The present moment: My 10-day Vipassana meditation experience.
In the 10 days between August 11–21 I planned 2 weddings and a welcome dinner; crafted vegan meals for about whole month; distributed the hours of my day, re-distributed the hours of my day; designed my first 2 tattoos, decided their location on my body; named the 2 cats that I do not own yet; made action plans in case I ever become president of a country, my parents die, or we (yes, I now include myself in the collective South Korean we) get invaded by North Korea; wrote a book with the potential to become a series, 2 poems and outlined this blog post maybe five times. All in my head. Before you judge me as insane, please consider that during that period I was devoid of all physical touch, verbal and digital communication, reading, writing and exercising. I was attending a meditation course, during which one is supposed to clean the mind from all past and future thought (so one is not meant to think). I spent a lot of time sitting around and thinking, so perhaps this list is still concerning in a slightly different way. As you can see, I didn’t quite become enlightened, but the experience gave me other benefits that made it worthwhile.
A lot of friends and family have been asking about my purification journey, but I can never tell in which part of it they are actually interested. So here is all (most) of it. Feel free to skip to the sections that catch your eye.
Why I went
Last semester I found myself burning-out in a pit of un-motivated effort attempts. I fell in a hole without realizing I had fallen. Suddenly, I couldn’t see where I was going and although I tried, I couldn’t advance in any direction. It was like having an illusory-energy syndrome. I thought the problem was a lack of concentration or a misguided goal. Truth was, I couldn’t work or study because I simply didn’t have the energy to do it. In the midst of this misery (this will be important later), exacerbated (or maybe caused by) an ongoing existential crisis, I thought a 10 day meditation Vipassana course during holidays would allow me to remove the distractions and responsibilities from my life, really get to know myself and make a plan to achieve my objectives (or at least figure out what they were).
When summer came along, I hadn’t been able to put myself together to get an internship, so I stayed at home with my parents for three whole months (gasp!). Only when I felt the figurative rays of sun on my skin again did I realize how deep underground I had been trapped during the past months. A special mention must be given to my family: without them, I would have never gotten the rest that my body desperately needed. The Vipassana course was still an option. A series of unfortunate events (sessions getting full too quickly) led me to the last available date that fit my travel plans. Having renewed my craving for adventure and my energy levels, I booked my flight tickets to Seoul (where I’m doing my next semester of uni. See: Minerva) 3 weeks early and registered in the South Korea Dhamma center. So there I went, and now I’m back .
Expectation Vs. Reality
A bunch of free time to sit and think wasn’t really what SN Goenka, the now deceased last pure Vipassana teacher, had in mind. I was to sit, yes, but all my efforts were to go towards removing the thinking and increasing the feeling. Additionally, carving a career path and getting to know your preferences requires a fair amount of parallel experiences for you to be able to reflect; experiences unavailable to me at the meditation center. Only after getting there it occurred to me that researching what the technique of Vipassana entails would have been a good idea. It wasn’t a 10-day-sit-and-breathe course; it was a 10-day-sit-and-work-hard course. Although the website claimed the technique was non-sectarian, their definition of sectarianism didn’t include Buddhism. With good reason: Buddhism is not actually a religion, although us westerners tend to think about it as such. It is also not sectarian, in the sense that their philosophy is meant to be applied universally. So technically, it was indeed a non-sectarian course. In practice, my brain wasn’t prepared to consider -never mind accept- a bulk of theory not only accompanying the meditation; but allegedly necessary to experience its full benefit.
A brief summary (redundancy intended) of the philosophy and the practice
The routine looked like this: I woke up at 4:00 and sat for my first session at 4:30 every morning. We practiced meditation for about 10 hours each day, had three vegetarian meals, one q&a session with the assistant teacher and an evening lecture. The specific directions for meditating evolved as we got better and wiser. Initially, we were supposed to observe the sensations caused by breath near our nostrils, to then be able to scan the more subtle sensations in the rest of our body.
The highlights of the theory behind the teaching were the following (preface every statement with allegedly): our mind is programmed to react to every stimulus with either craving or aversion. These reactions generate attachment: the ultimate cause of misery. To come out of it, you have to achieve Panna (wisdom) and rewire your brain. Through Vipassana meditation, you develop the awareness to feel even the slightest sensation — and you train your mind not to react to it. Additionally, you have to clean your brain from past impurities/reactions, called Sankharas. The longer you manage to remain equanimous, the deeper the Sankharas you eliminate. This removal process manifests itself through physical pain - unpleasant sensations in the body that one should only observe. Adhittana (sittings of strong determination) were implemented on the fourth day to aid the brain surgery that removes the unconscious reactions. Three times a day for an hour we were not allowed to change the position of our legs, our hands or open our eyes. Ultimately, you should be able to reach a state of such heightened awareness that you can feel the vibration of every atom that makes up your body, dissolving its solid nature. The deepest Sankharas come out with this practice, until our mind gets rid of all the impurities and liberates itself (yourself, oneself) from misery.
The Easy
Panna is the ultimate stage preceded by two important steps: Sila and Samadhi. Sila stands for morality, the reason behind five precepts we observed on the first day: abstaining from harming living beings, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and intoxication. Following those rules was surprisingly easy. I wasn’t able to communicate with others to avoid lying, but I did not miss it. I also didn’t miss drinking, smoking or eating fish (I’m a pescatarian, so meat has always been out of question). I didn’t feel the need to check social media, and I didn’t get infinitely bored or went crazy with my thoughts as I feared might happen. Only once I panicked due to the inability of being informed in case a war started or something happened to a loved one, but I managed to control the paranoid thoughts after a couple of hours.
Samadhi was a whole different story.
The Hard
Sitting still for an hour proved very difficult at first — I thought I was going to cause irreparable damage to my knees. After a couple of tries, I was able to hold it together by moving my back and head a little bit to change the pressure on my limbs (hey, I technically wasn’t breaking the rules!). By the end of the week, I could maintain my posture almost effortlessly. It was motivating to see a tangible development in my flexibility, patience, and willpower. By the sixth day, Adhittana had become my favorite part of the day (after the evening discourses, which I found very interesting). They kept me from giving up on the whole ten-day thing. I did consider packing my suitcase and going back to execute the million plans in my head, but that impulse never lasted for more than a few a minutes. My pride usually kicked in accompanied by my rational mind dreading the idea of making arrangements to survive in Seoul more days than I had planned for. It was hard, but I did it!
The Hardest
Samadhi stands for concentration, focusing your mind. I can do that with the right object, focusing on the cute dog across the street, for example. In Vipassana, you practice Sama Samadhi — the right kind of concentration- focusing solely on the sensations on the body. Forget the past, the future and the five spider webs outside the window that freak you out. Until now this is impossible to me for more than 20 minutes.
A friend of mine once told me that I think a lot, while her mind is just quiet during the day. I didn’t believe her — she probably wasn’t paying attention to her thoughts, but they had to be there. Well, apparently having a quiet mind is actually a thing. A thing that I seem unable to do, but I might want to acquire. I was frequently surprised by the bizarre scenarios my mind drifted towards, and the level of detail that went into each of them. Hopefully I will never know the amount of time I waste pondering useless plans and highly unprovable scenarios. I shall try to daydream less (when I discover how).
Surprisingly, the only aspect that seriously made me consider quitting had nothing to do with meditation and didn’t even cross my mind before I arrived: the food. I was aware that all meals would be vegetarian, being a pescatarian trying to turn vegan I took this as a benefit. It is evident to me now that a course in South Korea would rely on the local cuisine. And trust me, I know that Asian cuisine is VERY different. But never did I imagine that under the vegetarian category, cooking styles would differ so much — I expected a good ol’ plate of warm lentils. Instead, I got cold bowls of tasteless sticky rice, an endless supply of spicy kimchee, and other foodstuffs whose content I still ignore. The first day I thought I would faint from inanition. I obviously didn’t. It became easier with time, but there was not a single day in which I didn’t dream of the food I would consume once I was free. By looking at others serving mountains of food and happily devouring them, I got very frustrated — this didn’t have to be part of the experience. I could be in Chile eating marraquetas with manjar or in Colombia eating arepas for breakfast, and the whole thing would have been so. much. easier. I bought a shrimp sandwich, chocolate milk, and cajun fries as soon as I got out.
Thoughts
Overall, I’m happy I participated. One of my friends (Hi Ben!) used to be really into stoicism, and I often asked him whether he got bored due to what I perceived as a lack of emotion. Being Latin-American, feelings (and drama) are what makes life worth living. Vipassana allowed me to understand that detachment, stoicism and equanimity don’t have to come with evasiveness. You can experience the present moment, feelings included, and still recognize that they will pass. It does not mean you can’t enjoy your achievements or grieve your losses.
I now accept that a dose of equanimity could bring significant benefits to my life. However, I am skeptical towards the exclusivity of the method. According to MS Goenka, Vipassana is the only way to fully escape misery (because of the Sankharas and all — see a brief summary of theory). I simply don’t buy that. Although Vipassana claims to be scientific and universal, accepting this exclusivity requires me to believe in concepts that I have no evidence for, which feels very sectarian. My dad (Hi dad!) is an excellent example of a not miserable person, and he achieved that through his Catholic faith, love, and self-reflection — no meditation involved.
Thinking Vipassana is the only way to escape misery is problematic because, to get full benefits, one should meditate for one hour every morning and every evening. That is a lot of time — very hard to do with a lifestyle like mine (hint: I’ve been staying in a hostel for the past five days, meditate in a bunk bed? Mmmaybe not). It seems to me that a lot of the benefits come from self-suggestion and habit building, so they could be acquired through other practices, like different types of meditation that fit my lifestyle better. However, I also recognize I don’t know enough about the philosophy to be able to give an informed judgment on it. Some parts did resonate with me, so I will try to read more about the evidence behind Buddhist philosophies. Vipassana could be the right fit for me after all.
There is also a situational difference. The present me does not feel miserable, but the past me — the one that took the original decision of attending, definitely did. Right now, I feel like I don’t need this practice in my life. But maybe in the future, once university starts rolling and anxiety kicks in, I could find a solution thanks to this practice. I’m thrilled to have another tool to use when Hard Times come my way. The meditation course also gave me a couple of friends (the best tool of all), and although it has been a short time since we met, I already really appreciate having them in my life (Hi Sean! Hi Chaerin! ❤).
It is a unique ten-day free experience that everyone should try, at least to get a rest from our crazy always-doing society.
Some unsolicited advice
If you are thinking about participating, figure out what the bare minimum would have to be to feel that it was ‘worth it.’ If your bare minimum is nothing, then you are up for a great experience. If your bare minimum is getting free food and accommodation for ten days, then you are also all set! In other words: don’t have expectations and everything will feel like an added benefit.
Also, chose a place where you are familiar with the cuisine! Although it was a culturally immersive experience, I don’t recommend doing what I did. Chose something familiar. However, I also wouldn’t recommend doing it right in your hometown, where taking a bus and going back to the comfort of home is way too easy. Put some barriers between you and your normal life, so that you will be more inclined to stay for the ten days. Maybe do it in a neighboring country or a different city.
Feel free to message me if you have a question that I didn’t cover in here. I’m thinking of starting a blog, so maybe you’ll read me soon — or maybe not!
