Cushion Report: Fifty Days of Wu Wei

I like this word "wu wei." It's from the Chinese and is translated as non-doing, non-action, or non-interference. Maybe I like it because it reminds me of when I was about 21 and I fell in love with the Tao Te Ching. I still think if I had to be stuck on an island with only one book, I might choose that one.

The Master does nothing,
yet nothing is left undone.
A foolish man is always doing,
Yet much remains to be done.

- Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching (38)

As this story unfolds, you may see the significance of this concept, but let's start at the start. I didn't journal everyday, but rather every 5 days for the first 40 days and not at all while on the Goenka retreat (as per Goenka's rules.) So, this will be quite a condensed version of the vast lifetime of experience that occurs in 50+ days.

Day 0: By great fortune, the retreat began for me almost instantly upon my arrival, and by that I mean the inner process began. Within a few hours of just being on the gorgeous property, I found myself in deep surrender. I willingly gave up all expectations for the next 40 days and decided to just let whatever happens be whatever happens. It was like there wasn't a single drop of desire in me that could have imposed my will on the next 40 days. Or put another way, it was like looking at the trees, and the mountains and saying "I'm yours!" Thus, the retreat was underway.

Day 5: "Experience. Everything is experience. No control, no forcing, letting go. Layer after layer. At times wild ride, at times quite plain. Just being, just sitting, just walking."

I had an image of those folks you hear about in the cornfields of the mid-west who form welcoming crews for the aliens. I was the welcoming crew, except not for aliens but for the inner experience of Truth.

Day 10: "Lots of 'dream work.' The dream-life boundary not so strong. Powerful dreams, lucid dreams, deep states of knowing consciousness. Still enjoying myself."

The crisp immediate presence with moment-to-moment experience would come and go. My slogan became: "Don't force it." (Thanks Damian!) and with that I was experience a lot of ease.

Day 10 was a transition day because some people only came for 10 days and some people were arriving for the next 30. This turbulence proved to be the start of a new chapter in the retreat.

Day 15: "Long five days - seems like long time since I last wrote... just kinda walking around, eating, etc. Same 'ol same 'ol. Thinking a lot too... Mind/thought/figuring out, etc. is becoming more and more obvious of it's uselessness. Like unemployed mind - going out of business. More and more just being with direct experience.
'But it doesn't make sense' <-- exactly!
Not much "makes sense" to my mind over the last few days, but I'm just kinda going with it... Feels like waking up, but can't say that I totally enjoy it. I'm still really liking this idea: "slowly and quietly, just going about my day, going about the practice." No frills - simplicity - the simplest thing - Life."

The quote above "slowly and quietly..." was from an observation Christopher Titmuss made about the monks and nuns who seemed to make the most progress while he was in the monastery.

At this point, I wasn't really going on any "meditation instructions" so to speak. My practice basically looked like how I described it above, that simple.

Day 20: "Too much to write. Days 10-18 were tough - got in some mind loops... More trust in experience - less dependence on mental constructs... only 3 weeks left. he he..."

This trust comment in my journal is significant. Much of the retreat (and even my daily practice now) seems to be around learning to trust the actuality of my being rather than the self I think of myself as through mental images. A quick digression here...

Reading A.H. Almaas, it seems that ego psychology now posits that one reason we may have such a large brain which creates mental constructs, self-other images, and ultimately an ego, may be for the survival of the infant. That is to say that for an infant to be separated from his/her mother might be quite difficult to bear, but if the child has an image of "mother" in mind then no loss is detected.

The individual, that is the self-image, is supported psychically by the presence of the mother's image; thus the child does not feel alone when physically separate from the mother. He feels supported by the presence of the mother's image, which gives him the sense of security which allows him to be away from her, and makes it safer to regard her as an autonomous person.
- A.H. Almaas, The Pearl Beyond Price

The only problem is that this sense of security is based on an image and thus either one will always live life as an image or approximation of themselves, or this deeper insecurity must be addressed.

So, that's my digression, for which you can forgive me if it was overly-intellectual and wordy. In reality, I really was just kinda walking around, sitting, eating, and lying in bed.

"Day 25:
Sublime
Being as is. Listening inside.
I'm starting to hear myself.
She's calling me home.
"Trust," she says.
Trust.
Everyday, the mind game grows weaker.
I know the way.
Just Be. Just Be. Just Be."

Seeing as how my journal entry is a poem, and how I refer to myself in the feminine, it may be self-explanatory that I was near the peak of my trippiness for this retreat. (And, it's not without a small amount of shyness that I reprint my poem here.)

Perhaps it's a good time to mention that there was a very feminine quality to my Open Dharma retreat. Perhaps due to the nature of the retreat and the instructors (which hopefully I can write about later.) My relationship with the feminine in me grew significantly. I'll also briefly mention that when I got to the Goenka retreat (the last 10 days), I noticed some movement back toward the masculine. But, this whole masculine-feminine topic is way too much to get into now.

Day 30: "It feels like the retreat just started. Day 26-29 were a bit rough and stormy. Today, I'm taking rest. Day off. Recuperate. A lot of stuff has happened, but none of it seems like such a big deal. Right now, I'm fantasizing about living in a Japanese Monastery... still here. Not doing much... I love just being. Loving wu wei. Loving love. Still such DEEP longings. Belly longings. So many wants/So many dreams and Desires."

Worth noting in this journal entry is the word "rest." Throughout the 40 days, I became much more proficient at resting, and I'm continuing the practice even today. At times, it's quite difficult.

Day 35: "35 days!... Heaven here. Saw a snake today, and the waterfall. Too hard to explain how this has all unfolded. What do I usually say to this journal?
Nothing Special?
Living my life - ups and downs.
Coming to know myself more and more.
Loving meditation, and realizing more that "being" is meditation is presence is my nature... so really loving meditation is loving myself, loving the truth of my being.
Some shitty days have come and gone. It's hard to say I'm "progressing," as life still feels quite ordinary. But, I am coming to know myself and to know the images which have played the role of "myself" for quite some time. Funny, I'm also realizing how this path really leads nowhere. Like, there's really nothing in it for me. The meaning of Life is Life itself (not me, he he...) Looks like a lot of work still ahead of me."

Day 40: "Wow... uh... what? That was forty days? ummm... huh? *Time*..?
I just talked with Ajay. I said it seems like both:
- I've arrived! I'm here!
- AND... keep going!
He said: "Yes, keep flying with both the feathers."
It's a weird feeling. Doesn't feel particularly special in any way - just feels "ok"... I'm leaving tomorrow, but so far, even "leaving" doesn't feel like "leaving." It just feels like change - more life.
... The silence is a little unnerving. And in fact, it makes sense why I spend my life trying to fill the silence - because there's really nothing there. There's really nothing when the noise fades away. Just Being. And, then, when the time is right, things come. And then they go. And that's just life. Just here. That's all."

And with that my 40 day retreat ended, but I saw no reason to stop there. I got on an overnight train to Dehra Dun and started a ten-day Goenka retreat the next day.

Days 42-44 (Day 0-2 for Goenka):
I didn't like the center much at all when I arrived. (I hope to write about it in another post. Mostly the issue was body pain.) And, I spent the first 2 days considering a run for the exit. I decided that I would leave on one and only one condition: kindness toward myself. No other excuse could make me budge, but if the strict ascetic discipline of the Goenka center even for one moment required me to compromise my own self-kindness, I would've left.

Happily, however, I learned by day 45 (day 3) that the harshness was mostly in appearance only. And by day 3, I was able to settle into , my own rhythm which, though still strict, was sufficiently loving for the needs of my mind and body.

Due to the extra restrictions of Goenka's courses, I had a more intense experience there than in Sattal. I found myself entering some rather altered states and to be honest, I don't even remember day 3-7 (day 45-49).

By around Day 50 (Day 8), thoughts of the outside world started to come in... checking email, blogging, etc. and I slowly transitioned to the end (Day 11/54)

No notes for my Goenka retreat, but it continued along the same threads. I did my best to follow Goenka's technique (observing bodily sensations), while still staying true to my maxim: "Don't force it." (thanks Damian). Mostly, I stayed within the peculiarities of his technique but had quite an interesting experience perhaps around Day 5 (day 47):
Quite spontaneously, my mind started meditating according to another technique from another tradition (Mahasi-style noting). I actually made an attempt to stop it as I wanted to stay in the spirit of "when in Goenkaland, do as the Goenkans." To my surprise, I was unable to stop it, and instead I surrendered to it and found myself having quite a profound meditative experience. But, this did beg the question: "Who's doing the meditating here?" Since it was occurring against my will, who's will was it?

This inquiry is still unfolding for me now in my daily practice, and I think it will continue to unfold as well.

At any rate, I've tried to give a fairly honest and open account here of my experience, but of course, it can only be partial. May it be of some value.

I'll defer to Ghandi to give this last point a better treatment:

I find myself confronted with a fresh problem. What things to mention and what to omit... If things that are relevant are omitted, truth will be dimmed. And it is difficult to decide straightaway what is relevant, when I am not even sure about the relevancy of writing this story... I know that I do not set down in this story all that I remember. Who can say how much I must give and how much omit in the interest of truth? And what would be the value in a court of law of the inadequate ex parte evidence being tendered by me of certain events of my life?...

I, therefore, wonder for a moment whether it might not be proper to stop writing... But so long as there is no prohibition from the voice within, I must continue writing.

- Ghandi, from his autobiography

Sadhu, Sadhu, Sadhu
Well said, Ghandi. Well said.