The vipassana meditation technique: a ten day course
The first day is begun in noble silence; no speech, no eye contact, no touching. I arrive at the course the day before, for registration. We are assigned to small, shared cabins situated within walking distance from a meditation hall where we gather to practice for hours each day. The initial practice is to sit in a comfortable position (usually on a pillow with crossed legs) and close your eyes. Breathe through the nose and be aware of each breath. Be aware of the breath coming in and going out, note which nostril it passes through; left, right, or both simultaneously. When the mind wonders, gently bring it back to the concentrated awareness of the breath. Don't regulate the breath, just observe the natural breathing pattern.
I practice zazen (another form of Buddhist meditation) so I expected the vipassana technique to be relativly easy to master. Both forms of meditation are founded in the dharma, both teach enlightenment. But zazen is open-eyes meditation, and vipassana is closed-eyes. The rationale is that having open eyes can be distracting to the meditator, but I passed the visual hurdle ages ago in my practice. With my eyes closed, on the other hand, I resort to agitated monkey mind. The inside of my head is infinitely distracting. I spent the day concentrating hard to focus on the natural breath (turns out I'm a control freak when it comes to breathing - as soon as I am aware of my breath I begin regulating it.) The technique calls for one to focus on the natural breath, the breath the body breathes without conscious intent. That way we become slowly aware of the subtler sensations, and we begin to fine tune our perceptions.
On the second day the practice deepens a little. The next technique taught is to be aware of the touch of the breath, in the triangular space between your upper lip and the bridge of your nose, and the inner and outer walls of the nostrils. I spent that day patiently focusing my awareness of the feeling of the air as it passed into each nostril, and the feeling of it being exhaled again. I was particularly distracted by my posture and my aching limbs. Sitting on a pillow for many, many hours has it's toll on the body. I was shifting positions constantly but still diligently trying to maintain the focus on feeling the touch of the breath.
Third day: the practice is to be aware of any sensation at all which occurs in the triangular space between your upper lip and the bridge of your nose, and on the inner/outer walls of the nostrils. The subtler the sensation the better. Itches, tickles, throbbing, moisture, heat, cold, numbness...any sensation at all, but only in the little area around and inside the nose. This way mind is focusing on ever subtler perceptions, being fine tuned to a point of high sensitivity. We still maintain noble silence. All other sensation from the rest of the body must be ignored.
Day four, we finally get to the nitty gritty of vipassana. Up until then we had been practising anapana, which is the fore-runner for the full vipassana technique. But of course I wasn't there to learn it, having left sobbing on day three. More of that later, back to the technique. (I looked up the next step on the internet when I got home, and then carried on the meditation sessions in my study.) After three days of intense, continual focus on ever subtler sensation, living and eating in silence, my senses are heightnened, despite the emotional trip home from the meditation center. The technique is now to be aware of the body, starting from one tip and traveling to the other, and then back again. The same high awareness that has been generated in the nasal area now travels slowly through the body, and while practising this I felt the sensations of the internal organs - very strange. The awareness seemed to travel in a ball, about the size of the area of the initial triangle of awareness. I think its called body scanning.
So that's the practical aspect of the meditation, all fine and dandy. What wasn't so dandy at all was the emotional aspect. During my zen practise I often find that emotional issues rise to the surface of my consciousness. As the mind quietens, so the inner thoughts and feelings become easier to percieve. But I have never sat for that long before, and I was completely unprepared for the emotional breakthroughs. Due to my marijuana use, psychedelic explorations, and daily zazen practice, I am already particularly sensitive. So sitting in such a pristine and encouraging environment, for such long periods of time, was a highly potent recipe for major emotional upheaval.
By the end of the first day I had realized that I'd never really processed my parents divorce. The little six year old who watched her family disintegrate is suddenly right there. I cry quietly on the way to the the dormitory, disturbing the other meditators is taboo at a meditation retreat. I carry on the meditation practice and I gain emotional equilibrium again, the going becomes easier for a while.
The second day I spent physically uncomfortable, and also a little bored with all the nose focus. My mind raced through plans and aspirations, and I stated clearly to myself all the things I want to achieve, imagining them vividly over the hours I sat. I still followed my breath, trying to focus on the touch of the air, but as my mind wondered I let it, not feeling too guilty if 5 or ten minutes slipped by in happy constructive planning.
On the third day, as I lay in my cabin, flat on my back and breathing deeply, the pain I still carry from my abortion hit me like a mental sledgehammer. This is an issue that I know I haven't processed properly, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise. I think it was the intensity of the emotion which threw me completely off balance.
I had spent 3 days in almost solitude, without any recourse to my usual processing tools (talking, writing, making art, making music). I desperately wanted to be home, with people who loved me, I didn't want to experience all these emotions alone. On the afternoon of the third day I requested a private interview with the teacher, and in tears I told him that I wanted to leave. He was adamant that I 'weather out the emotional storm' at the retreat centre. He advised me that if I could just keep bringing my awareness back to the breath, I would pass through this bout of emotional discomfort and so transcend it. Well, he was right, I did pass through the storm, but I sure as hell didn't do it there. I know how much I am willing and able to process at a time, and I have no masochistic desire to push myself past breaking point. I think the teacher considered me weak minded, unable to push through to the other side. This doesn't bother me as much as it would have in the past. I'm no longer all that swayed by other people's opinion of me. I know my own mind and I knew that the time had come for me to stop the meditation practice, and go home.
I left despite much protestation, and the relief was astronomical. Don't get me wrong, the technique is amazing. It works. "If you patiently and diligently practice you are bound to succeed" - that's one of the phrases quoted often by the teacher, and it's true. But quite honestly, I'm not ready for too many fireworks at once, and i'd rather push further in a safe and loving space, at my own pace.
I'm still practicing, in fact my practice has tripled since I've been back (it's only be a day, but hey, maybe it will last :) I'm alternating between zazen and what I have learnt of vipassana.
I've also uncovered a hotbed of controversy surrounding the SN Goenka Vipassana Course, which is the one I attended. Mr. SN Goenka is a world leading vipassana teacher, and he runs meditation retreats all over the world to teach the technique. All very well, but it seems a lot of people have a problem with his particular approach. if you're interested in reading more see
this article. Very interesting observations about the apparent dangers of the retreat as structured by Goenka. Also in all his years of teaching, he has never fully initiated a student, and hence he is the only qualified teacher of his particular approach. All the retreats all over the world are taught using video footage and audio tapes of his teachings, and facilitated by his assistants, who are not quailfied to discuss the darmha. This proves to be a big problem, often an assistant teacher is out of his depth.
Anyway, all said and done I am pleased I went. I like what I learnt of this new technique, and I loved the taste of the fruits of hard practice.
Slowly does it, gently, carefully, with much awareness.
Bhavatu sabba mangalam (may all beings everywhere be happy and at peace)
