Now I appreciate that many of you may well have been on retreat before, and some of you reading right now were alongside me on this one, but for those who have never experienced such an event, it is generally agreed that a good retreat can profoundly effect the mind for days, weeks, months and in some cases years after the event. Lifetimes even, arguably. We are all capable from time to time of a little momentary internal (or indeed, external) childish pouting when things don't go our way, but the calm serenity that had typified the weekend simply carried me out of the house and onto the streets in a most agreeable fashion. Mindful of the evening light, the delicate cool breeze and the freshly rain-soaked streets, I felt the weight of my body through the soles of my boots. I was deeply content with the world and my relatively temporary place in it. Mindfully I drank in each moment, prepared to observe any pervasive thoughts that might arise, but none came. Children played with scooters and footballs on the pavements, and distant birds, glad for a break in the weather, seemed to positively herald the fading afternoon sunshine. In short, it was the perfect setting for a gentle Sunday stroll. Idealistic, twee and overly romantic as this may sound, luck (although I personally no longer believe in it) seemed to be on my side. All was rosy in the Dharma-Garden.... Until I entered into the shop.
Bang! There it was. The coarse vulgarity of mundane existence, slap bang in the centre of my consciousness. As I said, I froze. My jaw clenched. A sharp inhalation of breath. Time stood still for a good few seconds. But rather than recoiling screaming from the shop in terror, smashing into a rotating birthday card display on my way out (much to the surprise of the 16 year old till attendant), I simply stood there. I saw the gap. I dove for it. I was there. I dwelt...
I saw the ugly negativity of years of conditioning rise up in me. Saw how judgemental I can be of people at times. Saw how it really is only me that suffers when I privately condemn people for their various tastes in newspapers, music or any of the million or so variables that go to make up a personality. How they are, in all likelihood, good, hardworking, honest people, much like you, dear reader, with the same fears, hopes and aspirations as every other person on the planet. Saw how limited my own view so often is. And saw that if someone wants a little comic relief from the daily grind in the imagery of a royal family member cavorting with a diminutive lover, then who am I to judge? Perhaps it's repressed jealously of the aforementioned royal on my part? Who knows? My point is this: in our fast paced lives we are constantly bombarded with multi-sense experiences on a second by second basis, and we almost never recognise that "in the seen, there is only the seen, in the heard, there is only the heard, in the sensed, there is only the sensed" etc. It is more often than not our reactions to these things that are really painful and unpleasant, not the items/events themselves! Eureka!
This was the theme of the weekend. For those of you who are right now experiencing a negative reaction to this very write up of the retreat, I can only apologise. I spent many hours after I returned from the shops (I'm pleased to say, laden with enough mushrooms, peppers and pasta to feed a small family) reflecting on how hard it would be to write up something that would not be maddeningly subjective and personal. How utterly impossible to convey the weekends events without it sounding like the generic "it-rained-periodically-throughout-but-everyone-stuck-together-and-we-all-had-a-really-good-time" type of review I'm sure we have all read over the years. How ridiculous it would be for me to speak on behalf of the whole group. I suppose I could mention the obvious positive experiences we all had. We all got to know our fellow Sangha members a little better, and how we all loved the atmosphere and the idyllic surroundings. I could take time to point out that the food prepared by Richard and Graham was second-to-none, that the talks and discussions by Sona and Vidyamala were exemplary, and how we all deepened our understanding of the unfathomable beauty and necessity of the Sangha Jewel in the post-talk analysis. To spiritual friendship, indeed, we all did go for refuge. I could highlight the keen irony of discovering just how loud a door banging at midnight in the countryside is, perhaps whilst on a retreat designed to increase mindfulness of self and of others. I could intersperse it with some tales of personal hilarity and insight (whilst we were all observing silence for the final mornings breakfast, I noticed that by applying extreme mindfulness to something as mundane as porridge, toast and a hot beverage, one can quite literally be given to unexplainable tears of joy and transcendental rapture! Try it - a dizzying and heady experience to taste peanut butter as if for the first time!). I could even recall the simple beauty of a 5am silent mountain walk I arranged with some of the more intrepid explorers in the group on the last day (this I liked very much), or mindfully strolling between the kitchen and the shrine room during heavy showers, contemplating "I am walking in the rain. I am getting soaked. But i will dry. All conditioned things are impermanent...."
But I won't. For one, it's horrifically pretentious, and I wouldn't dream of it. Secondly, any account of a retreat that attempts to transcend the mere facts would be, as I said, either relentlessly biased towards my own experience or tedious and generic. This account is my own, limited experience, and there are 30 or so other equally valid perspectives of the last 48 hours (as i write this, I'm merely 5 hours into my re-intergration into the "real" world). Thirdly, the only way you will be able to fully appreciate the depth of knowledge (not to mention passion) that Sona and Vidyamala have for conveying the Dharma is by listening online or better still turning up to one of their talks in person. And finally, the only real way to understand a retreat is to take the proverbial plunge and experience it yourself. Mindfully. Without attachment or judgement. After all, there is so much more to perception than meets the eye...
Yours, in metta,
The Dharma-Farmer
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| Noel and Stephen, sunrise over the Peak District, 22.04.2012 |
** This article is dedicated to all sentient beings, but especially Zara, who drove me there, Sona, who suggested I be given the honour of the write-up (see above), Noel, who had insisted that I had to make it available online, and Stephen, who brought the maps... Thanks a million guys! xx
