It was probably my curiosity that first took me to the Vipassana Meditation Retreat around nine years ago, when I attended my first intensive meditation course. The courses are run by an international organisation renowned for its 10-day residential courses in Vipassana meditation that are held regularly throughout the year.
In essence, students attending the courses are required to sit and meditate for around 10 hours per day and are not permitted to speak for the duration of the course, except to the assistant teacher if any clarification is required regarding practical aspects of the meditation. Previous experience in meditation is unnecessary and detailed instruction is given in progressive stages every day throughout the course. Rather than charging fees for the courses, the centre is funded purely by “Dana” or donations from students who have completed a 10-day course and who want others to benefit from the experience.
I distinctly recall the sense of curiosity, trepidation and naivety when I arrived at the centre to attend my first course. It was the middle of June and the weather conditions only served to heighten the experience. There were about 80 people on the course, roughly half male and half female.
Before commencing, we were asked to make a number of commitments, including remaining at the centre until the completion of the course, the renowned vow of silence (appropriately referred to as noble silence) and not engaging in any form of external stimuli, including reading, writing, listening to music, any sexual activity and physical exercise - other than walking during the breaks. A commitment was also made not to take any form of intoxicant for the duration of the course. This wasn’t a big deal for me, but I felt sympathy for a couple of smokers I met during registration who were about to go “cold turkey” for 10 days.
In fact all the rules seemed appropriate to me, particularly given that most of us rarely go a few hours, let alone several days, without constant stimulation of our senses from the surrounding environment. Even the idea of not speaking for 10 days appealed to me and after completing the course I realised how refreshing this was and how much effort was actually required to communicate constantly.
After repeating a number of moral vows that are also fundamental elements of Buddhist teachings, we were given our first instructions and commenced the meditation. The first three days were spent practising a technique of meditation which involved observing the breath and the sensations the breath creates as it enters and exits the nostrils. It’s a very simple technique, but surprisingly difficult to practise and to keep the mind’s attention firmly focussed on such a small area for more than a few seconds.
But a few seconds became a few moments and few moments became a few minutes and by the morning of the fourth day, my mind had actually begun to slow down a little. I also noticed that not only had the periods when I was totally aware of my breath increased, but also that my awareness was sharper and more concentrated.
It also took me three days to find a position in which I could stay still for more than 15 or 20 minutes at a time. After all, sitting cross-legged for so long was something I hadn’t done for at least 20 years so I took advantage of the copious stock of cushions in an attempt to find a semi-comfortable position. Eventually, I reverted to the use of a small wooden meditation stool, as did several other students. A few older students and those with injuries were able to use a low chair and sit at the back of the meditation hall.
On day four, the technique of Vipassana was taught and this continued, with a slightly new element or level being introduced each day until the end of the course. Also on day four, we were asked to attempt three periods of “Adhittana” or sittings of “strong determination” each day for the remainder of the course.
These three, one-hour periods, which occurred after breakfast, mid-afternoon and after the evening break, basically involved sitting absolutely still, without opening our eyes, our hands or even scratching for a full hour. For someone who found it difficult to sit still, I was amazed that by the end of the course I was able to meditate for an hour without moving. I thought that if I could do it, anyone could.
By day six, I realised how much of a “monkey mind” I have and that from the moment I wake up in the morning until the moment I fall asleep at night, my mind is constantly thinking about the past or the future, or about things I want or don’t want. And if my mind is constantly thinking, it can’t possibly be in the present moment, fully aware of what is happening here and now.
So it became clear that one of the aims of this meditation is to reduce and ultimately cease the constant “chattering” of the mind by focussing on the sensations of the body – which are a function of the present moment.
On day nine I felt relieved to be near the end of the course. But it wasn’t until this late stage that I understood how important the full 10 days of constant practise really are. Without this duration and intensity, along with the support of experienced teachers and the absence of external distraction, I would never have had the opportunity to effectively unlearn what I have learnt all my life and at least get a brief taste of what is really possible.
On day 10, noble silence turned into not-so-noble chattering and a deep feeling of achievement and wonder was common amongst the students. I also became aware that my senses were heightened - not surprising given they had been deprived for so long. To me, colours seemed brighter, the mountain air seemed fresher and the vegetarian meals served each day were delightful. Unfortunately for me, they were also an endless source of craving.
Apart from the meals, the most welcome event each day was the evening discourse. Each discourse lasted around an hour and featured the centre’s founder and teacher, Mr S. N. Goenka, delivering the theory and philosophy necessary to support the practice of the meditation.
Personifying the wisdom and compassion he teaches, Goenka’s stories and anecdotes provided welcome relief after a long and hard day’s work. His words and advice were also incredibly timely, often removing doubts and answering specific questions that arose each and every day.
On day two and day six, Goenka informed us that both of these days are great hurdles in the course and that as we try to tame our mind and remove deep impurities from the subconscious, there is bound to be some kind of a revolt. He says that a weak minded person will find it difficult to pass these hurdles and will give in to the temptation to run away, despite all the commitments and promises made at the beginning of the course to remain until the end.
Sure enough, I did briefly contemplate leaving on day two and day six. But the concept of running away also crossed my mind on day three, day five and day seven. And each time I remembered the commitment I had made to the centre and more importantly to myself.
I also imagined how disappointed I would be if I didn’t stay until the end. So as my resistance grew, so did my determination.
Over the years, having returned to the centre to complete a number of courses and become more established in the meditation, I’ve seen a few people drop out. But the great majority of new students successfully complete the Vipassana course and most of these do indeed regard it as an experience of a lifetime.
For more information on the 10-day Vipassana course phone (08) 8278 8278 or write to SA Vipassana Meditation Association. PO Box 10292 , Gouger St Adelaide SA 5000
www.dhamma.org/schsa.htm
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