31 December 2022

A bad night’s sleep, a bracing walk and a less than brilliant meditation where I think I dropped off a couple of times set out the start of the day.  There was another list in the discourse, ten things euphemistically described as enemy soldiers which could act as hurdles to successful meditation. They were listed, spelt out in detail and no doubt listed again but the drawn out presentation left my mind wandering elsewhere. That distraction followed me into the afternoon and I found myself wondering what the scanning achieved as the repetitiveness of it left me bored.  When I asked in the question session what the point was I was told that I would see, an answer that had been given previously to other questions in one form or another and for which further questioning had unearthed nothing.

Despite the frustrations and distractions clinging to me through the afternoon my day was made up when I accosted the member of staff who had the gong to announce tea; they allowed me to ring it, and it’s not as easy as you might think to get a good sound out of it, and so I walked into the dining room with a big grin on my face.

30 December 2022

Again I am up and around before the 4am gong to rouse us from sleep and I walk into a bracing wind as I cross the open lawn towards and around the pagoda. Its multi coloured lights are already on providing a bright focus in the darkness of early morning.  I walk down the road to the centre’s entrance and then feel my way around the garden in the dark before heading to the meditation hall early to try and get a head start in calming my mind.  I enjoy these mornings of solitude, they feel important to me.  It seems strange given that we do not talk and during the day the numbers of people you see seems far fewer than the 70 or so here. Yet despite this I still find a need for the isolation and peace that comes with my early starts.

While the discourses remain elusive with more about impermanence and those Kalapas rearing their head again, something seems to have come together with the meditation; what I feel is nowhere near as intense as that first experience two days ago but I do feel as if I am ‘in my body’ more and do not seem to be so affected by the build-up of sensations that has frustrated previously.  I still have to ‘reset’ a few times in the hour and a lot of concentration seems to be required but there is definitely progress. After the morning session I felt very relaxed - that feeling you get after a long but rewarding run - and an unprovoked desire to laugh out loud for reasons I can not work out and in the afternoon I manage to spend an hour sitting immobile even though I was willing the session to end towards the end.

It all goes wrong in the evening.  My mind is all over the place and I think of it as having a box of frogs in my head.  I give up after thirty minutes and leave.

29 December 2022

The new technique still eludes me and the various itches and aches call out for attention and relief as I move my attention around the body. I notice the sniffing and coughing and my contribution of a gurgling stomach which have been present for a few days more now as I am less ‘in my body’ and more aware of what is going on around me. When I open my eyes in frustration I see others in an apparent state of rigid serenity.

As the day wears on the meditation, with all its personal frustrations, is interrupted by the discourses - less intangible today but I am not sure what I should take from it – and the pleasurable distraction of meals – today a mushroom risotto with abundant salads for lunch and with puddings I tend to ignore.  Overall though I feel I have lost it: am I feeling what I should?; am I doing the wrong thing with the wrong result?; or the right thing with the wrong result or maybe even the right result?  I have no idea and I certainly do not feel ‘full of emotion’ or ‘like an empty vessel waiting to be filled’ which were two phrases of metaphysical guff that were said in the individual instruction sessions. Overall it is proving very frustrating getting to grips with this latest meditation technique with an element of intangibility I can not grasp. Although I do seem to recall similar levels of frustration in the first few days of the course when learning the earlier method. 

28 December 2022

Again I enjoyed the cool emptiness of the morning before most people were up.  Again the morning passed in the mediation hall firstly meditating - I seem to have a better grasp of things now - and then listening to the discourse before breakfast.  It struck me as I listened to today’s, covering some of the moral principles we are meant to be bound by during our stay here, that much of what we are being told comes in the form of entangled lists: we might hear about seven precepts that are divided into three principles each of which has two phases.  I now realise that historically this was as an oral philosophy and lists might make recalling things easier but here and now I find myself drifting away as my understanding gets bogged down in an entangled web made up of lists of ethical principles.

The question session draws from people the usual selection of silence, needless questions and, to me at least, assertive grandstanding (‘How can Buddha be a perfect man if he is clearly fallible since he has prejudices?’) but is followed by an excellent vegetarian beef wellington lunch and then a start to the afternoon that I can only say I found weird.

After lunch we moved to the next stage of our meditation, learning the Vipassana technique. It calls for the ability to start with a clear mind, hence the teaching of the last few days.  The teacher talked us through this now familiar first stage and then on to mentally scanning or bodies looking for sensations. As well as itching and soreness I felt pressure, tinglings and hands that felt as nothing more than a presence. But the strangest thing was when my whole body very suddenly heated up to the point I had to remove my jumper. As the hour progressed I found myself feeling different sensations in different parts of my body, sensations that dropped into the background as I moved my attention on but which I never managed to push completely away.  My whole body felt restless and I just wanted to get up and shake it out as you would a restless leg.

The sensations we all experienced are explained to us in the afternoon’s discourse, a discourse I found obscure, irrational and somewhat rambling.  A key aspect to ‘understanding’ Buddhism is accepting the idea of impermanence in everything including ourselves. As this idea has been introduced over the last couple of days people have pointed out that you can see this around you every day and for me the idea of impermanence in the individual is obvious from our aging and the billion pound industries that have grown up in trying to prevent it.  But our teacher explains it is more immediate than any of this and that according to Buddha everything is made of tiny subatomic particles, smaller than atoms, which include earth, fire, nutrition, and taste.  These ‘Kalpas’ separate and reform thousands of times a second and hence everything is in a permanent state of change and the sensations we feel in our meditation are this change.  I find myself becoming more detached from the teachings.  I also find myself wondering more acutely about the point of this meditation; it is supposed to bring ‘enlightenment’ but if that means accepting what we have been told about Kalapas then I am in a metaphysical dead end.  The aches and itches and soreness I sense while doing Vipassana and which frustrate and which I can not ignore seem to lead to nothing of value that I can relate to.

27 December 2022

I walked around the pagoda at 4am having woken early.  There is a cool breeze, a dark sky and there is the sound of an owl in the near distance.  The light wind also brings the intermittent sound of traffic from some distant road and I find a peaceful appreciation of this calm oasis I find myself in.

Yesterday I found myself wondering what this was all about.  If I were climbing a hill I would know that my efforts would be rewarded with great views from the summit.  Furthermore, as I moved towards the summit, those views would slowly open up before me giving a taste of what was to come.  But what about meditation?  I am unclear what value the effort I am making will bring, what that ‘view from the summit’ actually is in terms of meditation. If I get a calm mind in the meditation hall what benefit will this bring outside it; I am aware that I can achieve a calmer mind now while meditating than I could three days ago but what is the real value of that or is it an end itself?  Something clearly brings back those that sit in meditation, motionless for the whole hour but I am unclear as to what.

The morning repeated itself as those previously: mediation, discourse, food, rest.  You feel like you are half way through a day when it is only 9am and you are readying yourself for the morning discourse, archaic in style and words and drawn out. The ‘instruction’ hour is a period during which meditation is a little more relaxed as people move back and forth in small groups to sit in front of the teacher, say how they are getting on and ask any questions. One or two people clearly want to dig deeper into the ideas behind Buddhist philosophy, one or two seem to want to find controversy in what we have been told. Mostly not a lot is said, possibly because the sooner we finish the sooner we get to lunch. 

After another superb vegetarian lunch (egg curry plus numerous salads) I wandered around the gardens, drab and largely lifeless in their winter guise apart from what seemed a large number of blackbirds that seemed to ignore me as I wandered past. I took a few surreptitious photos on my phone that I had left in my car at the start of the course yet I had no urge to turn it on and check for news or messages, quite the reverse in fact.  I looked out across fields at the back of the centre, low clouds scudding by and the beginnings of rain in the air.  Buddhists may believe that there is more than one plane of existence, and this may not be the highest, but as I stood there with wind and sporadic rain drops in my face watching a murmuration of starlings in the opposite field it felt just perfect to me.

I noticed in the afternoon that there seemed to be fewer people in some of the afternoon sessions especially those where we are left to our own devices.  Some may have dropped out, although because we do not talk there is no way of knowing, others I think are taking the opportunity to rest when the teacher is absent. 

26 December 2022

Why my roommate turned his bedside light on at 3.20, lighting up the whole room, defeated me.  Of the three of us he was the only one with previous meditation experience and it brought to mind an article I had read just prior to the course describing how meditation could make people from western cultures more selfish.  And the ‘Noble Silence’ prevented me sharing my frustration.

The morning’s session left me feeling that I was getting better at retaining my focus and when I lost it, better at bringing myself back on track.  But I still had the soreness of yesterday evening (I had hoped it would have gone overnight) and I felt quite fidgety towards the end of the hour.

I enjoy the excellent lunch of lentil pie, make the most of the beautiful day by walking down the drive to the centre’s entrance (we have been told not to walk beyond the gate) and around the small garden.  In short periods of rest, I try for a few minutes of sleep.  I am definitely noticing a difference between the mornings, when I feel quite relaxed, and the afternoons, when I wonder ‘when will this end?’; an hour is a long time to sit and this afternoon my thoughts are everywhere.

Meals, discourse and the individual instruction periods provide a respite from focused meditation.  Today’s discourse was about a rich man who had made himself rich through good deeds in past lives (which seemed to involve in large measure giving alms to monks). He becomes a monk, gives his money away, says he is happy but his fellow monks can not believe this. But the Buddha says that this man is not lying and this is therefore proof we do not need money to be happy.  I find myself wondering about the strength of the ‘proof’ and the contradiction of the reward of riches for good deeds done in past lives when the moral of the story is that you do not need money to be happy in life.   

The afternoon’s instruction period has a woman trying to tell the teacher ‘for the benefit of the class’ about how she has had an abortion (against the ‘do not kill’ requirement of Buddhism) but still feels that she is following the rules of conduct and how the teachings need updating.  During the discussion the teacher is clearly getting irritated; he is the teacher, she is the student and therefore she has no place trying to give others the ‘benefit’ of her thoughts and that it is not for him to change the teachings.  It is becoming clear that this man, who was attracted to Buddhism when young, has a very clear personal attitude to the Buddhist doctrine.

Towards the end of the day with a sore hip that makes me limp for a while when we leave the hall, and watching others who are clearly in some discomfort themselves, more negativity hits me and I wonder if there is any point in achieving a sound mind at the expense of your body. 

The 'Noble Silence'

One of the requirements of the ‘Noble Path’ is the need for ‘Right Speech’ which covers the need to abstain from divisive speech and idle chatter. The reason for the silence here is to help us to adhere to this requirement.  Interestingly in some retreats in Asian countries there is no need to be silent as people in these countries are more respectful in their speech and with only a little thought can meet the need for ‘right speech’.  We in the west it seems are less restrained. I for one found it interesting over the duration of the course how often I thought of things I would like to share with others if only I were allowed to speak and then, because I could not, realising that the thing I would have said without thinking was, although not blatantly rude, was frivolous or less than respectful.  That itself is food for thought.

Although we were required to observe the ‘Noble Silence’ I felt that a cursory nod of welcome or gratitude would be polite and acceptable.  However, it turned out that it was like being on the underground in London, trying to catch the eye of people who walked around trying hard to avoid any form of eye contact and effectively giving me, as I thought of it, a ‘Noble Stiff Ignoring’.  Nevertheless, there is something about it. You are alone and not distracted.  I enjoyed it and despite my early reservations I found it easy to adhere to.  And, despite the intended reason for the ‘Noble Silence’ I found it rewarding in another way; it helped to reinforce that sense of isolation from the manic real world.  A consequence of not talking though is I find myself evaluating people on their appearance, not really whether attractive or otherwise but by dress and poise and manner.  This can not be positive and it will be interesting to see how any views I establish change if I get the chance to talk to some of these people at the end of the course.

25 December 2022

I was up and showered before the 4am gong which gave me some time to myself before most people stirred, a strange desire when there is no verbal interaction so you are relatively isolated anyway.  But it still felt a valuable thing to do.  I found myself wondering why I was here; not a good start to the day.

Despite that initial negativity I felt I was beginning to ‘get it’ in the morning session, my new position making things more comfortable.  There were still aches but nothing like yesterday and I could get into a frame of mind where I could ignore them.  I still find it hard to not let the mind wander: ‘I wonder what will be for breakfast; should I go to Lacock on the way home?; did I sort everything I needed to at home before leaving?’. I also realised during the course of my meditations that today was Christmas; I clearly was not focusing hard enough… Afterwards I took the opportunity to make the short walk to, and around, the large golden pagoda in the gardens.  With its bright multi-coloured strings of lights and bells that tinkle brightly in the breeze it offers a pleasing beacon of noise and brightness in the dark of the morning and the silence of the isolated bubble we occupy.

Yesterday in the evening’s discourse-come-sermon we were told about the Buddhist ‘Noble Path’, behaviours you must follow to underpin your personal development through meditation.  Some of the restrictions we have while here are aimed at supporting this requirement.  Twice a day we are called up in groups of five to sit in front of the teacher, asked if all is going well and given the opportunity to ask questions.  For my part there was not much to say but today before lunch one of the group declared he was gay and had clearly taken exception to the previous night’s discourse; he complained of being ‘othered’ and would not let go of the issue.  I sat there trying to work out what had offended him as I could recall nothing about homosexuality in the discourse but I did remember that sex outside marriage was considered sexual misconduct and so I suppose I should have felt ‘othered’ as well.  Instead I simply thought that things said over two thousand years ago in a different time and culture where the idea of marriage was different had no bearing on my life in today’s world. 

There was Christmas cake at lunch (although described as fruit cake it had the icing and marzipan and silver balls that showed it for what it was).  The food here is proving to be excellent and I have not previously seen such a large selection of sauces and chutneys and other condiments, all of quality and some new to me; no tomato ketchup of brown sauce here. Nevertheless, it is strange sitting and eating in silence, especially when I know there are some interesting people among the diners who, under normal circumstance, I would enjoy sharing time with. The silence also turns a normally communal activity into one of pure functionality - at least for me - so I am in and out quickly, giving me the opportunity to get some sleep (which is proving quite easy) or stretch the body and get fresh air walking in the grounds before the gong calls us to our next session.

All I seem to recall of the afternoon was the toll the amount of time I was spending sitting was taking on my behind and how a day doing nothing was not an easy thing to do.

24 December 2022

The rules of silence did not stop one of my room mates snoring during the night.

I was awake and sitting quietly on my bed when the gentle reverberation of the gong rang through the courtyard outside. I felt relatively well rested and walked out into the cold morning and admired the night sky while others tried to eke out a few more minutes of rest before the day’s start.

As the meditation hall filled for the first session of the day it was clear that for many this was serious business; quite a few wore the traditional wrap around longyi robe of Burma and were able to sit motionless throughout the classes.  For me, as I tried to focus on the feeling of my breath under my nose, things were much more amateurish. My mind was either snapshots images – it reminded me of the beginning of the old Thunderbirds television programmes where they preview parts of the programme in short scenes – or an extended narrative.   Rarely does my mind seem clear.

Afterward the teacher gave us our first ‘discourse’, effectively a sermon focused on the life of Buddha or Buddhist philosophy with a link into meditation in some way.  Although my aim here was to learn to meditate I guess the pagoda outside should have been a clue that there would be some element of Buddhism drawn in.  The session ended with some (untranslated) words in Bali from the teacher – some sort of veneration I guess – followed by a response with hands clasped but those who knew what they were doing while the rest of us looked on bemused.

We worked through the routine of the day: meditation periods and a hearty breakfast and lunch - plenty of excellent vegetarian food on offer - and grabbing short periods of sleep in between when the programme allowed.  My morning was better than the fidgety and distracted experience from last night and I felt maybe things were making sense until the afternoon where my sore back proved a major distraction.

During a break I packed away my ipad that I had brought as an alarm but, with the gong, I clearly did not need. Likewise with a small earphone radio I had brought ‘just in case’.  Already I was feeling that they would be an intrusion, drawing the outside world into this bubble of peace and tranquillity in which I now found myself. I had a similar feeling about the notebook in which I write this diary but with such a repetitive programme over a relatively long period writing things contemporaneously is going to be the only way to capture the daily progression of my thoughts.  I feel it is more a distraction than an intrusion so I will continue to make my notes as the days go by, albeit surreptitiously behind the privacy curtains of my bunk bed. 

In the final session of the evening I adopted a position with my back against the wall and that made a lot of difference to how I felt physically.  One hour is still a long time to sit and meditate but it was much easier now.  It was a long day, made more so by some of the meditation sessions that seemed to drag on more than others.

23 December 2022

My arrival in the dark of early evening saw me joining others milling around in an element of semi-organised confusion awaiting covid tests prior to entering the centre proper.  I was then taken into the long dining room - the fold-up plastic tables and whitewashed walls giving it the look and feel of a long village hall – and joined those sitting around waiting to register and hand in their mobile phones.  A cup of tea and a bowl of wholesome soup filled time during the next period of waiting prior to being taken to my accommodation and around the centre.  Quiet conversation filled the air although I sensed that many, like me, were a little restrained, unsure when the silence of this silent retreat was meant to start. 

The centre is in an old farmhouse, set around three sides of a small gravel courtyard with dining room one side and meditation halls and accommodation on the others.  Men and women are kept apart: in the dining room they sit one side and the men the other and there are separate meditation rooms.  Ours had a long parquet floored, clearly once a small barn, and blank walls other than the far end where two large photographs of the Burmese founders of the centre sat on a slightly raised stage along with smaller photographs of pagodas and temples elsewhere in the world. Three rows of mats along the length of the hall accounted for about 40 people in this one room alone; I was told while registering that 75 were attending the course, many more than I had expected.  It also had a much larger international flavour than I had anticipated; I had heard accents from North America and Australia as well as from across Europe. 

Just before 8pm a gong announced the introductory meditation class.  I would get used to the sound of that gong over the next few days as it announced the start of the day, classes and meals, a much more pleasant and less intrusive sound than any alarm.  As we sat there in our rows the teacher – a grey haired Swiss in his sixties – entered, sat cross legged on a small stool on the front stage and started a pre-recorded greeting or incantation in the Bali language.  It was the first indication that there would be a stronger Buddhist thread running through the course than I had anticipated. 

The idea of what we had to do is easy: sit there breathing through your nose and focusing on the feeling of the breath on your nostrils or lower lips on both the in and out breath.  Like trying to learn a golf swing, the theory and practise take a while to come together: my mind was wandering, there was a lot of thinking going on in there and a lot of it was about why I was having trouble feeling my own breath and why this simple process did not seem to be working.  Then, after a while, the aching of my left hip as I sat cross legged on my mat became another distraction.  An hour is a long time in that frame of mind.

I am now back in my room which I am sharing with two others.  It was strange walking back with them but saying nothing.  A simple affair, it has a couple of bunk beds and a third bed in the corner and reminds me of well-appointed Youth Hostel accommodation.  Like the meditation hall it is comfortably warm.  Tomorrow we start in earnest; we will be woken at 4am by the gong for the first of our daily 4.30am meditation sessions so an early night seems in order, especially as there is no chance of passing time with conversation getting to know my fellow course members.

Introduction

A while ago I was cycling through country lanes a few miles from home and, on the outskirts of a small village, I noticed across the fields a giant golden pagoda.  When I eventually remembered to look up as to why it was there – I thought it was likely a folly in the gardens of a well-travelled Asiaphile – it turned out to be a meditation centre.  For a while I have wanted to try meditation and being right on the doorstep it seemed like this centre was too good an opportunity to miss.  A course over Christmas and New Year may sound an unusual choice but that is the course I chose; the idea of being away from the Festive madness appealed.  So I now find myself on a ten day course starting at the end of December with some seven hours of meditation each day and in which there will be no phones, no talking, no alcohol, no meat, books, television or radio.  It will mostly definitely be a very different Christmas.