Stop

I had a rough time in Japan, but there is one thing that I do miss. Awareness.

We live in a culture of rush. It’s glorified, especially here in New England. Trying to make plans with someone inevitably becomes an argument about whose schedule is busier because for some reason, being busy equates to being accomplished..

Kyoto was not a particularly happy place for me. We had curfews and restrictions, lots of restrictions, especially at the monastery. A lot of that had to do with trying to diminish our thinking, decreasing our choices, forcing us to do rather than spending every moment anticipating the future. It was hard, but it worked.

But my favorite part of Kyoto? Every night at 8:00, I set out on my nightly walk. I finished all my work in anticipation of my nightly walk. Then I would set out, headphones in. 20 minutes to the river. Just me and myself. Once I got there, a thirty minute walking meditation. And finally, I would pick my favorite rock, sit, and just watch the Kamo River in all its glory. The lights, the city, the water. Then I would stroll home just in time for 10:00 curfew.

I miss it. And its not like I couldn’t do it here. But, I keep telling myself that there isn’t any time to stop. That I have to keep going even though I know its not really true.

Taking time for yourself isn’t a waste of time. In fact, its probably the most productive use of your time. Those are the moments when you are literally living. You don’t even have to be straight up meditating. Just being aware of where you are, not just physically, but in life. Being aware of the people around you, people with just as many feelings and emotions and experiences as you. There’s this unspoken belief that we don’t want to waste our life and in order to accomplish that, we have to do as much as possible in as little time as possible. We have to avoid failure. I am just as guilty in going along with these sentiments, but lately, I’m trying just a little bit harder not to. I personally believe that we are just passing through. Its okay to take life little less seriously.

Look up.

The river from Gojo Dori

The river from Gojo Dori


The river at night

The river at night

Advertisements

Want

I’ve been thinking about desire a lot lately. Mostly because I have a whole freaking lot of it. I want my skin to get better. I want my own room. I want a real bed. I want to go home. I want to be happy. And these are only the big ones. Other moments are filled with other miniscule desires and cravings that for some reason my mind believes will make me satisfied, happy. I want chocolate. I want the bell to ring (during zazen). I want to not have to write this paper.

The problem is that I can want as many things as I want but (1) that doesn’t mean I’ll get them, and (2) if I do get them, I still won’t be happy. It’s similar to meditating for the purpose of achieving enlightenment. Here is an anecdote that I read last night in preparation for one of the papers that I didn’t want to write. It comes from the traditional biography of Chan Master Nanyue Huirang:

During the Kaiyuanera [713-742] there was a monk named Daoyi (that is, the great teacher Mazu) who resided at the Chuanfa Cloister and spent every day sitting in dhyāna (C.zuochan, J.zazen 坐禪). The master [Huairang] knew that he was a vessel of the dharma, so he went to him and asked,“What do you intend to accomplish by sitting in dhyāna?” Daoyi replied,“I intend to make myself into a buddha.” The master picked up a tile and rubbed it on a stone in front of the hermitage. Daoyi inquired,“Master, what are you doing?” The master said,“I am polishing it to make a mirror.” Daoyi said, “How could you sitting in dhyāna ever result in becoming a buddha?” Daoyi asked, “How is it done, then?” The master said, “It is like a man driving a cart that does not move: should he strike the cart to get it to go, or should he strike the ox?” Daoyi had no response. (Foulk 25)*

In this case, “striking the ox” is to sit with the understanding that there is no such thing as awakening rather than to sit with the desire of gaining awakening. Now this isn’t a perfect analogy and I don’t claim to be an enlightened philosopher, but I have recently been coming to the realization that achieving my desires will not produce happiness… so why not let go of desire? To be quite honest, its something that has kept me from living in the present because of all the potential I invest in the future. I don’t mean letting go of dreams and ambitions, because goals are something that keep us going and give our lives purpose. I mean letting go of those silly little superficial wants that we have no control over.

By no means is this an easy task. I was actually thinking about my experience at Toshoji and one of the things that made it so difficult was the fact that the entire time we had no control. It was very much about doing things that you didn’t want to do at times that you didn’t want to do them. But in a way, it made things easier because it became so clear to me that I had no control and I had to just let things be.

Anyways, this morning at zazen, I sat and meditated. I didn’t sit with the hope that the bell would ring soon and I didn’t sit thinking about what I wanted for breakfast. Sure there were moments when my mind would begin to wander here and there, but this morning I sat with the focus of being in the moment. It was probably one of the best zazens I’ve had on this trip besides my time at Toshoji. I think from now on, I’m going to focus on letting go of the things I can’t control, accepting that I can’t control them, and instead choosing to focus on the moment.

*Foulk, T. Griffith. Standard Observances of the Soto Zen School. Tokyo: Sotoshu Shumucho, 2010.

Searching for Happy

On Monday, we arrived back in Kyoto after a six day monastic retreat at the Toshoji Soto Zen Monastery in Okayama. It was an incredible experience but also one of the most challenging weeks I have ever had. Here are some tidbits from my experience.

On our first full day at the monastery, I was sitting in our first zazen of the day (at 4:30 in the morning). It had been a bit of a rough night and my anxiety levels were fairly high. Suddenly, I felt this cramp in my side and here are the thoughts that took place probably within the span of three minutes: My side really hurts. I must have appendicitis. We’re going to be in zazen for the next hour and a half. I’m in a monastery on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. I’m probably going to die before this is over. (In case you haven’t picked up on it, I’m a very paranoid person)

Anyway, I realized that what I really wanted at that very moment was to be back at home in my room snuggled up by myself. I wanted to be at home with my parents cooking downstairs, so I could hear the sizzle of the stove and smell the food and hear the chatter of my mom trying to talk over the commotion in kitchen.

So there you have it. My apparent dying wish.

After a while I actually managed to calm down and although I didn’t exactly meditate for that zazen period, I did a lot of thinking and it came to me that this was a really surprising desire. I’ve spent a long time trying to get as far away from my family as possible. There was a point in my life when I had started to associate being at home with stress, tears, and anxiety. But it’s also the place that has always been there for me to come back to no matter what and that’s something that I hadn’t fully realized.

A lot of my blog posts have revolved around my search for happiness, something that I’ve always found to be quite elusive. And over the past year, I’ve searched high and low for this, but I haven’t quite found it. And I’m starting to think that maybe I didn’t have to look so hard.

And that’s a thought that kept coming back to me over and over this past week.

Let me tell you something about eating in a zen monastery. It is probably most stressful meal you will ever have in your entire life. Oryoki is no joke. Here is a website with some instructions, but because it will probably take an hour to read all of them, here’s a summary. You are given a set of four bowls and a bunch of cloths and utensils. The meal begins with chanting, laying out your set in a very specific order, more chanting, a very complicated serving process, and more chanting. Then you are given what I’m guessing is about eight minutes to eat before everyone else is done and you have thirty people very intimidating faces and an abbott staring you down (I’m fairly certain monks inhale their food). Seconds are served and then eating resumes for about another five minutes. Depending on the meal your bowls are cleaned a slightly different way, but typically, tea is served in your bowls and you drink it to wash down the food. Then the boiling water is poured and you use a utensil called a setsu to wash down the rest of the bowls. You drink everything that is in your bowls and then put your set away in yet another complicated ritual.

I bring this up mostly because the eating process caused me a lot of grief at the monaster,y and I need to complain about it (If you are a slow eater you basically end up starving). But the first night we returned to Kyoto, we ended up going to a restaurant that we had previously frequented quite regularly. This time though, we ended up sitting there for an hour and a half, taking our time and savoring every bite. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a wonderful meal.

If I wanted to wrap this post up with a bow, I could conclude that while at the monastery, I also reached enlightenment. But to be quite honest, I spent half of our zazens not meditating. The experience did mean something though. Being out of your comfort zone isn’t just to help you grow. It’s also to help you gain perspective. Even helping you see what is literally in front of you. Maybe my happy is sitting right in front me, but I just can’t see it.

Being so far from home, especially right now, is really hard for a whole host of reasons. Over the past few weeks I’ve had some really ugly thoughts bubble up that I haven’t even seen since high school. But now I think I’m on the path to getting grounded again. I’ve caught a glimpse of the happy and even just knowing its out there is good enough for me.

IMG_0023.JPG

My throne of enlightenment

IMG_0022.JPG

So ready for oryoki dinner

Would you ever talk to other people the way you talk to yourself?

Hate is a strong word.

Love is different. People use it in every other sentence without a second thought, describing friends, enemies, and foods alike. But hate. There’s a heaviness to the sound of the word. A bitterness that is revealed as soon as its said out loud. It’s something that’s nearly impossible to take back because when you use it, you’ve got to really mean it.

It’s sad that the way it comes up most commonly is in reference to self-hate. To be perfectly honest, I hear it most when I say it to myself. And its just so not okay. Because I hear other people say it to themselves all the time as they describe all their faults. And I look at them and I wish that they could see all the beauty that I see. And I tell them how beautiful they are, but each and every time, I am met with a sense of disbelief. It’s happened to me more times than I can count. It makes me wonder if anyone is truly satisfied with themselves. It makes me think that self-hate is so much more common than self-love when it really should be the other way around.

The title of my blog is discoveringmetta. Lovingkindness. In metta practice, one often starts the meditation with metta toward themselves, and then shifts gradually toward friends, neutral companions, and finally enemies. But sometimes, the hardest person to work with is the self. I feel like working with myself is something I’ve been avoiding this year. And that maybe its time I started facing up to it.

Because I really respect people who love themselves. I don’t see it as arrogance, just a really great attitude. These are the people that are willing to take the fullest advantage of the life that they were given and that’s the kind of person that I want to be. To be quite honest, I’m not really sure where to start.

I do know that I would never talk to other people the way I talk to myself. And that’s just not okay at all. Maybe I’ll start with that.

On Meditation (Aka My Healing Process)

I have just returned from retreat at the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center and I have to say it could not have come at a better time. I have been on spring break this past week, but my mind has certainly not been at rest. Since my retreat at IMS, my practice has faltered a bit, but this was a great refresher and has also given me some perspective on my practice since I have had some time to reflect on my experience at IMS, but it was also a much shorter retreat and had a different feel to it. From my experiences, I have compiled a list of some “stuff” that has really been working for me lately.

1. Samadhi (Concentration Meditation)
This is the first type of meditation I was taught. In this meditation, you pick a point of focus, typically the breath or your sitting points (ie your booty), and you keep your mind focused on this point for the duration of your meditation. When (not if) your mind becomes distracted, you simply notice it and return to your point of attention. I began my practice focusing on the tip of my nose because it was simple and I could feel a physical sensation for my inhales and exhales. Another form of this meditation that I have started to turn to is listening meditation, in which you become aware of the sounds around you and choose those as your point of attention. Even something as annoying as a car horn for the screeching of the train on the tracks becomes another point of awareness. Because a lot of my anxiety arises from concerns about my physical health, a lot of these issues arise when I focus on a body part (ie I constantly think I’m having a heart attack). By focusing on an external stimuli, I have been able to remain more focused on my object of attention. I have noticed that through this practice, my attention and concentration in other parts of my life, such as focusing in class or even just holding a conversation, has drastically improved.

2. Vipassana (Insight Meditation)
I have less experience with vipassana, but in the small amount of insight meditation I have done, its benefits have proved to be numerous, as this is the meditation that most yogis strive for (concentration meditation is a stepping stone toward this). It is an opening up of the concentration meditation, where instead of concentrating on a simple point of attention, one becomes open to all experience and sensations, all without judgment. When a moment of anxiety or worry arises, one simply notices and explores the sensations if he or she wishes. The intention of the meditation is not to leave a person devoid of emotion, but simply to allow people to become aware of their bodily states and perceptions so that they cause less suffering for the yogi because he or she has learned how to control them. On the T on the way home today, I started to have some migraine symptoms from having woken up at 7 in the morning and having eaten nothing but soup and bread the entire day. I had been practicing listening meditation because being on the T is a bit of an overwhelming experience. When I noticed that my head started to hurt, I shifted my awareness to the point where the pain began and became aware of the sensation. I then noticed that I was growing anxious because I hate getting migraines and I noticed that my heart was starting to feel tight. Then I realized that these were only sensations and sensations are temporary. My heart began calming down and the tension in my head drew its course and disappeared.

3. Metta (Loving-kindness Meditation)
Although its the title of my blog, I haven’t talked about metta very much. It is essentially a meditation mantra full of love and goodwill that one expresses toward oneself, then moves on to family and friends, neutral individuals, and finally their enemies. These phrases are as simple as “May I be well. May you be happy. May we all be at peace.” The idea is to start with the person it would be easiest to wish these intentions upon, even if it is not yourself, and gradually shift toward people who you may believe don’t even deserve these thoughts. Our instructor today, Michael Grady, said that he used the phrase, “May I be at ease” whenever he was feeling anxious. Its not a bad thing to have in your pocket to use on a bad or even a neutral day and the more you practice it, the more effect it will have. This is something I have not done often and I still have trouble doing (especially with myself), but I continue to strive toward it.

The chant that I originally learned on retreat at IMS can be found here in original Pali (the language of the Buddha) and in English along with a recording of the chant. I just randomly googled this, but it appears this person also first heard the chant at IMS!

May we all be happy and healthy 🙂

 

I don’t even know where to begin…

So this is one of those things that I’ve always wanted to do, that I promised myself I would do when I had the time. Somehow, I simply never had the time. So I’ve decided to just do it. To start a blog. Not that this is bad timing anyway, seeing as I’ve just gotten back on campus for winter study and I now have a month of winter study to keep me as unoccupied as possible. No excuses this time Maggie. I’ll be honest, the reason it took me so long to get started was because one of those things that I struggle with along with many other people is a need for perfection. A need to have the perfect blog, with perfect posts, and loads of likes (or however things work on here). I even panicked over which website to use to write this. But here I am, streamlining my thoughts, and I’ll admit its pretty fun. And I’m starting not to care about the other things so much.

Which brings me to the other reason I finally got the courage to start writing. I recently went on a five-day retreat at the Insight Meditation Society (IMS) in Barre, MA where we essentially put our life on hold (technology, reading, writing, talking) and attempted to discover a little bit of ourselves by following a simple 5:00 AM to 10:00 PM schedule alternating 45 minute intervals of sitting meditations, walking meditations, and small meals. I’ll be honest, by day 3 I was going a little crazy. I knew that with each meditation I was improving my concentration and starting to realize a little bit more about myself, but I wanted to be perfect and I wanted it to happen right away. The instructors tried to emphasize that we be kind to ourselves, but it was something that I had some serious trouble doing. On day 3, we had a group interview with one of our teachers, Pat Coffey (one of the only times we were allowed to break the silence) and one of the yogis in our group brought up that as he was meditation last night, he realized that every meditation didn’t have to bring enlightenment as long it brings even the slightest improvement to oneself, which it no doubt did. This is one among the many points I’ve learned at IMS, to be give yourself  a little bit of lovingkindness (metta) and to take moments throughout the day to be just a little more self-aware.

Through my writings, I hope to document any discoveries I find or that I am exploring. I’m not expecting to achieve enlightenment in any way, but I’m hoping to find a way to live my life as best I can.

If you actually got through this long-winded ramble, thank you for lending an ear.

If anyone has any interest in going on a retreat (i recommend not starting with five days as you might get a little crazy as I did), IMS is probably the most respected retreat center in the US and people literally fly in from all corners of the country to attend so the spots go pretty quickly. The cost is also pretty steep, but for people aged 18-26, there is an option to choose your own cost for certain marked retreats. The young adult retreat in the summer comes highly recommended to me. Here is the 2014 schedule: http://www.dharma.org/meditation-retreats/retreat-center/retreat-center-schedule Please contact me if you have any questions.

Metta.