Reflections of a Zen Buddhist Retreat: Why I Didn’t “Survive” 3-Days of Focus

I return to the not-so-familiar chill of a September two-hours north of where the retreat occurred.
A collection of present moments strung together into one 3-Day experience that soon won’t be forgotten.
To have arrived at where I stood, inside of what I hadn’t expected to see, a real Zen Buddhist temple, hidden in the hills of Kentucky. It was no accident.
Each moment, from 7:30 p.m. on a Thursday until the afternoon a Sunday, to be intentional and in extreme focus, a practice in being.
“This is going to be easier than I thought,” said Friday-morning me. Having thought to have prepared my Self properly working up to 1-Hour meditation sits in the weeks prior, Friday-morning me waited to be unraveled.
The days were essentially identical, and held to the minute. An early wake-up immediately led to the 6:00 a.m. chanting service. In order to follow along, the absolute focus required in order to sing the quickly-in-succession Korean syllables immediately showed itself as serving the greater purpose.
Success occurs only through the utmost degree of attention, and it was soon revealed that a familiarity with the phrases as each individual part forms a whole, developed as the days continued and can only be described as a knowing. But, getting there required the most devoted of mental acuity, and preceded the understanding of the quality of minds present speaking the 500 or so syllables, rhythmically, by memory.
I was no match.
The onslaught continued. “If you would like seconds, you may have more oatmeal and fruit as we begin to eat.”
Sheer panic ensued as I discovered that my habits of eating more than I need led the entire group to await the finishing of my food as I realized I had acted selfishly and taken too much. Since we are required to only take as much as we can eat, you can expect at this point, breakfast is no longer enjoyable but rather a struggle to endure the suffering I had created for myself by acting in an unintentional and self-serving manner.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
You see, each meal is an act in full intention. A ritualistic gathering described as “incredibly intimate.” A small group of 15 or so sitting in silence, as was dictated by the entire weekend, performing the rituals of unpacking the bowls, receiving the food from our hosts, making a small offering of our food to their chosen deities, and then cleaning the bowls. All in near-unison.
As sitting commenced, the 30 minute sessions alternated with 15 minutes of walking meditation began to each have a mind of their own. Sit for 30. Walk for 15. Sit for 30. Walk for 15. Sit for 30. And to do this in 4 two-hour blocks for 3 consecutive days, was all that was required of us.
I had recently quit my job. Had the girl I’d felt I’d given so much for tell me “no, thank you anymore.” Lost high school friends as the certainty required in their truth versus mine became a barrier to our mutual understanding and purpose. And finally, the Self who felt that speaking my own personal truth as absolute, if for the sole purpose only to be heard, had also been recently lost.
In meditation, the mind would try anything (still often but less so) to replay the intimacy experienced with her. To recreate the certainty of the feelings that once felt so permanent so as to never leave. To replay the egoic trappings of a workplace-past and still the wondering of, “Was I right to leave?” No, it’s a silly question. Of course I was.
But, it’s becoming clear, why I’m here, at this 3-Day Silent Meditation Weekend. All of this…this….focus. It’s in everything they, no…..we do and around every turn is an opportunity for learning.
After taking too much oatmeal for seconds on the first meal, you’re guaranteed I took only as much as I needed, forgoing the fear of not having enough and simply being thankful for the understanding that not-knowing if I’ll have enough, is not a question that need be answered in this moment.
Rather, in this moment of feeling full…I am full. Nothing more, and nothing less. So becomes the finishing of the meal with the group, in harmony and unison so that all beings present may be allowed to flow smoothly with the natural current of the meal.
Flow.
We spend, no…I’ve spent most of my life thus far priding myself on someone that “could never be broken,” and yet wondered why I had been struggling to find success and longevity, focus, and depth to my professional dealings. In this 3-Day Silent Meditation Weekend, I discover that the willingness to listen deeply for only what is of required of me in every moment so that others may benefit, I find a strength in the giving of the Self I had previously perceived as weakness.
One of the most profound things I’ve ever experienced happened to me this weekend. In the presence of someone I’d only heard of in movies, a monk showed me, not told me, the meaning of Presence and the feeling of the genuine joy of Being available to us all, if we’re only willing to give full focus to the task at hand and to truly listen.
Unfortunately, you’ll need to discover on your own what it means to “truly listen,” as when we are connected to whomever and whatever demands our current, in-the-moment, full and complete focus, we cultivate in ourselves and others a pathway to an infinite and everlasting Being that pervades all of us and all of the Universe, that which we are one in the same.
As I sat there with him, having been shown that I was “telling” him about my “insights,” I had shared with him how they had come. The full focus in weeding gravel I had given had lent way to the understanding mentioned previously in the preceding paragraph. As it was obvious to this supremely enlightened human, his awareness of my non-focused nature in our interaction led him to share with me a metaphor, and if not for persuasion but to simply return me to a state of being from which he intuitively knew would benefit both he himself and I.
“If there was a piano in the room, you could say ‘It’s a black box with keys that you play to create wonderful sound.’” But, would I really truly understand a piano had you not simply sat and played it?
In my entire body, suddenly, I feel as though I am required to be of full focus. To be vulnerable. To be willing to be wrong as I looked him square in the eye as we continued to talk. Suddenly, the answers to his questions flowed effortlessly, as if our Selves, or something greater than ourselves were connecting. The answer to a previously posed (day before) question then presented itself as a full-body feeling, to which there were no words that could describe but, he knew I had understood.
There it was again.
The Joy of Being. Restored in me by a Zen Buddhist Monk who had intuitively known how to be so that we both may benefit. As I walked back to join the group, now in a Walking meditation period, I began to laugh.
It was the deepest and most genuine laugh I had ever felt. As though it was happening on its own at what I had just experienced. I will honestly never forget that feeling, as I knew I had met someone far beyond an awareness that which I could currently comprehend.
As Sunday afternoon came, I hadn’t reached the goal. There was no goal. There was only being. Each moment in the monumental mental, physical and at times emotional struggle of a 3-Day Silent Meditation Weekend was the goal. In a previous Self, it would be simply, “Make it to Sunday at 12:00 noon.” But, what’s Sunday at noon but a single moment more.
~~~~~
Example Daily Schedule
5:30 a.m. Wake-Up
6:00 a.m. Chanting Service, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation
8:00 a.m. Breakfast
8:30–9:30 a.m. Work Hour
10:00 a.m. Dharma Talk, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation
12:30 p.m. Lunch
2:00 p.m. Sitting Meditation, Interview with Monk, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation
4:30 p.m. Rest/Exercise/Optional Sitting
5:30 p.m. Dinner
7:00 p.m. Chanting Service, Walking Meditation, Interview with Monk (if not in afternoon), Sitting Meditation, Walking Meditation, Sitting Meditation
9:30 p.m. Bed
