Buddhist Adventure

We were awakened before dawn to grope our respective ways to the toilet where there were not enough sinks or stools to accommodate all of us at once, but after standing in line, most of us, we reached our destinations. Then as directed we walked up the covered path pictured in a photo below to the meditation hall, another large cement block building. Inside were probably one hundred fifty meditation mats lined up quite close together but with a broad aisle running down the center, separating the men from the women who had entered on the other side. Most of the meditators had their own personal prayer benches or zafus to sit on, but an inventory was offered at the entrance for those like me who had not yet acquired them. My place was in the next to the last row indicating that someone had made a judgment from the written applications that I was not to be placed in the last row.

After being seated in our assigned places a young lady appeared from behind a drape on the dais before us and seated herself cross-legged.

Instructions were given by Mr. Goenka on tape, directing us to simply take note of the sensations at the tip of our noses as we breathed. And we did this for an hour despite the pain in our knees, admonished to ignore it, or concentrate our attention upon it, discovering its elements and that it was impermanent, as were all events and sensations in life. Unfortunately in this context it meant only that the pain moved to another area of the body.

And this is what we did, an hour at a time, aching for the sound of the bell that ended a session. Between sessions we walked in an adjoining field, slowly and deliberately with our attention on our movements and the sensations felt in our feet and legs, doing a prescribed walking meditation. This was our routine for the ten day period with meals at six and eleven in the morning, with a piece of fruit at five. All of this was done in silence with the exception of the recorded instructions given by Mr. Goenka. Silence meant we were not to talk to anyone nor communicate in any manner, even with simple eye contact.

After three and a half days while meditating in the hall we were told to direct our attention to the middle of our head, to the soft spot where the skull comes together. When I did this it was like someone was standing before me pushing his thumb down on my head. Then as directed we consciously directed this sensation spreading it over the top of the head feeling prickly sensations wherever the attention was directed. This was the manner of our meditation for the duration of the retreat, deliberately scanning our body as directed by our teacher, learning that these lively sensations were always there to be discovered. (to be continued)

Meditation 1

Underhill, Evelyn. _Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of
Man's Spiritual Consciousness._ E.P. Dutton, New York. 1961.

"(5) Certain processes, of which contemplation has been taken as a type,
can so alter the state of consciousness as to permit the emergence of this
deeper self; which, according as it enters more or less into the conscious
life, makes man more or less a mystic. The mystic life, therefore, involves
the emergence from deep levels of man's transcendental self; its capture of
the field of consciousness; and the 'conversion' or rearrangement of his
feeling, thought, and will--his character--about this new centre of life."
pp.67-68

Buddhist Adventure

So after filling up on meat I returned to the "temple" and killed some time talking to others who had arrived early and waiting for the four o'clock check in time. A young lady finally set herself up at a card table and we waited our turns to validate our preregistration, done thoroughly many weeks before when we filed our written applications, responding to questions about our previous meditation retreats and medications we took.

As directed I parked my car in a neighboring field, warned that I should remove anything I needed diuring the retreat because I would not be allowed access to it until the retreat ended. A young man then showed me to my "room," created in a large cement block building with drapes hanging from ropes strung across giving each of the participants a private area. Mine was just large enough to contain a cot with space for me to climb into it and a place to set my unopened suitcase. But it was located close to the shower room and toilet comforting me with the thought that someone was aware of the needs of an elderly person.

Supper was in another dimmly lighted cement block building on the other side of the breezeway served buffet style with picnic benches to sit on. Strung across the room was a canvas curtain screening us from the women whose chatter we could hear on the other side. Their sleeping accomodations were on the other side of the building in the old farm house. Great pains were taken to keep us separate at all times during the retreat.

After supper another young man told us how this world wide vipassana organization was created through the efforts and financial resources of S.N. Goenka, an Indian industrialist who suffered from migraine headaches and finally found relief through this particular method of meditation. He also informed us of our ungodly hours, rising early in the morning with a half hour for getting ready, meditation before breakfast served at six, lunch at eleven and a piece of fruit or juice in the evening. There were rest periods after the meals, but most of the time was dedicated to meditation. (to be continued)