The short version
Lots of words to say... finally... but if you can't be bothered to read, just be assured that any inkling of donning a white robe and retreating into the forrest for the rest of my days soon came to an end on Day 3 when as the head monk said:
"There is no me eating this food"...
... well, what's the point of living then? I'll stay attached to my ego and struggle on.
For those of you who want to know more, read on otherwise here's a pic, turn right in front of Nirvana and move on to next post...
10 Days out of my life
Waking up on Day 10 on the last dong of the 4am gong with a rush of "I'm so excited, I just can't hide it...." by the Pointer Sisters was perhaps (not) the best reflection of my state of meditative bliss and enlightenment!
It was pure hell.... at times and at others absolute calm. Not talking was easy. It was the excessive commentary of chatter from the teasing monkey mind and the occasional pawing of the "caged tiger in the heart". Amid this was the constancy of nature, the sunrise over the lilypond after yoga, the birdcalls and cackles, the haunting "tukair" of the lizard shuddering the evening air and the reassuring "you can do it" Punch and Judy show put on at dusk by a bird that would help me to stay in the excruciating seated meditation position until the bell would release us to group walking meditation around the ponds to stand and stare and silently bay at the full moon.
There was a definite element of yoga-yogi transcendental wahwahism among the 120 meditators and then a Kate Winslett (a la Hideous Kinky - if you've seen that film), the Russian actress Olga who would dare to break the rule and lie down in the mediation hall, a Russian guy who'd wander around creating expressive balanced sculptures around the fields and ponds that constituted our hermitage for 10 days, and the rather unhinged and fragile young woman who literally howled into the open mic on the last night and then sobbed uncontrollably during the final reading - Chief Seattle's Speech (recreated by Ted Perry 1970, worth a read).
So the meals. Alas no curry for breakfast, just a really bland brown rice slurry with a chinese leaf for breakfast at 7.30 and then lunch at 12.30, usually curry, brown rice and tofu in various guises. I lost my winter insulation and the spine began to wear a little on the wooden bed (with bamboo mat, blanket and mosquito net, not forgetting the wooden pillow, with dip carved for the head. Nun Supranee kindly suggested we cover this with the blanket for a good nights rest). Surprisingly (or not, due to the relentless rigour of the schedule from 4am-9.30pm (lights out) of sitting, standing, walking meditation, readings, Dhamma talks, chores. In the time off teeth cleaning and clothes washing became an obsession. The hot spring in a rush after the morning chore before the morning bell calling us back to the meditation hall was a moment of relief. The back unblocked and the mind let go. But then it was a rush back, wearing the sarong and towel to cover the arms, to the women's dorm where the sarong stayed on as washing was around a communal trough of water with "cun" or bowls to pour water over the body. We were expected to respect Thai modesty and temple tradition.
Sanity was maintained by Mae Chee (Nun) Supranee who taught us yoga in the morning and chanting in Pali and Loving Kindness Meditation at the end of the afternoon before tea (or excessively sweet milo/choc milk) that was our dinner. Her presence in the meditation room with the monk Acharn Po (aged 80 and still sitting cross legged) was an inspiring presence that kept me on that meditation mat despite bodily remonstrations. I had to resort to my standing qigong arms position as arms on the lap or knees became too painful. I hated those yoga people for being so comfortably bendy. In fact I hated everyone. And then the monk or the speakers would somehow notice my state of mind and say that hate only leads to "Ducca" (Pali word for suffering) as the person you hate doesn't notice and it's only yourself who is feeling the hate.
Tandamaveda, a rather sardonic forrest monk from Bristol fast tracked us through the breathing "anapanasati" practice and the Buddha's Dhamma teachings which for him were more of a profound theoretical and practical psychology than a spiritual quest. He disdainfully dissed the hand that fed him criticising the Thai's for Brahman demonism and their fear of "peeh" or ghosts, their belief in reincarnation which brings them to feed him and his fellow monks (who apparently often smell of pee cos they wear no knickers!). His belief was that Buddhism as preached by the late Acharn Buddadahsa who founded Wat Suan Mokkh is about controlling the mind and not letting it become attached - No me, no mine - through the 'defilements' of lust, ignorance and vengence (represented by the cockerel, pig and snake in the Tibbetan Wheel of Life), which once purified can become enlightened and not reborn which only leads to suffering etc. This is quite different from the Hindu idea of reincarnation adopted by many that good deeds in this life will bring us back into a higher cast in the next one. Enough of the preaching. I actually slept through a lot of the lunchtime talks in the heat of the afternoon.
What I did get out of the retreat were moments of self-realisation about ingrained patterns of behaving that really are not worth holding on to. On the board one of the daily messages says:
"It's not what you get out of a retreat, it's what you let go".
The universe was talking to me and no more so than when we were having tea before leaving (I'd spent at least an hour or two every day needlessly pondering on modes of transport for my escape) when a really whacky 70 something Canadian (who's motto was "Everything is just perfect!") announced "If anyone wants a lift to Bangkok..." "Yes please". I was back in Bangkok intime for late noodle lunch with PORK (breaking the first of the five or eight precepts of not taking life). The other Canadian who was a decade younger but spinning perilously near the edge had a moment of enlightenment on his last retreat in 2009 when a centipede climbed up his back and only when he went to move it with his hand did it bite him. The pain was excruciating for a few hours, but the following day had an outer body mediation experience for about 2 hours and apologised to all the bugs he'd been scared of and killed in his previous years of life. This made me relieved that on Day 7, the sweet Thai woman behind me had noticed and pointed out the centipede crawling on to the sack that we and our pillows sat on. I picked up the sack and took it out to the field, freed the beast. The other interesting thing was that all 3 of us in the car had "issues" with our fathers. I felt quite fortunate as mind hadn't beaten the crap out of me when I was young. But although at least a decade separated us our fathers all died within 2 months of each other in 2011.
Several swims, lovely meals, morning qigong on the balcony watching the squirrels playing in the mango tree below, the black cats walking on corrugated iron roofs and listening to the matinal cacophany of bird call as five suns rise reflected on the windows in the sister Harmony II building on Pahonyotin Soi 11. However, I really notice the smoke in the city air which is a little suffocating after a week on an island and 10 days in the forrest.
Enjoying nice chats with my friends Tang and Latifa and I feel ready to head to Cambodia in the morning to join Simone and Cornelia.
