The Sound of Silence

"Expecting our problems to go away is truly our fundamental problem. We resist facing our life as it is, because facing life as it is means abandoning how we think our life should be."
- Ezra Bayda

Over the weekend I went on a silent meditation retreat. This was my fourth retreat. As they are not associated with any particular practice, we look at teachings from different schools on each one. This time it was the Zen Buddhist teachings of Ezra Bayda. I found the readings very helpful and accessible, so if you are contemplating meditation, I would recommend looking him up.

When I tell people that I am going on a silent meditation retreat I am often met with a combination of awe and suspicion: "You can't talk to anyone for a whole weekend?", "What do you do?", "There's no way I could do that.", "Um, why?" I find these responses amusing because when I first heard about these retreats my response was so different. I was more like "That sounds interesting, sure I'll go."

The first time I went on one of these retreats I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. Like I've said, I'm a jumper. A friend of mine goes on them regularly and she gave me her version of what happens on these retreats... and I naively took her word for it. I had quite bad hay fever at the time and I asked her if it would be OK for me to blow my nose during the meditation sessions. She insisted that no, it would not be OK, and so I didn't bother bringing many kleenex with me. (In retrospect, considering how anal I am about blowing my nose, I don't really know why I agreed to go along with that.) Her version of what happens on these retreats was more about her own initial concerns about going on them than what actually happens on them. Not the most helpful advise, as I soon found out!

The retreats start on Friday evening and end at lunch time on Sunday, so it's really more like a day and a half of silence than a whole weekend of silence. But that first retreat felt like a month of silence! It dawned on me as the first meditation session started on that warm October night that a) I had no idea how to meditate, b) I had no idea what was going to happen to me, and c) I had no idea what was going to happen to me!!!

The meditation sessions are structured so that at the start we are given a reading, which Don (the guy who runs the weekend) reads out and then we are given some time to reflect on it before moving into the actually meditation. Don provides instructions for those who want them at the start of the meditation, and then it's 30 minutes or so of total silence. As I know now, the instructions start out pretty basic, and as the weekend progresses Don adds in more instructions and encouragements - the most helpful, for me, of which is: whenever the mind wanders, no matter how long or what it's wandered to, it is always a smiling, accepting return to the focus.

That first weekend my mind was all over the place! Focusing on my breath seemed to be pretty much the most impossible task you could set for me. Well, that and being silent around other people. I hadn't expected that to bother me, but when I woke up that first Saturday morning the idea of being around other people caused me so much anxiety that I ran outside and sat, meditating, in a field. My hay fever punished me for the rest of the weekend for that, but, I have to admit it was pretty amazing.

That first Saturday seemed to go on forever. There are 5 formal meditation sessions on the Saturday, which leaves a fair bit of down time. And what does one do with one's down time on a silent meditation retreat? I had no idea. I did, however, have a desire to be close to nature and that lead to some bird watching and me climbing up into a gum tree to meditate. I experienced the whole gammit of human emotions on that first weekend, from rage to elation. And when I was happy it felt overwhelming to keep that emotion for myself. I found myself smiling at people and trying to get them to make eye contact (along with no talking, there's not meant to be any non verbal communicating either).

While the Saturday seemed to go on forever, the Sunday came to an end much too fast. I had just gotten the hang of things and suddenly I had to pack up and go talk to people! I only knew a few people at that first retreat and I felt shy going into the dining room for lunch when the silence had ended. But, I sat down with my friends and they were happy enough to listen to me re-live every moment of the retreat.

Each retreat has been a different experience for me, though it has always been a positive experience and it's always bittersweet when the silence ends on Sunday. I have gotten a lot more comfortable with meditating and find it much easier to quiet my mind these days, though I definitely still find myself wandering off to the most mundane places.

One of the difficulties with meditation is that it makes you sleepy (in fact, often when I'm having trouble falling asleep the first thing I do is meditate). On the second retreat, I was quite tired and planned to use the weekend to catch up on my sleep. And boy did I ever! I fell asleep in every meditation session, except one. And the only reason I stayed awake in that session was because I had slept through the call to meditation. I was fast asleep, with no pants on, in my little room, when suddenly there was a knock on my door. I nearly jumped out of my skin! I tried to jump into my pants and get to the door as fast as I could, since I didn't want to break my silence to say "just a minute!" I spent that session wide awake!

I had just finished reading Eat, Pray, Love before going on the third retreat and I was excited to try out some of Liz Gilbert's meditation practices. As much as I loved that book, I have to say that it's been more of a hinderance than a help to my meditation! Now I often find myself comparing my meditation experiences, during meditation, to hers. And that is most unhelpful!

So what happened on this weekend? I'd been feeling a bit lonely prior to this retreat. Most of my friends are people from uni and it seemed like everyone was too busy with their work and their own lives to do anything social. I felt the absense of community that comes with being an expat. But when I arrived at the monistary on Friday night I suddenly found myself surrounded by smiling, accepting, and compassionate familiar faces. The irony of finding community on an inward spiritual journey isn't lost on me. This time I even looked forward to Sunday lunch, when I'd have a chance to actually catch up with all these familiar faces.

You don't need much in the way of stuff on these retreats, so I've learned to pack light. As I was sitting in the meditation room waiting for the retreat to officially begin I went over what I had brought with me...and realized I'd forgotten my toothbrush just as the bell was rung to signify the start of the nobile silence. D'oh! The first session was about how we try to create control in an essentially uncontrollable world. How apt!

I generally don't come out of these retreats feelings like I have resolved some issue in my life or whatever. I always feel calmer and have a temporary sense of inner peace. Sometimes I feel like something has shifted, sometimes I don't. I got a lift back into the city after the retreat, and as I got out of the car I had a strong sensation that I'd left something behind. I was struck by the same sensation when I got off the tram. I think this weekend I managed to leave some of my sadness behind.