First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!
Now that I have that out of the way, it is time to reflect on the meditation retreat that did not (fully) happen.
Before going on a mediation retreat 2+ hours from my home yesterday afternoon, my emotions were a mixture of excitement at the possibilities and foreboding of difficulties which can be encountered mentally and physically. At no point did I imagine that I might be disappointed with the retreat, but upon arriving I realised relatively quickly that such was a case.
I packed up my car with gear for two days: sleeping bag, torch, pillow, meditation cushion, etc. It was getting close now. I got into my wee car, ready for the trip, and was quite sad at having to wave goodbye to my wife and son for the weekend. Normally, my son and I spend Saturday nights having “Sci-fi”, which translates to watching two episodes of Star Trek (or similar) and having brownies or lollies. This Saturday night (which will be upon us as soon as I finish this journal entry) is doubly special because it is also my birthday. So, rather than Sci-fi, birthday celebrations and the Rugby match on Sunday (for which we had already bought tickets), I decided that it would be worthwhile to spend the weekend honing my meditation practice, both for the advantages to myself and the possible advantages that I could bring to my counselling clients, through the addition of Mindfulness-based therapy offerings.
As I departed beautiful Banks Peninsula for the Southern Alps, I was full of hope. I watched the sun going down over the mountains and imagined that perhaps this would be one of those events in my life that I would look back on with appreciation. I looked at the stunning scenery around me, as if for the first time. It got dark not long after I left home and I hate driving at night. Add to this that I was driving to a place with only the rudimentary printout provided by the organisation in charge of the retreat and I was dubious of being able to get there on time.
I drove for an hour and a half and then began the steep and windy ascent into the Southern Alps, headed towards the rugged West Coast of the South Island, via Arthur’s Pass. After driving about another thirty minutes, I somehow managed to see a sign in the dark for “Mt. Cheeseman” and turned up a very poorly maintained gravel road. After driving about 10 minutes on this windy road into the mountains, I wondered if this was actually the correct path. New Zealanders aren’t known to be terribly precise and the politeness or general consideration of putting up marker signs like “x metres this way” are rarely considered. I decided to continue on my trek into the mountains in my wee Toyota (not made for such travel). I briefly thought to myself that it would have been good if the organisers had mentioned a long drive on an unsealed road was required, but quickly reminded myself that such thoughtfulness is not to be expected.
I finally made it to the cabin and walked in to find the participants around tables eating. Of course a greeting would have been good, but instead I was asked if I was ready to pay for the weekend (thank you very much). After settling my account, I was offered the evening meal. The PDF I was sent about the retreat mentioned “delicious vegetarian” meals, but I was given what appeared to be school cafeteria nachos – of the vegetarian variety. Although I had a substantial appetite, I stopped after the first portion of this dish. It was an extreme disappointment after the delicious food that was suggested in the brochure. Continuing with the discussion of food, boxes of cereal were put out for the morning. The cuisine was certainly not what was promoted.
From 8PM to 9PM, we were to have a meditation session. Despite my impressions so far, I was excited at the prospect. The facilities provided for group meditation were smaller than my lounge room at home and this small space was to contain 20+ participants. I have been to meditation gatherings before and have never encountered such cramped environs. I ended up sitting next to a wall, without any room to get comfortable in the least, with people close on each side (right, behind and in front). The wall heater was blazing, so soon not only was this a very cramped space, but also a very hot one. I was down to my t-shirt and still felt like I would pass out.
In arrived the nun who seemed to be facilitating the meditation retreat. My biggest disappointment was to come. She began to ramble on in no precise fashion or structure. I have come to expect this at many gatherings in NZ (a Kiwi mate of mine refers to this lack of preparation as “amateurism common in NZ”). This nun spoke of “pure beings”, “thoughts coming from the heart” and similar rubbish and despite my continuing attempts to keep an open mind, I realised that this environment was not for me. I can handle metaphor, parables and similar – I have a background and degree in Theology, after all. What I cannot abide, however, is a general lack of intellectual development. I found myself evaluating the speech of this nun according to my own understanding of the Buddha’s teachings and found myself thinking that perhaps I would be better leading this retreat. From what we know of the Buddha, he was arguably an intelligent individual and I have made some effort to integrate aspects of Buddhist philosophy/psychology into my own existence and counselling practice. Sadly, though, as Buddha’s teaching travelled throughout the East, his teachings were mingled with the mysticism and other religious beliefs of the largely uneducated native populations. This has produced a variety of “Buddhisms”, most of which would hardly be appealing to an educated and modern individual. I cannot, for example, take stock in the primitive notion that thoughts originate in the muscle of the heart (a common primitive belief), rather than in the neurons of the brain. If Buddhism is ever to take significant hold in the Western world, it will have to return to its most basic teachings of the Four Noble Truths considered in the light of reason. After great minds like David Hume, we cannot go back to our caves and believe in reflections on walls.
So, bedtime arrived and I found myself extremely disappointed.
The Buddha taught that the truth is inside of each of us. Ultimately, we must look within for the answers. I realised that my years of exploration – in Philosophy, Buddhism and other areas – meant that this retreat had nothing to offer me. I got out of my bunk, packed up my car in the darkness and headed down the windy road back to home. As I drove slowly in the dark, leaving behind the retreat, I remembered the words of the Buddha:
“If a traveler does not meet with one who is better or equal, let one firmly travel alone; there is no companionship with a fool.” (The Dhammapada, http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Dhammapada)