My vipassana experience: Part 1

I got back yesterday evening after 4 days at a vipassana meditation retreat at a beautiful national park just outside of kathmandu. The retreat was set to last 10 days, so I left earlier than expected. We started with around 80-90 students, and about 70 remained when I left, most on the second day. That is also when I had my first doubts.

I've organized my thoughts enough to write about this in two sections. First, and most prominent in my mind, is the experience of the meditation regimen itself. Second, I'll explain what an ordeal it was to actually leave once I decided that's what I wanted to do.

If you didn't see my previous post about the course time table, you might glance over it below. To summarize, you wake up every morning at 4am, then meditate straight until 9pm with 3 short meal breaks and 2ish hours of rest. All in all, it comes out to 11-12 hours of daily meditation.

During this time (at least for the first few days) you focus entirely on the sensation of the breath coming in and going out of your nose. Thoughts and emotions will arise, yes. And sitting completely still for that long, you will experience physical pain. But you simply re-focus your attention on the breath, ignoring what arises. This technique is different from other types of meditation I've done in this regard, as other forms have you deal with what arises in ways besides ignoring them. But I found this extremely effective. At various times during my sittings, I felt anger, frustration, fear, sadness, doubt, anxiety, and exhaustion; but I also felt bliss, contentment, patience, and a profound peace of mind and body. A cried a few times, at least once out of frustration and self pity, and once out of joy for successfully subduing the rancorous pleas of my mind and body to give up. If you've ever tried just sitting alone quietly, trying to clear your mind of all thoughts and emotions, or focus just on one thing for an extended period of time, you know how difficult this can be. Some called it the "monkey mind," because it swings from branch to branch constantly without stopping, similar to how our minds constantly go from thought to thought. The important thing is to remember that you are not your thoughts or emotions. They are fleeting, will come and go consistently, while it is YOU that constantly remains regardless of what changes occur within and around you.

Surprising to myself, the process was not as difficult as I feared it might be. The longest meditation I'd done to this point was 1 hour, so 11 is unfathomable. But when you fully engage with the technique, always shifting your mind back to the breath no matter what arises - positive or negative -  it becomes effective and natural, an instinctive reaction almost. The key is to live entirely in the present moment, not entertaining thoughts of what has been (thoughts of the past) or what might be (thoughts of the future). In this state, your breath is the only reality, and therefore the only place for the attention to go. This is made easier in this retreat by outlawing all forms of technology, communication (even among students - it's a silent retreat), writing, books, and exercise. Literally the only things you do are meditate, eat, and sleep.

The most difficult aspect of all this for me was the physical pain I experienced. Imagine sitting completely still in cross-legged position, with a straight back, for hours on end. Inevitably, you have to shift - the pain becomes unbearable. You feel it in your back, your neck, your legs, and even your shoulders and arms. But the goal is to delay this movement as long as possible, focusing on the breath rather than the pain. The longest I went without movement was an hour and a half, and that was when I cried out of sheer happiness and pride for fighting off my own mind so successfully. The idea behind all this is that you obtain mastery over your own mind, regardless of internal and external circumstances, so you may always consciously decide on your actions, rather than simply reacting to stimuli. For instance, when I found myself becoming annoyed by people next to me shifting loudly or coughing without covering their mouths (you can hear the difference, even with your eyes closed), I reminded myself that it wasn't their actions or the noises themselves that are inherently annoying, but rather my assessment of those noises. In other words, nothing outside you annoys you. Its you who allow or make those things to be annoying to yourself. I hope to apply this mindset to people I encounter daily, especially those I don't understand initially.

One of the things that I learned about myself is that there is a lot of pain, fear, anger, and insecurity inside. I think we all have this if we take the time to listen, even if it's buried deeply. Insecurities regarding school, future careers, and relationships past and present came to mind. Personally, I think this all stems from an insecurity about being loved. Honestly, I think that's true for everyone. If you fully love yourself - accept all your mistakes and honor your successes - and feel truly loved by others, it's hard to imagine feeling insecure. But we don't fully love ourselves, and so we seek ways to prove our worthiness to others, seeking validation, which we hope will make us feel more loved, and, ultimately secure. But that's not how it works. As I mentioned above, it's not external things that are annoying, but your internal operations that make them so. In the same way, you'll never find love, contentment, or security by seeking it externally. It has to come from within. Yet, realizing this intellectually is one thing, but realizing it on an experiential level is quite another. To really achieve that takes much time and effort, certainly more than I put into 4 days. But acknowledging that reality is an important step.

This is a piece of the positive experiences I had at this retreat. I've been meditating and recommending meditation to people for years, and I believe more than ever it's something you owe yourself to do. And by meditating I mean simply sitting with yourself and observing what arises in the mind and body, and accepting it. No religious connotations, no chanting, no prayer beads, and no need to fly to Nepal to isolate yourself for an extended period of time. It's the simplest thing you can do, but also the most profound and rewarding. I promise you that.

I'm still on retreat time, despite staying at a hostel, and so I woke up early. The sun is rising though, and it's time to eat breakfast and begin another day in Kathmandu. I'll write the second section later. That part involves less peace of mind and more stress. I'm still shaken up by it all.