Breathing in long... breathing out long...

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I don't know where to start. I have just finished the most difficult ten days of my entire life. When I came out of the monastery after the meditation retreat, I had no idea what to expect. I am still not sure really what effect this experience will have on how I view life and the world around me because I am still sort of dazed (and have just woken up from only three hours of sleep because I can't sleep on these soft mattresses). Even if my outlook on life isn't radically altered and I don't become a very very calm person devoted to relieving the world of suffering, I overcame so many personal obstacles on this retreat, from things as simple as sitting absolutely still for hours and bearing the pain in my legs and hips to things as complicated as coming to terms with not having the regular reinforcement of my thoughts and ideas and pains from others that comes from talking.

Since the experience of meditating itself is indescribable, I'll have to leave you with the recommendation that you try it for yourself. I can give you some idea of the life I led for 10 days with a description of our schedule and some of my experiences but it will never really be able to express what is ultimately a journey of the mind and heart.

When we arrived the first day we stayed in the main monastery and awoke early the next morning to walk to the retreat centre, about 2km down the road. At breakfast that morning it was the excited babble of traveller talk, everyone chatting about their experiences so far in Thailand and what brought them to the retreat. It's funny now to think back to that first day because since that was the only chance I had to talk to these people, it was the only thing I could really securely know as I saw them walk by me every day like zombies in silence. The ones that I didn't get a chance to meet that first day I always found intimidating because I didn't know their names, I didn't know where they were from, and I had no idea what they might be thinking about me! We started out the retreat with about 70 people and by the end it was down to 40 or so. We never saw them leave, it was very silent. They must have packed their bags during our outside meditation time, taken away their mats from the meditation hall during our time in the dorms, and then left while we were in meditation again. It made me think of totalitarianism and the silent "disappearing" of certain people.... how your friends were there and then they were gone without warning and without a trace. Sometimes it took me awhile to notice that they were gone because I didn't always notice the other people around me, but one day there was a girl in the room next to me and the next day there wasn't! It was crazy.

But I can understand why they left. I wanted to, many times. I imagined the beach, only 10 kilometres away, and couldn't understand why in the world I would pay to put myself through this absolute torture. But then I remembered that most retreat centres won't let in people under age 25 because they have a higher dropout rate, and since I was definitely the youngest at this retreat, I was determined to prove to them that just because you are younger does not at all mean that you are weaker. Plus, I made it through the IB program and until now in my life that has been my mantra -- I did that, so I can do this. Now I think I will change that to this retreat. Because even though IB was longer and stretched out over three years, this was intense and every minute of every day and it was so physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing that it easily added up to the same level of difficulty.

We stayed in dorms that were arranged in a large square around a central grassy area where there were wells for getting water for bathing. We had to wear sarongs when bathing (it was a monastery, so very modest, even only around women) and it was so hard to hold the sarong on with one hand, use the other to pour a bucket of water over your head, quickly soap up (also difficult under the sarong without exposing anything) and then pour more water. They said no cosmetics or special perfumes or things to beautify yourself, so I didn't use conditioner and washed my hair with hand soap and got used to having a big rat's nest on my head. We slept on a shelf of concrete with a bamboo mat on it and there was a wooden pillow but I didn't use it, I just slept without a pillow. I could have bunched up some clothes as some did for a pillow, but I thought that would be cheating, so I just laid my head on the concrete.

We did our formal sitting meditations in what they called a meditation hall, but it really was just a covered area. There were no walls so we could see the nature all around and it was really peaceful and beautiful, actually. It was in the middle of the rainforest so in the early morning and at night the sounds of wildlife were almost deafening in the silence.

Every morning we were awoken at 4am by the big bell (I still love the sound of it, even though it woke me so early every morning. It is amazing and I wish I'd had my tuning fork because I'm sure I could have developed perfect pitch if I had known what note that bell was because it was ringing in my ears whenever it wasn't ringing out loud). Then there was a reading in the meditation hall, something inspiring as an idea to keep in our minds during the day. Then we meditated and had yoga, which was SO great! When we started the yoga every day, it was still dark, and the teacher always somehow managed to plan it so that we were doing the sun salutation just as the sun was coming up.

After yoga the Thai monk would come to give us a lecture and I'm sure he was an extremely wise man but it was so hard to understand his accent that I often gave up and used this as daydreaming time. After that, more meditation, and then breakfast. We ate rice soup for breakfast every morning. It was delicious, though it wasn't supposed to be. They meant for the food to be very simple and nothing to delight in, so they made it vegetarian. But I thought everything was fabulous!

The rest of the days were unremarkable... we alternated regularly between sitting, standing, and walking meditation and at 12:30 I usually indulged in a little sleeping meditation 😊 They encouraged us to meditate not only during the scheduled formal meditation times, but as we were doing each daily activity. We all had chores (mine was sweeping the dining hall after breakfast and lunch -- a great one compared to bathroom - cleaning) and we were supposed to notice very carefully what we were doing and the significance of our actions. When walking from one place to the next, it was to be done very, very slowly so that we could feel each pebble beneath our feet (it was bare feet all the time -- so wonderful, and such a shock to feel shoes after 10 days of bare feet) and notice the movement of each muscle and the shifting of balance from one foot to the other as we walked. While we were eating our food (with the left hand to increase awareness), we had to feel the weight of the spoon, notice the mouth opening, notice the spoon entering, the mouth closing, and then the movement of the teeth. We had to feel the textures of all the foods we ate, experiencing each bite for what it was worth. This made eating a very long procedure, which was fine, because it was a respite from meditation 😊

While meditating, we were supposed to keep our minds focussed entirely on our breathing. No thoughts of the past, no thoughts of the future, only of the present moment and the breathing. You wouldn't think that this would be too difficult... but it was! There were so many thoughts that wanted to push through just because I was trying to empty my mind! Everything I learned at the Miquelon Lake amphitheatre shows and Visitor Centre about bats came flooding into my head every time I saw a bat (and I saw many up close - they are incredible creatures). I wrote emails in my head, and made so many to-do lists! What to do during my 10:30 break (wash socks, shower, braid my hair, etc), what to do in Surat Thani, what to do and buy in Bangkok, what to do when I get home, what to do in Toronto this term, what to do during the rest of my degree, what to do for the rest of my life...
And all this while I was supposed to be thinking of my breathing!

I was so proud that I didn't cry more than I did during the retreat. You'd think that with such a challenging experience, so little sleep, and the personal emotions flying around, I'd be a wreck! But I only cried longer than five minutes on days 2, 3, 7, and 11. And actually on Day 2 it wasn't out of frustration, but during one of the guided meditations the leader said, "Now picture your parents. Consider all that they have done for you and their role in your life. Consider..." but I didn't hear anything past "picture your parents" and I was a wreck for at least the next 2 hours. Oh, how I wanted to go home!!

On Day 3, I think I finally realized what I had gotten myself into and the tears were a release after I had truly decided that despite my doubts, I was going to stick it out and stay for the entire time.

Day 7 was the worst... I think I spent more time that day in tears than dry-eyed. On the evening of Day 6, my right eyelid started to twitch. I didn't think too much of it because there were candles flickering in the hall and sometimes I had to remember not to add tension by squeezing my eyes shut. So I released some of the tension... and it twitched even harder! Whatever. I put up with it, not getting much meditation out of that evening. I was worried since it twitched even when I was trying to get to sleep, and when I woke up in the morning of Day 7 and it started twitching, I got a little panicky! The entire day it twitched and it started to drive me insane! I couldn't think about anything other than my eyelid because every time I tried to focus on my breath, it would twitch and get in the way. Then the stress would make it quicken, and the harder I tried to relax, the more upset I became. It twitched and twitched until I didn't think I could take it any longer. Around 11 or 12 the tears started. I thought I was going crazy and I just wanted it to stop and I couldn't tell anyone about it and I could quit and leave but that would be giving up on myself and plus, what if the eyelid never stopped twitching? Then I'd be insane AND a quitter! And I wasn't going to let that happen. The entire time I was crying, my eyelid continued to twitch, which only made me angrier so I cried harder! As the crying died down, the eyelid got slowly better, twitching only when I lost my focus on the breath or felt worried or thought too much about the wrong things (which was still at least half the time because my concentration was not fully developed yet).

So the rest of the day it was more sporadic, not twitching constantly, but definitely still acting as a distraction. I spent most of the day very frustrated and wishing I had never come.

And then... Day 8 dawned! I woke up and noticed immediately that my eyelid wasn't twitching. I felt strong and my mind was so calm now that it didn't have to focus on the eyelid. The sunrise that morning was incredible and I sat for a long time on the bank of the pond in utter bliss and complete relaxation. The whole day I felt as light as air; I walked to breakfast and kept my mindfulness with me the entire day. That day I was able to focus on meditating as never before, and sometimes the bell ringing to bring us out of meditation came as a complete surprise. That evening they posted the schedule for Day 9. We were to have only one meal that day, in the morning, and spend the rest of the day in personal meditation. It wasn't divided for us and there was no guided meditation. There were no talks or teachings, no personal interviews for trouble with meditation, and no talking to the staff for any reason. It would be self-led and very intense. I saw this and continued to feel peaceful. I knew that I could do it.

Day 9 itself turned out not to be as enlightening as Day 8, but I did make it through the day with a lot more ease now that I knew that I was able to do anything I put my mind to. Some of the "rules" on Day 9 made me laugh... my favorite was, "If you choose to meditate outside of the meditation hall, do not meditate under coconut trees. Though it may seem a relaxing spot, a falling coconut could seriously disturb your concentration."

Things to ask me about when I get home: Buddhist chanting, Dr. Salmon, breathing and singing, jaw tension, conducting in the hot spring, pizza dreams, mindfulness, walking meditation, scorpions, discovering polyphony, mosquitoes.

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