If you haven't and care to read my newsletter preceding this year's retreat it can be found here.
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It is 6:30am on Saturday January 7th, and the final hours of my meditation retreat, as I write this. I began this year’s retreat on Monday evening (January 2nd) following one of the more hectic days I have experienced in recent memory. I woke up in my partner’s bed Monday morning, which had not been my intention - but she can be persuasive, and I’m very easy to persuade in certain respects. Upon waking I meditated as always, though it is safe to say my mind was in two places. Immediately after Monday morning’s sit I rushed home to my apartment and drank my last hurried cup of coffee for the next several weeks as I franticly cleaned my studio before my first student arrived. Two students and a class later, I was an hour behind schedule when I arrived home - with rain threatening my opportunity at one last run. I changed clothes and drove to the park, arriving as the rain started. Turned the car around, drove back home more than a little frustrated - playing mental gymnastics about the best course of action. Deciding the rain wasn’t that heavy and I was being more a wus than cautious I drove back to the park and went on my run. 2.2 miles in 22 minutes, this was a victory; the past two weeks of training hadn’t gone as I planned. I plan my year of training to have a climax the week before New Years (the week of my meditation retreat) as the week of fasting takes a toll on my body and January will be spent attempting regain the losses incurred during this time. I lost 11 pounds (5lbs of muscle) in the past four days of fasting. I came down with a nasty sinus infection on Christmas Eve and most of my maximal efforts fell a bit short of my goals (not to mention it was an uncomfortable way to experience the holiday season). The run was a win. I went home to eat my last meal for several days, though my plan to sit down and enjoy my quinoa, eggs, tuna and kimchi - turned into eating over the stove as I attempted to bottle up and freeze left overs between bites. Satiated, I wrote an overdue and reluctant check to the IRS and broke up cardboard boxes for disposal. 7pm with my last task of doing dishes, I realized I was standing in a puddle of water; My kitchen sink pipe had sprung a leak. This was it. For 15 minutes I canceled my retreat - resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t meant to be and began telling stories about how this whole retreat thing is stupid and unnecessary - just an avoidance of my responsibilities in the world.
This being the third year of my silent retreat, it seems safe to say it has now become a tradition. The cancelation didn’t last more then 15 minutes and at sometime today I still need to snake the drain and probably contact a plumber - which was one of many unwelcome and persistent thoughts through the week. For 23 years I have sat in silent meditation for a minimum of 10 mins a day, for the past 10 years closer to 20, and for the past 3 years 30-40mins a day. In the beginning 10mins felt like an eternity and, like any practice, eventually 30 minutes felt like 10; but there is only so much time in a day and so developing a practice of meditation requires running a metaphorical marathon on occasion. The first two years of my retreat were mapped out meticulously, setting a timer for 30 minute sits, followed by a 10 min stretch session and repeat. This year had a more organic feel, following the general template of previous retreats but more adaptable within the foundations built. My physical training follows a similar trajectory with months of very specific programing, usually becoming slightly more improvisatory once the wheels of routine are in motion and circling back around to specificity when improvisation becomes unrigorous and less measurable. I suspect future meditation retreats will return to a restructuring as needed. This year sitting meditation only comprised approximately 3 hours a day, with a 2 hour walking meditation, 1 hour standing meditation and 2-3 hours of stretching/postural meditation. Other waking hours consisted of doing math (a practice of non linguistic logic - and something I have historically had challenges with), reading (“Perennial Philosophy” by Aldous Huxley) and journaling on the events of the day - thoughts, emotions and observations that felt necessary to record and reference at a later date. As one of the explicit goals of my extended sits is a departure from self “identity,” I try to keep journalling to a minimum; the act of writing allows for much self-expression and this would negate much of my intentions. Reading too has its disadvantages, spending time in the world of words is largely the antithesis of meditation; I always choose a book or essay that is directly related to the content of silent retreat. The “Perennial Philosophy” looks to bridge many of the world’s religions and spiritual philosophies, finding the themes that repeat throughout centuries and across oceans to speak on the common philosophy of the “Divine Ground” as Aldous calls the concept also referred to as Logos (Christian Mysticism) and Tao (Taoist Philosophy).
Last year, I journaled the desire to bridge the retreat into everyday life. Looking at the ways I use meditative mind in the world I believe this goal has been accomplished, however large gaps exist… I find myself resistant to the business of being in the world, simple tasks of responding to emails, paying bills or running errands often escape the selfless mind found in meditation - a nervous tick may arise as I attempt to navigate a new portal to pay my health insurance after weeks of avoiding the looming cloud of this necessary task. I remember times in my life where administrative tasks were not so immense; when owning a Yoga studio and organizing community there was a “why” that superseded the “how.” In recent years I’ve allowed the feeling of resignation to excuse kicking the can of mundane existence down the road. Meditation and spiritual practices can be misused as a method of bypassing the work of being in the world (Karma/work, in a Yoga context), and I have most certainly been guilty of this at times. In retreat (at least as I understand and practice the term) one goes past the surface level pleasures that may be found in superficial spiritual practice, true rapture is only found in sacrifice - the giving up of attachment. I often felt intense desire to get back to life, to eat food, to be comforted by my partner - moving forward I’ve given up caffeine and cannabis for the month (as is generally part of the deal for my January), two personally favorite consumables which are sacrificed to some higher ideal than any momentary pacifier can appease. Among other effects these sacrifices are to remind the spirit (not the personality) what is left when everything else is stripped away - to be reminded of the meta “why,” if not facilitate a spark to some specific “why” to move toward in manifest existence.
At its most base, meditation is said to be preparation for death and winter contains the spirit of death. I’m often asked if my time was good or enjoyable, which I find unanswerable. It can be excruciating (mentally and physically) to sit for countless hours; but it can at times be most illuminating and inspiring, the seeds that lie beneath a cold and frozen ground are safely gestating and moments of light and warmth may shake them from there slumber. But death is not simply waiting, the life that will arise in spring from the seeds planted in autumn are not the same life the flourished last summer - though it may be of a similar kind/genus. As mentioned above, meditation and death contain the release of identity. There is no doing in either of these spaces, though being of a kind remains. Whatever arises from this space will not be that which entered. Siddhartha (like Christ) on his path to become Buddha was met with several obstacles, most notably those sent by Mara the demon king, including Mara’s three daughters to tempt Siddhartha to trade his quest of enlightenment for the pleasures of the world. When Siddhartha averted Mara’s first challenge, Mara sent his armies to frighten the sage with death and destruction but this future Buddha was already intent on a form of destruction and was prepared to meet the challenge even in a more terrifying example. We all will pass through the gates of death, it is one of the things all life shares in common. Conscious beings are given the choice of how to meet it. Will we shout at the dying of the light? wimper at what could have been? or grin at what was and smile knowing what will be will be? Every time one takes an intentional practice of non-attachment there is an opportunity for a new self to arise, not restrained by the habits and instincts of the past. Tonight I’ll sit in meditation, tomorrow morning I’ll do the same, though this retreat is over, the practice will continue. Mostly, I’m practicing the art of remaining open and available at the moment. Winter is still upon us, but the sun is returning - I’ll exist with a foot in both the hibernation of winter and the anticipation of spring. Not being born an ascetic, right now, I’m excited to eat a big meal and enjoy at least some of the many pleasures of the world.
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Be well friends,
🙏❤️🧘
The following was shared several weeks ago with my Patreon, a page that consists of 2 esoteric writings each month, on spiritual topics that interest. Currently we are unpacking the Tarot which is being organized for an upcoming online course.