My mom and I stayed up until 1am talking last night. And my body was literally vibrating. From all the energy of the kiddos and being back in the craziness of the “real” world. And every time I tried to go to sleep, my brain went into movie mode and just started sprinting. So I did not sleep very well. But I actually wasn’t that tired this morning and driving back home wasn’t a problem.
The Boy was so sad to leave his Nana and Papa this morning, but also really excited to see his Dad. It was hard to see him struggle with that, especially since I was resisting coming home and it would have been much easier to just stay at my parents’ house for another couple of days. I guess that is one big benefit to having them live in the middle of nowhere.
Coming home was really hard. I tried to ground myself by doing very tangible things like unpacking, getting laundry ready, catching up on email, looking through mail. Just generally settling back in. But by the end of the evening I felt so toxic I was having a hard time breathing. I sat for a bit before trying to go to bed to see if that would help. And I think it centered me enough to be able to fall asleep, which is where I am now heading.
I know that part of the toxicity is my response to my environment and my mind going into drama mode. That my life is about to go upside down and I’m projecting drama and tension in anticipation of that transition. No matter how much peace or clarity I have around the changes that are coming, there is still a great deal of uncertainty surrounding how it is all going to look and pan out.
But fear only exists in the future. I know this to be true. I just have to remember it and allow it to ground me in the present moment. Even though big changes are coming, I have to remember that each of those changes consist of days, which consist of moments. And each moment is a gift.
Showing posts with label silent retreat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label silent retreat. Show all posts
3/30/09
3/28/09 - Going Home
Well this is it. Today we woke up at the usual time, did our energizing exercises and then sat in the closing circle. Had breakfast, stalled a whole bunch by chatting aimlessly and then finally filed out, got into our cars and started the trek home.
I found myself ready to go home, but just as nervous coming home as I was coming here. Nervous about re-entry. Nervous about the prospect of being overwhelmed and shutting back down after working my ass off for the past 5 days to open and trudge through all the crap I’ve stored up over the past many years.
But I am just going to stay rooted in the moment and keep breathing.
Here are some more notes from Joseph Goldstein’s talks:
Mental states, judgment, compassion, love etc arise in response to changing conditions – they do their job and they they’re gone. They are not “I.” If they really belonged to us then they would be amenable to our will – we would be able to command them. But they each only follow their own laws.
It’s always simpler to just feel the emotions or physical sensations then to struggle with them through denial or distraction. If there is an overabundance of tension or distraction do a check to see what’s there that you’re denying. Being in this place of denial also means you are not coming from a place of compassion.
Notice what happens when you are in a situation where someone is driving you crazy – how do you respond? Do lock down in tension and judgment? Or can you be aware of that person’s suffering and allow compassion to arise in response?
Ignorance is the cause of not letting in suffering, therefore shutting down compassion.
Satiating desire shores up our ability to close ourselves off to suffering on all levels – which also closes us off to compassion.
Happiness comes by letting it in rather than reaching for it.
Awareness allows us to transform ignorance into compassion.
When I get home I’m going to look up everything Joseph Goldstein has ever done and get my hands on it. I just love this guy.
I can’t wait to see my babies!!
I found myself ready to go home, but just as nervous coming home as I was coming here. Nervous about re-entry. Nervous about the prospect of being overwhelmed and shutting back down after working my ass off for the past 5 days to open and trudge through all the crap I’ve stored up over the past many years.
But I am just going to stay rooted in the moment and keep breathing.
Here are some more notes from Joseph Goldstein’s talks:
Mental states, judgment, compassion, love etc arise in response to changing conditions – they do their job and they they’re gone. They are not “I.” If they really belonged to us then they would be amenable to our will – we would be able to command them. But they each only follow their own laws.
It’s always simpler to just feel the emotions or physical sensations then to struggle with them through denial or distraction. If there is an overabundance of tension or distraction do a check to see what’s there that you’re denying. Being in this place of denial also means you are not coming from a place of compassion.
Notice what happens when you are in a situation where someone is driving you crazy – how do you respond? Do lock down in tension and judgment? Or can you be aware of that person’s suffering and allow compassion to arise in response?
Ignorance is the cause of not letting in suffering, therefore shutting down compassion.
Satiating desire shores up our ability to close ourselves off to suffering on all levels – which also closes us off to compassion.
Happiness comes by letting it in rather than reaching for it.
Awareness allows us to transform ignorance into compassion.
When I get home I’m going to look up everything Joseph Goldstein has ever done and get my hands on it. I just love this guy.
I can’t wait to see my babies!!
3/27/09 - Day Five
I really, really don’t like walking meditation. It’s the only part of the retreat that I tried once and then didn’t do again. I used the walking times as reflection times and time to myself. Both of which were needed and used well so I don’t feel too badly about it. But I still think it’s a little weird that that was the only thing that I totally flaked out on.
I can’t wait to start talking again tomorrow. I’m ready to be able to share a little with these people. At least share a laugh and be able to say bless you when they sneeze! And thank you. I don’t think I understood how important thank you is to me. I miss being able to say it when the mood or event strikes. And I get to see my babies tomorrow!
We’ve been listening to Joseph Goldstein for the evening discourse every night. And I just love him. He is so completely rooted in his humanity and the minute I hear his voice it’s just like wheels on gears clicking together.
Here are some of my notes from his talks:
“Nothing whatsoever is to be clung to.” – Buddha
Nothing lasts long enough to be called self. Clinging is a contraction – becomes a prison of self. The “I” is reborn whenever there is clinging. As soon as there is rebirth, there is suffering.
Pay attention to the mind’s state in between thoughts – those are moments of freedom in awareness.
Compassion if particularly directed at those in pain. Proximity to suffering is the primary cause of compassion.
Every response is a two-sided coin. The other side of the coin to compassion is pity. When we hold suffering as an individual problem, the response is one of pity. When we can allow ourselves to understand that suffering is universal then compassion arises.
“In the cherry blossom’s shade, there is no such thing as a stranger.” Iza (sp?) Japanese poet
I had this image today during Shivassana that I was floating in water with the Buddha’s great huge hands underneath me – not touching, but always there protecting me. In case I should need them. It was pretty cool.
I can’t wait to start talking again tomorrow. I’m ready to be able to share a little with these people. At least share a laugh and be able to say bless you when they sneeze! And thank you. I don’t think I understood how important thank you is to me. I miss being able to say it when the mood or event strikes. And I get to see my babies tomorrow!
We’ve been listening to Joseph Goldstein for the evening discourse every night. And I just love him. He is so completely rooted in his humanity and the minute I hear his voice it’s just like wheels on gears clicking together.
Here are some of my notes from his talks:
“Nothing whatsoever is to be clung to.” – Buddha
Nothing lasts long enough to be called self. Clinging is a contraction – becomes a prison of self. The “I” is reborn whenever there is clinging. As soon as there is rebirth, there is suffering.
Pay attention to the mind’s state in between thoughts – those are moments of freedom in awareness.
Compassion if particularly directed at those in pain. Proximity to suffering is the primary cause of compassion.
Every response is a two-sided coin. The other side of the coin to compassion is pity. When we hold suffering as an individual problem, the response is one of pity. When we can allow ourselves to understand that suffering is universal then compassion arises.
“In the cherry blossom’s shade, there is no such thing as a stranger.” Iza (sp?) Japanese poet
I had this image today during Shivassana that I was floating in water with the Buddha’s great huge hands underneath me – not touching, but always there protecting me. In case I should need them. It was pretty cool.
3/26/09 - Day Four
Today was a bit easier to get through. Although I think I’m getting sick again.
When I was preparing to come here I couldn’t wait to get away from my life. To have space and time to just be. And ever since I got here all I want to do is go home. And not just because I’m uncomfortable and this is hard. I miss my babies something fierce. But I always am exactly where I am supposed to be.
I had an image float across my mind this morning of me as a little kid. I was smiling the most glorious smile and it was surrounded by yellow light that was coming from my heart center. Then the image went into warp fashion and I watched that light get covered by layers and layers of fear, sorrow, anger and self-preservation.
The light is still there – at my center. It’s just been covered up by all of this illusion that I’ve bought into and claimed as my identity.
But at my core is pure, unadulterated joy and peace. That was a pretty cool realization because I’ve been thinking that light went out and I’ve been trying to figure out how to re-ignite it. But really I just have to stop believing in the illusion.
So. Letting go. I think I realized there was a part of me that couldn’t let go of my attachments to people because my mind told me that would mean not loving them anymore. That to let them go would be sending them out of my life. That is so wrong. I think letting go of my attachments simply means that I am free to love them where we are. Not based on my attachment to them. That’s actually really cool and gives me so much more leeway to just love unconditionally instead of needing something from them.
So I become free to love my kids simply because I love them, not because I need them to make me feel like the world’s best mother or that I’m needed above all else.
Without attachments I become free to meet people where I am and love thoroughly.
How cool is all that?!?
When I was preparing to come here I couldn’t wait to get away from my life. To have space and time to just be. And ever since I got here all I want to do is go home. And not just because I’m uncomfortable and this is hard. I miss my babies something fierce. But I always am exactly where I am supposed to be.
I had an image float across my mind this morning of me as a little kid. I was smiling the most glorious smile and it was surrounded by yellow light that was coming from my heart center. Then the image went into warp fashion and I watched that light get covered by layers and layers of fear, sorrow, anger and self-preservation.
The light is still there – at my center. It’s just been covered up by all of this illusion that I’ve bought into and claimed as my identity.
But at my core is pure, unadulterated joy and peace. That was a pretty cool realization because I’ve been thinking that light went out and I’ve been trying to figure out how to re-ignite it. But really I just have to stop believing in the illusion.
So. Letting go. I think I realized there was a part of me that couldn’t let go of my attachments to people because my mind told me that would mean not loving them anymore. That to let them go would be sending them out of my life. That is so wrong. I think letting go of my attachments simply means that I am free to love them where we are. Not based on my attachment to them. That’s actually really cool and gives me so much more leeway to just love unconditionally instead of needing something from them.
So I become free to love my kids simply because I love them, not because I need them to make me feel like the world’s best mother or that I’m needed above all else.
Without attachments I become free to meet people where I am and love thoroughly.
How cool is all that?!?
3/25/09 - Day Three
“All are brushstrokes of the mind.” – Joseph Goldstein
In other words, we all make shit up all the time. We imagine so many things and then project them onto our inspiration. Also? My practice is my practice. I don’t need approval from anyone else, nor should I look for or expect it. I discovered today that much, much greater focus comes when I sit with my legs crossed in front of me instead of behind me sitting on a meditation bench or cushion. And I also am able to focus more with my eyes open instead of closed. I guess meditating with your eyes open is very in line with Zen tradition (zazen) and a specific branch of Tibetan Buddhism – I can’t remember the name right now though.
We listened to a discourse tonight that just really clicked with me. He was talking about fear and how one of the most paralyzing things we do to ourselves is to fear fear. If we can just allow ourselves to sit with it, be with it, it will most often just disappear all on its own.
Fear of not being good enough causes us to cling to the people we love and then we look to them to be the saviors of our self esteem. We need them to build us back up where we ourselves have torn ourselves down. That is a relationship built on fear.
Fear can only exist in the future. It cannot exist in the present. When there is fear it is because we have projected ourselves into the future. Fear of what will or won’t happen. Fear of who we will or won’t meet or connect with. Fear of whether we will or won’t succeed. Fear of some past this or that coming up at the most inopportune time. You name it and the mind will run freely with it.
If we can bring ourselves back to the present, we will find that there is only joy in being. The fear has evaporated. If we can exist moment to moment with ourselves, exactly where we are, there is nothing to fear and the mind is open to the journey. What a blessing!
In other words, we all make shit up all the time. We imagine so many things and then project them onto our inspiration. Also? My practice is my practice. I don’t need approval from anyone else, nor should I look for or expect it. I discovered today that much, much greater focus comes when I sit with my legs crossed in front of me instead of behind me sitting on a meditation bench or cushion. And I also am able to focus more with my eyes open instead of closed. I guess meditating with your eyes open is very in line with Zen tradition (zazen) and a specific branch of Tibetan Buddhism – I can’t remember the name right now though.
We listened to a discourse tonight that just really clicked with me. He was talking about fear and how one of the most paralyzing things we do to ourselves is to fear fear. If we can just allow ourselves to sit with it, be with it, it will most often just disappear all on its own.
Fear of not being good enough causes us to cling to the people we love and then we look to them to be the saviors of our self esteem. We need them to build us back up where we ourselves have torn ourselves down. That is a relationship built on fear.
Fear can only exist in the future. It cannot exist in the present. When there is fear it is because we have projected ourselves into the future. Fear of what will or won’t happen. Fear of who we will or won’t meet or connect with. Fear of whether we will or won’t succeed. Fear of some past this or that coming up at the most inopportune time. You name it and the mind will run freely with it.
If we can bring ourselves back to the present, we will find that there is only joy in being. The fear has evaporated. If we can exist moment to moment with ourselves, exactly where we are, there is nothing to fear and the mind is open to the journey. What a blessing!
3/24/09 - Day Two
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I have a major, holy crap kind of headache. My mom warned me about this, but I really didn’t think it would be a big deal since I only drink one cup of coffee a day most days. And I am beyond exhausted since I did not sleep at all last night. I was rolling around my bed almost as fast as my brain was running circles around itself. Filled with projections about what was to come.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
The day is scheduled down to the minute from the 5:30am wake up bell to the last sitting meditation of the day at 9:15pm. There’s an hour and fifteen minutes of yoga every morning after two sitting and one walking meditations. The afternoon is pretty much just alternating sitting and walking every hour until dinner at 5pm and then the evening is more sitting and more walking. I thought maybe I’d have more time to myself.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I really thought for some reason that I would just be able to pick up where I left off after the huge New Year’s epiphanies. That I would be able to come to this safe and sacred place and just be. But this day has been really hard. There is so much resistance in me. To the yoga, to the focus, to the being. Just resistance.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I collapsed into pose of the child sobbing halfway through the yoga class this morning. All I want to do is hide in my room. Every time I sit I fidget and twitch and my mind makes up things to ramble on and on about. I want a cigarette. Not because I need one, but because I want to do something rebellious. I just remembered that I have a Milky Way bar in my purse. Score!!
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
Everyone around me is so still. And their minds are seemingly so much more disciplined and obedient than mine. I’m letting my mom down. I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve to be here.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I have a major, holy crap kind of headache. My mom warned me about this, but I really didn’t think it would be a big deal since I only drink one cup of coffee a day most days. And I am beyond exhausted since I did not sleep at all last night. I was rolling around my bed almost as fast as my brain was running circles around itself. Filled with projections about what was to come.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
The day is scheduled down to the minute from the 5:30am wake up bell to the last sitting meditation of the day at 9:15pm. There’s an hour and fifteen minutes of yoga every morning after two sitting and one walking meditations. The afternoon is pretty much just alternating sitting and walking every hour until dinner at 5pm and then the evening is more sitting and more walking. I thought maybe I’d have more time to myself.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I really thought for some reason that I would just be able to pick up where I left off after the huge New Year’s epiphanies. That I would be able to come to this safe and sacred place and just be. But this day has been really hard. There is so much resistance in me. To the yoga, to the focus, to the being. Just resistance.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I collapsed into pose of the child sobbing halfway through the yoga class this morning. All I want to do is hide in my room. Every time I sit I fidget and twitch and my mind makes up things to ramble on and on about. I want a cigarette. Not because I need one, but because I want to do something rebellious. I just remembered that I have a Milky Way bar in my purse. Score!!
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
Everyone around me is so still. And their minds are seemingly so much more disciplined and obedient than mine. I’m letting my mom down. I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve to be here.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
3/23/09 - Day One
I splurged and got U2’s new album before I left for the retreat. And then I proceeded to listen to it the entire way to The Last Resort in Utah. Keep in mind that it’s a seven hour drive from my parents’ house, so I listened to it back to back about 8 times or so. And I’m totally in love with it. It’s almost as if the entire CD was written for exactly where I am right now. And even if I couldn’t relate to it at all, it’s just such a good album on its own merits.
And now I’m here at the retreat. There is an interesting mix of people here, although it’s not like I have a wealth of experience from which to draw for what “normal” is. There is one other woman who has never done a silent retreat either, so that helps a bit with the nerves. We agreed to figure out together how to ask someone to pass the salt, in silence.
But I am still nervous and feel very strange. I’m sitting right now in my room and I’m so totally grateful that I got a single room. There are only two of them here, the other 4 are shared, double rooms with bunk beds. Which would have posed two problems for me. I’m an only child and typically don’t play well with others in a roommate situation. And if I were the second person to get into my shared room and had to sleep on the top bunk, well given my fear of heights, that would pose a very, very large problem indeed.
The silence will officially start tomorrow morning. We were able to chat this evening over dinner and afterwards so I was able to get to know everyone just a little. It turns out that about half of the people know my mom and have been in retreats with her before. So we mostly talked about her and how she’s doing. Which was a little odd. Almost as if I was starting off the retreat as her daughter instead of just me.
Anyway, I’m just babbling now. Rambling on, my mind just running to run.
And now I’m here at the retreat. There is an interesting mix of people here, although it’s not like I have a wealth of experience from which to draw for what “normal” is. There is one other woman who has never done a silent retreat either, so that helps a bit with the nerves. We agreed to figure out together how to ask someone to pass the salt, in silence.
But I am still nervous and feel very strange. I’m sitting right now in my room and I’m so totally grateful that I got a single room. There are only two of them here, the other 4 are shared, double rooms with bunk beds. Which would have posed two problems for me. I’m an only child and typically don’t play well with others in a roommate situation. And if I were the second person to get into my shared room and had to sleep on the top bunk, well given my fear of heights, that would pose a very, very large problem indeed.
The silence will officially start tomorrow morning. We were able to chat this evening over dinner and afterwards so I was able to get to know everyone just a little. It turns out that about half of the people know my mom and have been in retreats with her before. So we mostly talked about her and how she’s doing. Which was a little odd. Almost as if I was starting off the retreat as her daughter instead of just me.
Anyway, I’m just babbling now. Rambling on, my mind just running to run.