and tried to picture them, not as implacable adepts who always knew what to do and say, but as human beings who cried--under the Bodhi Tree, atop the Mount of Olives, in a prison cell--for all of us. But then what? They didn't just wipe their eyes and return to their lives, hoping for the best. Somehow they were left with a greater capacity for love, not less.
I wanted to get me some of that.
The profound opening that is the result of a strong and steady practice--and which includes deep, painful emotions as well as boring and joyful ones--actually creates the perfect circumstances for you to become a more truthful version of who you already are. This you can open to joy, outrage, boredom, terror and love without losing her seat. Occasionally, she is completely at peace, but she knows that it is not the result of using meditation to withdraw from this world, but to fearlessly enter it, take it on completely and stabilize her heart in the open state.
3. Meditation is a means of self-improvement and stress reduction.
It is absolutely true that meditation brings positive change to your sense of self, relationships and quality of life. It has also been scientifically shown to make you happier (by increasing activity in the prefrontal cortex) and relieve stress (by reducing cortisol.)
However, meditation is so much more than this. In fact, its greatest benefits are realized when attempts at self-improvement are abandoned in favor of accepting yourself. Pema Chodron once said that cultivating gentleness toward yourself is the single most important aspect of meditation practice. When you draw attention away from the inner chatter that is usually grading you for everything on a scale of one to 10, you make space for another kind of awareness to arise: your own natural, complete and indestructible wisdom. This is a guarantee.
Through meditation, you tune into your life rather than your thoughts about your life. You see that it has an arc, rhyme and pattern. In fact, your life has a life of its own and you are its guardian, not its master. Your unique path, the one that reveals to you who you really are, appears. You can see it. You can feel it. There is a sense of definitely being in the right place.
Ultimately, meditation is nothing more or less than the path to enlightenment. That it also happens to be an astonishingly effective way to like yourself more and accomplish your goals is peripheral. Using it solely as a means to conventional ends robs it of its elegance and power--and you miss the verdant and fertile forest that exists in the unending now for trees that have yet to flower.
(Thus have I heard.)
-- Taken from The Huffington Post online
Meditation has been getting a very good rap lately. Very good. Scientists have proven that it actually makes you happier. It is included in mental health programs. It is being taught at gyms, schols and in the workplace. It has stopped being associated with gurus, swamis, or anyone who wears robes to work. Somehow it has become acceptable and not scary. This is wonderful. But it has also made for some misconceptions.
I've been practicing meditation for 15 years and my main knowledge of these misconceptions comes from holding them myself and refusing to let them go because they just seemed so ... convenient.
I've also been teaching meditation for four years. Between my own pigheadedness and that of my students, I've had ample opportunity to observe these misconceptions from close range.
There seem to be three primary ones.
1. Meditation means you have to stop thinking.
No, no, no! This is a crazy hoax.
Not so.
Your mind exists to produce thought. That's what it does. It thinks things. Getting it to stop is akin to opening your eyes and telling them not to see anything.
Go ahead. Try that right now. Look out through your eyes and plead with them not to see anything. Try really hard.
That's how frustrating it is to think you're supposed to hop off the 190-mile an hour freight train in your head and onto a meditation cushion where you will somehow have magically stopped dead on the track.
Instead, the idea is to relax with your thoughts exactly as they are. This turns out to be far more relaxing than fighting them off.
Meditation has nothing to do with stopping thought, but everything to do with not going along for the ride. You hop off the train, but you don't stand it front of it, hands held out insisting it stop, whereupon you get shmushed like a bug on a windshield. Instead, you have a seat on the grass and watch it roll by. Trains keep coming, but eventually each fades from view. They all pass by. You don't have to do anything to make this happen. So don't get all hung up on stopping thought. I promise, your mind will slow down on its own.
If you'd like to try it, instruction is here.
2. Meditation turns you into a peaceful person who is unruffled by anything.
Oh my god, you have no idea how much I wish this was true. It just doesn't work that way. Instead of making you untouchable, meditation makes you like the most touchable person ever.
Meditation actually cultivates vulnerability, not impenetrability--and it is right here that all the goodies reside, although it might not feel that way at first.
Once, I asked my teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, what was up with all the crying that had been accompanying my practice of late. In fact, I said, the more I practiced, the more I cried. The suffering of my fellow humans seemed untenable. What was I doing wrong? Surely this couldn't be what the Buddha intended as the path to enlightenment or a helpful gift I could offer others. When it came to empathy and care for my fellow humans, wiping my nose on their sleeves did not seem like the best I could do.
He looked at me so kindly and said, "You know, some of the worlds greatest meditators have cried a lot."
This simple answer was so liberating. I thought of the world's meditation masters and sages, like the Buddha, like Jesus, like Gandhi and tried to picture them, not as implacable adepts who always knew what to do and say, but as human beings who cried--under the Bodhi Tree, atop the Mount of Olives, in a prison cell--for all of us. But then what? They didn't just wipe their eyes and return to their lives, hoping for the best. Somehow they were left with a greater capacity for love, not less.
I wanted to get me some of that.
The profound opening that is the result of a strong and steady practice--and which includes deep, painful emotions as well as boring and joyful ones--actually creates the perfect circumstances for you to become a more truthful version of who you already are. This you can open to joy, outrage, boredom, terror and love without losing her seat. Occasionally, she is completely at peace, but she knows that it is not the result of using meditation to withdraw from this world, but to fearlessly enter it, take it on completely and stabilize her heart in the open state.
3. Meditation is a means of self-improvement and stress reduction.
It is absolutely true that meditation brings positive change to your sense of self, relationships and quality of life. It has also been scientifically shown to make you happier (by increasing activity in the prefrontal cortex) and relieve stress (by reducing cortisol.)
Through meditation, you tune into your life rather than your thoughts about your life. You see that it has an arc, rhyme and pattern. In fact, your life has a life of its own and you are its guardian, not its master. Your unique path, the one that reveals to you who you really are, appears. You can see it. You can feel it. There is a sense of definitely being in the right place.
Ultimately, meditation is nothing more or less than the path to enlightenment. That it also happens to be an astonishingly effective way to like yourself more and accomplish your goals is peripheral. Using it solely as a means to conventional ends robs it of its elegance and power--and you miss the verdant and fertile forest that exists in the unending now for trees that have yet to flower.
(Thus have I heard.)
-- Taken from The Huffington Post online
Monday, May 31, 2010
Chanting Meditation Video
Here it is. Amateur video shot during our 8 PM Chanting meditation Saturday night at Spiral Circle. It's a playlist comprised of seven videos since YouTube won't allow me to upload more than 10 minutes per video. Troy on Crystal Bowls. Orlando Meditation Practice Group chanting with and without Deva Premal, Mantras for Precarious Times CD. Enjoy!
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Heart-Essence of Buddhist Meditation
Excerpt from Tricycle magazine. Read the full article online here:
http://www.tricycle.com/dharma-talk/the-heart-buddhist-meditation?offer=dharma
By Lama Surya Das
Artwork by Mia Muratori
The Heart-Essence of Buddhist Meditation
The common roots of various Buddhist meditative practices
Clinging to one’s school and condemning others
Is the certain way to waste one’s learning.
Since all dharma teachings are good,
Those who cling to sectarianism
Degrade Buddhism and sever
Themselves from liberation.
—Milarepa, The One Hundred Thousand Songs
During my initial private meeting with the Venerable Kalu Rinpoche, my first root guru, I asked him about the main points of meditation. He asked what kind of meditation I was doing, and I told him mindfulness of breathing. “What will you concentrate on when you stop breathing?” he asked.
That was a real eye-opener. Suddenly I realized that I might have to broaden the scope of my understanding of Buddhist practice. In time, I came to discover that it included a great deal more than any one meditation technique and also that the many forms of Buddhist meditation shared fundamental elements.
The philosopher Simone Weil characterized prayer as pure undivided attention. Here is where all contemplative practices have a common root, a vital heart that can be developed in an almost infinite variety of skillful directions, depending on purpose and perspective. Different techniques of meditation can be classified according to their focus. Some focus on the field of perception itself, and we call those methods mindfulness; others focus on a specific object, and we call those concentrative practices. There are also techniques that shift back and forth between the field and the object.
Meditation, simply defined, is a way of being aware. It is the happy marriage of doing and being. It lifts the fog of our ordinary lives to reveal what is hidden; it loosens the knot of self-centeredness and opens the heart; it moves us beyond mere concepts to allow for a direct experience of reality. Meditation embodies the way of awakening: both the path and its fruition. From one point of view, it is the means to awakening; from another, it is awakening itself.
Meditation masters teach us how to be precisely present and focused on this one breath, the only breath; this moment, the only moment. In the Dzogchen tradition we refer to a “fourth time,” the transcendent moment of nowness. In Tibetan this is called shicha, a transcendent yet immanent dimension of timeless being that vertically intersects each moment of horizontal linear time—past, present, and future. Whether we’re aware of it or not, we are quite naturally present to this moment—where else could we be? Meditation is simply a way of knowing this.
Different Buddhist schools recommend a variety of meditative postures. Some emphasize a still, formal posture, while others are less strict and more focused on internal movements of consciousness. Tibetan traditions, for instance, advise an upright spine, erect but relaxed; hands at rest in the lap, with the belly soft; shoulders relaxed, chin slightly tucked, and the gaze lowered with eyelids half shut; the jaw is slack with the tongue behind the upper teeth; the legs are crossed. A Soto Zen Buddhist saying instructs us to sit with formal body and informal mind. The common essential point is to remain balanced and alert, so as to pierce the veil of samsaric illusion.
Although most Westerners tend to conceive of Eastern forms of meditation as something done cross-legged with eyes closed, in a quiet, unlit place, the Buddha points with equal emphasis to four postures in which to meditate: sitting, standing, walking, and lying down. The Satipatthana Sutra says: “When you sit, know that you are sitting; when standing, know you are standing. . . .” This pretty much covers all our activities, allowing us to integrate meditative practice into daily life. Learn to sit like a Buddha, stand like a Buddha, walk like a Buddha. Be a Buddha; this is the main point of Buddhist practice.
While many people today practice meditation for physical and mental health, a deeper approach to practice energizes our inner life and opens the door to realization. In Tibetan, the word for meditation is gom, which literally means “familiarization” or “getting used to,” and in this sense meditation is a means by which we familiarize ourselves with our mind. The common Pali term for meditation is bhavana, meaning “to cultivate, to develop, to bring into being.” So we might then think of meditation as the active cultivation of mind leading to clear awareness, tranquility, and wisdom. This requires conscious effort.
But from another—and at first glance contradictory—perspective, there is nothing to do in meditation but enjoy the view: the magical, mysterious, and lawful unfolding of all that is, all of which is perfect as it is. In other words, we’re perfect as we are, and yet there’s work to be done. In this we find the union of being and doing: we swoop down with the bigger picture in mind—the view of absolute reality—and at the same time we climb the spiritual mountain in keeping with our specific aspirations and inclinations, living out relative truth. “While my view is as high as the sky, my actions regarding cause and effect [karma] are as meticulous as finely ground barley flour,” sang the Lotus Master Padmasambhava, who first brought Buddhism to Tibet in the eighth century. By alternating between active cultivation and effortless awareness, we engage in a delicate dance that balances disciplined intention with simply being. By being both directive and allowing, we gradually learn to fearlessly explore the frontiers and depths of doing and being, and come to realize that whatever is taking place, whatever we may feel and experience, is intimately connected with and inseparable from intrinsic awareness.
Continue reading here:
http://www.tricycle.com/dharma-talk/the-heart-buddhist-meditation?page=0,1&offer=dharma
http://www.tricycle.com/dharma-talk/the-heart-buddhist-meditation?offer=dharma
By Lama Surya Das
Artwork by Mia Muratori
The Heart-Essence of Buddhist Meditation
The common roots of various Buddhist meditative practices
Clinging to one’s school and condemning others
Is the certain way to waste one’s learning.
Since all dharma teachings are good,
Those who cling to sectarianism
Degrade Buddhism and sever
Themselves from liberation.
—Milarepa, The One Hundred Thousand Songs
During my initial private meeting with the Venerable Kalu Rinpoche, my first root guru, I asked him about the main points of meditation. He asked what kind of meditation I was doing, and I told him mindfulness of breathing. “What will you concentrate on when you stop breathing?” he asked.
The philosopher Simone Weil characterized prayer as pure undivided attention. Here is where all contemplative practices have a common root, a vital heart that can be developed in an almost infinite variety of skillful directions, depending on purpose and perspective. Different techniques of meditation can be classified according to their focus. Some focus on the field of perception itself, and we call those methods mindfulness; others focus on a specific object, and we call those concentrative practices. There are also techniques that shift back and forth between the field and the object.
Meditation, simply defined, is a way of being aware. It is the happy marriage of doing and being. It lifts the fog of our ordinary lives to reveal what is hidden; it loosens the knot of self-centeredness and opens the heart; it moves us beyond mere concepts to allow for a direct experience of reality. Meditation embodies the way of awakening: both the path and its fruition. From one point of view, it is the means to awakening; from another, it is awakening itself.
Meditation masters teach us how to be precisely present and focused on this one breath, the only breath; this moment, the only moment. In the Dzogchen tradition we refer to a “fourth time,” the transcendent moment of nowness. In Tibetan this is called shicha, a transcendent yet immanent dimension of timeless being that vertically intersects each moment of horizontal linear time—past, present, and future. Whether we’re aware of it or not, we are quite naturally present to this moment—where else could we be? Meditation is simply a way of knowing this.
Different Buddhist schools recommend a variety of meditative postures. Some emphasize a still, formal posture, while others are less strict and more focused on internal movements of consciousness. Tibetan traditions, for instance, advise an upright spine, erect but relaxed; hands at rest in the lap, with the belly soft; shoulders relaxed, chin slightly tucked, and the gaze lowered with eyelids half shut; the jaw is slack with the tongue behind the upper teeth; the legs are crossed. A Soto Zen Buddhist saying instructs us to sit with formal body and informal mind. The common essential point is to remain balanced and alert, so as to pierce the veil of samsaric illusion.
Although most Westerners tend to conceive of Eastern forms of meditation as something done cross-legged with eyes closed, in a quiet, unlit place, the Buddha points with equal emphasis to four postures in which to meditate: sitting, standing, walking, and lying down. The Satipatthana Sutra says: “When you sit, know that you are sitting; when standing, know you are standing. . . .” This pretty much covers all our activities, allowing us to integrate meditative practice into daily life. Learn to sit like a Buddha, stand like a Buddha, walk like a Buddha. Be a Buddha; this is the main point of Buddhist practice.
While many people today practice meditation for physical and mental health, a deeper approach to practice energizes our inner life and opens the door to realization. In Tibetan, the word for meditation is gom, which literally means “familiarization” or “getting used to,” and in this sense meditation is a means by which we familiarize ourselves with our mind. The common Pali term for meditation is bhavana, meaning “to cultivate, to develop, to bring into being.” So we might then think of meditation as the active cultivation of mind leading to clear awareness, tranquility, and wisdom. This requires conscious effort.
But from another—and at first glance contradictory—perspective, there is nothing to do in meditation but enjoy the view: the magical, mysterious, and lawful unfolding of all that is, all of which is perfect as it is. In other words, we’re perfect as we are, and yet there’s work to be done. In this we find the union of being and doing: we swoop down with the bigger picture in mind—the view of absolute reality—and at the same time we climb the spiritual mountain in keeping with our specific aspirations and inclinations, living out relative truth. “While my view is as high as the sky, my actions regarding cause and effect [karma] are as meticulous as finely ground barley flour,” sang the Lotus Master Padmasambhava, who first brought Buddhism to Tibet in the eighth century. By alternating between active cultivation and effortless awareness, we engage in a delicate dance that balances disciplined intention with simply being. By being both directive and allowing, we gradually learn to fearlessly explore the frontiers and depths of doing and being, and come to realize that whatever is taking place, whatever we may feel and experience, is intimately connected with and inseparable from intrinsic awareness.
Continue reading here:
http://www.tricycle.com/dharma-talk/the-heart-buddhist-meditation?page=0,1&offer=dharma
Saturday, May 22, 2010
babies know how
This morning the realization came to me that babies live in the Now. Each moment is a new experience to them. They cry when there is discomfort or hunger. They cry when they want attention. But the majority of babies do spend a great deal of time either sleeping (dreamwalking?) or staring at the ceiling or a mobile they can't reach or touch. So until a basic need arises; discomfort from a wet diaper, hunger pains, or the desire for soothing or attention, babies live in the moment. Each and every one of us was once a baby. No skipping that phase. (Although I joke my son was born a toddler because of his size at birth.) But each of us, at one point, lay in a crib and stared at the ceiling. Only later do we develop the desire for more and more stimulation.
It would then stand to reason that each of us know how to live in the Now. But as we grew older we began to rely more on outside stimulation to help us develop into who we are. We have become addicted to all this external stimulation, and as a result, have forgotten how to live in the Now.
As the old e-mail joke which has circulated many times said, we spend our childhood wanting to be older, become older and then decide we want to be a kid again. Who says you have to be older to embrace your inner child? Why not do it now, no matter how old you are.
Go outside and dance in the rain (preferably without lightning around). Skip from your doorway to your car. Whistle. Ride a bicycle. Skip a rope! Sing a silly song in the car on your way to work; something like, "Jack and Jill" or "Humpty Dumpty". Have fun and be silly!
Enjoy life while we can. Advice I know I should heed more, and I have a feeling, more of you out there could stand to do so as well.
Be Happy!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
New direction for blog
As a result, I've decided to take my desire to share meditation to another level. This blog will be expanded to include all forms of meditation. Hopefully by sharing what we've learned, then receiving feedback from other practitioners, we can grow our knowledge and expand our practice together.
If you have any suggestions or input, please share!
If you'd like to listen to us on the radio, or listen later to the archive of the show, visit: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/profile.aspx?userurl=upliftouryouth
The show is today, May 20th from 6-7 PM. Anyone can call in and make comments about their practice or ask questions - that means any of you too! 917.889.7423 (Not toll free, sorry...)
Monday, May 3, 2010
4th & 5th day of the course: Saturday & Sunday
Saturday we followed the same schedule. We were instructed by Goenka during one of the sessions to narrow our attention to a specific point for the sensation of breath. We spent a day narrowing on this point and I began to doubt my ability to do so. I felt so weak-minded. It was so very difficult to remain focused on that one specific point only.
Then we were introduced to the first days teaching of the Vipassana technique.
It was a two-hour required sit. Everyone was discouraged from leaving the room. I cannot remember the appropriate term for the teaching, but there is one. It is believed to be the actual process transmitted by The Buddha to his students. Goenka chanted each step in Pali (Hindu?), then translated in English. Our attention was moved from our nostrils and slowly expanded to cover ever single inch of our body and back up again. This process took two hours and he guided us through the entire process. I became so engrossed in the process I was completely oblivious of any discomfort or pain I was in after sitting in the position for more than an hour. There are absolutely no words that can adequately describe my experience. All I know is I returned to awareness outside of my own body when he released us with the closing chant. Most of the room jumped up, trying to make it out the door. Some were bursting into tears. Some were bursting at the seams and trying to get to the bathroom.
Many had sat so still for so long they were completely numb, yet oblivious until they fell when attempting to stand. I rushed for the door and once outside burst into tears. I felt like a buzzing bundle of energy. I felt as if I could fly. I had an endorphin rush like no drug has ever given me. I touched eternal bliss. It was one of the most amazingly powerful experiences of my entire 44 years on this planet.
I felt as if I had to move. I quickly headed for the women's trail, now a favorite spot of mine. I walked slowly, looking at everything. Even though it was winter and most things were brown and dead, it all looked so alive to me. As the wind blew the trees and bushes, I imagined they were all waving at me. I felt as if I had stepped into the Roger Rabbit cartoon and everything was singing to me. I felt so amazingly connected to everything. It is yet another moment beyond comparison.
Even now it is still staggering to realize just what my mind is truly capable of, IF I can remain focused. It was very easy to do so when guided by a teacher. Much more difficult once you enter the real world and have no one to guide you anymore.
Then we were introduced to the first days teaching of the Vipassana technique.
It was a two-hour required sit. Everyone was discouraged from leaving the room. I cannot remember the appropriate term for the teaching, but there is one. It is believed to be the actual process transmitted by The Buddha to his students. Goenka chanted each step in Pali (Hindu?), then translated in English. Our attention was moved from our nostrils and slowly expanded to cover ever single inch of our body and back up again. This process took two hours and he guided us through the entire process. I became so engrossed in the process I was completely oblivious of any discomfort or pain I was in after sitting in the position for more than an hour. There are absolutely no words that can adequately describe my experience. All I know is I returned to awareness outside of my own body when he released us with the closing chant. Most of the room jumped up, trying to make it out the door. Some were bursting into tears. Some were bursting at the seams and trying to get to the bathroom.
Many had sat so still for so long they were completely numb, yet oblivious until they fell when attempting to stand. I rushed for the door and once outside burst into tears. I felt like a buzzing bundle of energy. I felt as if I could fly. I had an endorphin rush like no drug has ever given me. I touched eternal bliss. It was one of the most amazingly powerful experiences of my entire 44 years on this planet.
I felt as if I had to move. I quickly headed for the women's trail, now a favorite spot of mine. I walked slowly, looking at everything. Even though it was winter and most things were brown and dead, it all looked so alive to me. As the wind blew the trees and bushes, I imagined they were all waving at me. I felt as if I had stepped into the Roger Rabbit cartoon and everything was singing to me. I felt so amazingly connected to everything. It is yet another moment beyond comparison.
Even now it is still staggering to realize just what my mind is truly capable of, IF I can remain focused. It was very easy to do so when guided by a teacher. Much more difficult once you enter the real world and have no one to guide you anymore.
Third day at the course: Friday
I lay awake for a very long time that Thursday night before finally falling into a fitful sleep. I awoke Friday morning. exhausted and with my mind made up. I was going home! It lightened my mood a little to think I would be escaping all this pain, discomfort, and suffering. Kind of funny now that I type that and think of the first of the four noble truths. "There is dukkha (suffering)."
I went to breakfast same as the morning before and returned to the dorm to take my shower and get cleaned up. Of those that left the course, almost all left during group meditation. I think part of it was shame for each of us. Another part was the desire to reduce the interruptions and facing those that would be staying behind. As I waited for the 8 o'clock bell for group meditation, I sat on my bed and decided it would be nice to have a good long meditation before hitting the road. Even to this point, I still have not lost my love or belief in meditation.
I was not concerned with leaving while the others were not in group meditation, so I decided to do the group sit and then pack my stuff and hit the road. I entered the meditation hall.
It was the easiest meditation I had had in an extremely long time. The time flew by and before I knew it Goenka was singing the closing meditation chant. I was so surprised, I decided to stay for the next meditation period and see what happened.
And that is how I learned to live in the moment. If I thought ahead to eight more days before I could see my family again, the loneliness became almost unbearable. The idea of sitting for eight more days, all day long, every single day, filled me with anxiety and fear. But if I just thought of sitting through the next period and then I could leave if I wanted to, got me through the remaining days.
The schedule repeated itself each day and I easily flowed into it with my one-session-at-a-time attitude. Before I knew it, it was bed time. I climbed into bed and slept the best I had since arriving.
I went to breakfast same as the morning before and returned to the dorm to take my shower and get cleaned up. Of those that left the course, almost all left during group meditation. I think part of it was shame for each of us. Another part was the desire to reduce the interruptions and facing those that would be staying behind. As I waited for the 8 o'clock bell for group meditation, I sat on my bed and decided it would be nice to have a good long meditation before hitting the road. Even to this point, I still have not lost my love or belief in meditation.
I was not concerned with leaving while the others were not in group meditation, so I decided to do the group sit and then pack my stuff and hit the road. I entered the meditation hall.
It was the easiest meditation I had had in an extremely long time. The time flew by and before I knew it Goenka was singing the closing meditation chant. I was so surprised, I decided to stay for the next meditation period and see what happened.
And that is how I learned to live in the moment. If I thought ahead to eight more days before I could see my family again, the loneliness became almost unbearable. The idea of sitting for eight more days, all day long, every single day, filled me with anxiety and fear. But if I just thought of sitting through the next period and then I could leave if I wanted to, got me through the remaining days.
The schedule repeated itself each day and I easily flowed into it with my one-session-at-a-time attitude. Before I knew it, it was bed time. I climbed into bed and slept the best I had since arriving.
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