Teaching Meditation

I'm up at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health for ten days, part of the 500-hour Advanced Yoga Teacher Training.  This module focuses on teaching meditation. We've got 51 sincere, adventurous participants here, many cooking in their own juices while we explore different meditation techniques and their effect on body, mind and spirit.  Part of this training is a four-day retreat jammed with experiences - and to make things more fun, we're in social silence until we start practice teaching.

As anyone who meditates knows, when you pause, slow down and start paying attention, everything undigested in your life starts to come to the surface.

As much as I like people to like me, I'm strangely comfortable with the discomfort in the room.  We're experiencing infinite variations of the hindrances:  anger, blame, judgement, craving, planning, fantasy, anxiety, sloth, numbness, doubt, fear, grieving, shame and more.  As much as I try to keep setting the context, I still get glaring looks from time to time.

I guess it's because I've personally burned through so much on the meditation cushion that I can be so spacious.  If they still don't like me by the time they leave, then maybe it really is me!

Shunryo Suzuki speaks of four race horses.

He says:"It is said that there are four kinds of horses: Excellent ones, good ones, poor ones, and bad ones. The best horse will run slow and fast, right and left, at the driver's will, before it sees the shadow of the whip. The second best will run as well as the first one, just before the whip reaches its skin. The third one will run when if feels pain on its body, and the fourth will run after the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones. You can imagine how difficult it is for the fourth one to learn to run."

When we hear this story, almost all of us want to be the best horse. If it is impossible to be the best one, we want to be the second best. But this is a mistake, Master Suzuki says. When you learn, you're tempted not to work hard, not to penetrate to the marrow of a practice.

The best horse, according to Suzuki, may be the worst horse. And the worst horse can be the best, for if it perserveres, it will have learned whatever it is practicing all the way to the marrow of the bones.

And in my opinion, the worst horses make the best teachers.

Images from the Week

I'm heading up to Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health to co-lead a nine-day training in teaching meditation for their 500-hour professional level Yoga Teacher Training program.  I got a late start and driving up the eastern seaboard at the wrong time resulted in hours of images pretty much like this:

But before I left I loaded the dogs in the car and drove to the river, hoping to hang out with the goslings who've just arrived.  I got there before they woke up and watched them enter a new day.  As it was a cool morning, the goslings were huddled up in a pile with attentive adult supervision.

Something woke them up.

After a little stretching it was time to enter the day.

Finally, some hallucinogenic-looking ferns I saw on on the way home.

The Spring Retreat

We are coming to a close of the Spring Meditation Retreat.

When you consider your options to step away from your busy life for a week of stripped down simplicity, do consider Club Meditation vs. Club Med.

All the basic are here:  great food, a wonderful environment, a spacious schedule and caring support for your practice. While we are all refraining from speaking, practitioners have an interview with a teacher every other day and in the silence, the support from those around you is palpable.   There is definitely a feeling that we’re in this together.

I’ve often imagined I’d feel lonely on a retreat, but it’s quite the opposite. There is a collective sharing of the ‘good’ days and ‘bad’ days, the ‘good’ sits and ‘bad’ sits.  We each have periods where we feel tight and constricted other times when we feel spacious and gracious.

After awhile the labels of good and bad drop away and I simply feel how everything changes.  The low morning light turns bright and blazing.  Bird song is busy in the morning, goes into a mid-day lull and picks up at night.  The moon is in a slightly different place each night.

James Taylor said, “The secret of life is enjoying the passing of time.”  Taking it one step further, maybe it’s just being the passing of time.

Images from the Week

Chlorophyl.  Gotta love it.  The green is just so darn ... green.  A few shots from early morning walks this week, including what may be our last frost for a while.

Images from the Week

My brother, his wife and family were down from Maine this week.

The Year of Living Mindfully

It's hard to find words to describe the ending of the "Year of Living Mindfully."  I'm deeply inspired by this gathering of twenty three good-hearted, sincere practitioners.  This was our final weekend and I think this image best communicates the feeling:

Morning Sunrise

Peaking Blue Bells

The Virginia Blue Bells have officially peaked.  Here at River Bend Park, because of the annual flooding and accumulation on sand here on the inside of bend of the Potomac, we have the ideal micro climate for them.  In case you missed 'em, here's a healthy specimen - one out of many acres of them.

A Few Images from the Week

One of the many blessings in my life is living right near the river.  I'm out most every day with my camera looking for something I haven't noticed before.  Here are a few shots from this last week:

Spring Sunrise

Diary of a Dog and a Cat

Exploring how our state effects our perceptions, I read the the Diary of a Dog and a Cat.   Pretty funny, I must say.

DIARY OF A DOG AND CAT
The Dog’s Diary	The Cat’s Diary
8:00 am – Dog food! My favourite  thing! 9:30 am – A car ride! My favourite thing! 9:40  am – A walk in the park! My favourite thing! 10:30 am – Got rubbed  and petted! My favourite thing! 12:00 pm – Milk bones! My favourite  thing! 1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favourite  thing! 3:00 pm – Wagged my tail! My favourite  thing! 5:00 pm – Dinner! My favourite thing! 7:00 pm –  Got to play ball! My favourite thing! 8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with  the people! My favourite thing! 11:00 pm – Sleeping on the  bed! My favourite thing!	Day 983 of my captivity. My captors  continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling  objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the  other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.  Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I  nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my  strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream  of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again  vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and  dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this  would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my  capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments  about what a “good little hunter” I am. B@*****s! There  was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in  solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could  hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that  my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must  learn what this means, and how to use it to  my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt  to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet  as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of  the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here  are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special  privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing  to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an  informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am  certain that he reports my every move. My captors  have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he  is safe. For  now.....

It's Real, this Spring Thing.

Some images from this Spring:

Skillful Means vs. Manipulation

There is a fine line between

1. skillfully directing the mind and
2. trying to manipulate the mind toward ‘feeling better.’

Here are a few things I found helpful during my month-long retreat - for a while.  Once I ‘lost the buzz’ I found myself struggling to ‘get back there.’

Eventually I realized that the ‘there’ I was trying to get to is actually 'here.'

That’s when I started to relax.

Tulku Urgyen said the following phrase describes the essence of the practice.  As you reflect on these words, simply feel their effect.  There is no doing here ... Just opening to the sense of things.

“Utterly Awake, Sense Doors Wide Open,

Utterly Open, Non-Fixating Awareness.”

The Tibetans describe consciousness as “Undivided Emptiness Suffused with Knowing.” I found reflecting on that phrase helpful.

As cliché as this may sound, when you are meditating you might ask yourself:

“What would the Buddha do?"  "How would the Buddha meet this moment?"

I found this to be quite effective ... By tuning into what I imagined as the consciousness of the Buddha I could sometimes feel a distinct shift to an expansive sense of presence.

I'm Baaaaaack!

As the teacher Adyashanti says, "Sit still long enough with your eyes closed and something is gonna happen."

Indeed.  A lot did.

The first many days I focused on getting concentrated.  No, actually, the first few days were trying to stay awake.  I think I slept over ten hours the first few nights.

After that, I started to work on sharpening my capacity to stay present.  I did Anapana Sati - breath awareness - and thinking I might make this a concentration retreat, I focused on the very subtle sensation of the breath against my upper lip.

After a number of days - I can't remember how many - I decided I'd open up my awareness beyond this strict concentration practice and in the silence and undistracted schedule, was treated to the spectacle of the mind manufacturing an unbelievable amount of content.

One thing I always come to recognize is just how shameless the mind is.

I experienced moments of amazing expansiveness and presence as well as old hurts, petty grievances, planning, fantasy and small-mindedness.  Mostly what I came to experience was how little control we actually have over the mind and the different states of consciousness as they come and go.  After a few weeks of paying attention to this it can be incredibly entertaining to watch the mind thinking in a moment of clarity, "What a great job I'm doing!" and during a meditation filled with disheartening fog, "What went wrong?  How do I get 'back there?'".

Eventually I began to see there is nowhere to 'get.'  And that's when the relaxation began to flow, a deepening awareness of the qualities of impermanence, clinging and the truly ephemeral sense of 'self.'

I was really happy to go.  And really happy to be back.

What to Bring?

It’s time to pack.

One month.

My goal:  One bag.

It’s the heart of the wet season in Northern California and the temperature will range from 40 - 60 degrees.  For an ectomorph like me, these temperatures can still feel pretty chilly when it’s so humid.

My rule of thumb is to bring just enough so that if I wear everything on the coldest day, I’m still toasty.  I wash my clothes when I take my daily shower.  (I use a waterproof bag for soaking and rinsing.)

Here’s a list of what I’m taking on retreat.  It all fits in one carryon bag.

Feet

Hiking boots.  Waterproof, for hiking in rain and mud.

Crocs.  Light, comfy slip-ons.

4 pair of Thorlo hiking socks and 3 pair of liners.  (An indulgence, as socks are such a pain to hand-launder and can take a long time to dry.)

Legs

2 pair quick-drying underwear

1 pair of light-weight long underwear

1 pair of fleece pants

2 pair of nylon, lightweight pants.

1 pair gym shorts

Torso

2 pair silk undershirts

2 pair quick-dry undershirts

1 lightweight merino wool zip

1 fleece shirt

Outerwear

Travel Vest

Rain jacket

Rain pants

Down sweater

Patagonia sweatshirt with hood

Rain hat

Wool cap

Sealskins lightweight waterproof gloves

Outdoor / Adventure

Nylon daypack

Water bottle

Steripen water purifier

Hydration tablets

Hiking-sized first aid kit

Sunglasses

Small LED flashlight

Mind

Two spiral bound notebooks for journaling

As It Is, by Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche

The Sound of Silence by Ajahn Sumedho

Small Boat, Great Mountain, by Amaro Bikhu

Practicing the Jhanas, by Stephen Snyder and Tina Rasmussen

Toilette

OralB toothbrush with charger

Neti pot and non-iodized salt

Tongue scraper

Floss

Soap

Concentrated mouthwash

Rescue Remedy

Toothpaste

Razor

Shaving oil

Laundry

Unscented liquid laundry soap

Waterproof bag for soaking

2 inflatable hangers for drying shirts

Elastic clothesline

Sundry

Earplugs

Eye mask

Inflatable meditation cushion

Lightweight wool shawl

“Miracle Balls” (Small plastic balls for releasing pressure on the spine)

Heavy weight elastic band (for strength training if I get inspired)

Supplements

Fish oil

Vitamin B

Vitamin C

Multi vitamin

Excedrin migraine pain reliever

Emergen-C

Technology

iPhone

iPhone charger

Headphones

Backup battery

Canon G11 camera

Battery charger

Lightweight tripod

LED reading light

Small extension cord

January Images

Commit to Sit

I'm grateful for the luxury of a month-long retreat and am wondering if you might like to take this month to deepen your practice as well. This is an invitation to take on a discipline for the month of February.  (We'll check in in March and see how it went.)

Back in the ashram, we employed a very useful mechanism for keeping a practice alive.  We called it having a 'sadhana buddy.'  (Sadhana means 'spiritual practice.')

A sadhana buddy (or study buddy or dharma buddy) is someone with whom you partner for a period of time with the intention to keep your attention on your commitment to practice.

Here are the basic steps:

1.  Find someone with whom you might partner.

2.  Decide on your aspiration for this period of time.

3.  Determine what kind of support would work best for you.

A few clarifications:

1. Find someone with whom you might partner.

Your dharma buddy doesn't have to be a close friend.  Sometimes it's a nice way to get to know someone or even amp up the accountability factor.

2.  Decide on your aspiration for this period of time.

Your aspiration doesn't have to be limited to meditation.  Any life-enhancing practice can be your focus for the month.

You might like to explore 'restraint with awareness:'

Perhaps you'd like to eliminate some foods from your diet and explore what that feels like.  Or cut out extraneous web-surfing for the month.  For a set period of time, Joseph Goldstein once embarked on a practice of not speaking about anyone unless they were present.  Drop a television show that really doesn't do it for you anyway.  Eliminate or reduce some activity that you sense isn't life-enhancing.

Or you might consciously add something:

Commit to a daily practice of a certain length.  Try a yoga or movement class.  Take on a good dharma book.  Engage into a reasonable exercise regime.  Do a daily gratitude list.  Journal every day for a month.

It doesn't really matter what you commit to.  The interesting thing is to see how the commitment shapes your experience.

3.  Determine what kind of support would work best for you.

This can be a lot of fun.  Some people schedule a weekly call, send a brief daily email with their successes and challenges, have a weekly get together to share what they're noticing.

Make it fun.  Having someone with whom you can share the topic of commitment and change can be a wonderfully deepening experience.

If you decide to take a month-long practice of your own, look at every way you can help it be a success ... and let me know how it went for you!

One Week to Retreat

One week to my departure to Club Med.  Club Meditation, that is.

For the month of February I’ll be immersed in a Vipassana Retreat in the canyons of Northern California at Spirit Rock Meditation Center, about 45 minutes north of San Francisco.

The setting is fantastic.  The retreat is up a side canyon and backs into what seems to be square miles upon square miles of open land.  Steep hills, deep, rutted arroyos, a blend of grassland and trees of all varieties.  Deer and wild turkey nonchalantly wander through the campus.

I will be living a stripped down life.  Sitting meditation, walking meditation, meals in silence.  A ‘yogi job’ for one hour a day either working in the kitchen or doing household chores.

A teacher of mine once said that we don’t gain anything by adding things to our lives.  The value comes when we take things away.  I go on and on about ‘restraint with awareness’ as part of the path.  This is a pretty ‘restrained’ month.

No speaking.  No eye contact.  No email.  No vmail.  No web.  No iPhone on my hip.  No reading beyond one or two classical dharma books, if I read at all.  Writing will be restricted to taking notes on dharma talks or scribbling something down that just HAS to be recorded.

Other than two 15 minute interviews with a teacher per week, I’ll be in silence.    The last month-long I sat I croaked for the first few minutes of my interviews as my vocal chords felt so out of use.

It’s kind of fun to pack for a trip like this.  How many clothes does one need if no one is looking at you for a whole month?  I’ll do my ‘one bag’ travel thing and bring the absolute minimum, hand-washing my clothes daily as part of my routine.  A few quick-dry t-shirts, underwear, some long underwear, socks and some light wool sweaters that I’ll layer.

It’s the rainy reason, so I’ll bring full rain gear for hiking in what will probably be pretty soggy hills.

It’s hard to get excited about a meditation retreat.  I suspect, if it’s like retreats I’ve done in the past, that I’ll go through some extreme fatigue, a period of intense mental/emotional and physical turbulence and settle into a stillness and subtlety impossible to replicate in the outside world.

I’m bursting with gratitude to have a month like this to pause so deeply.  There is nothing like a retreat where you feel so supported.  People are cooking for you, cleaning up for you, concerned for your welfare and well-being and your only ‘job’ is to be fully present to what is.

Tundra Swans

It's that time of year when the Tundra Swans pass through for a short while.  I was out the other morning and saw three, but didn't have my telephoto lens.  I grabbed a shot in low light which is pretty lousy.

So of course I've been down there every morning since and of course, no tundra swans.

These are one of North America's largest migrating birds with a wingspan of up to 85 inches.  They breed in the western arctic, but winter down here.  That's a 3,000 mile migration with half their lives in transit.

Ice or Water?

The river is such an alive organism.  In the midst of a deep freeze, there is always some movement, even if it's just below the surface.  The following image explores the relationship between solid and liquid.