Hong’s Stories: Summer Kyol Che 2007
Amituofu friends! Back in August 2007, I was invited by my Korean Zen master Myoji Sunim to join her for a three-day silent retreat at a mountainside temple in Providence, Rhode Island. Summer Kyol Che is traditionally three-months long, but they allow students to come in for shorter intervals.
Sunim and I took a van up on Tuesday afternoon, and entered the temple at 5 am Wednesday morning. We did not speak again until Friday evening. Thankfully I brought a bottle of Advil, because sitting in zazen for three days straight is no walk in the park.
We would sit for an hour, do walking meditation for 10 minutes, sit for an hour and so on. At some point we would eat lunch, finished off by by swishing hot water in our bowl and drinking the "leftovers" so as to leave nothing behind.
After lunch, we raked leaves for an hour and then went back to zazen including a ten-minute mid-afternoon interview with the temple Abbott (the only speaking each day), had dinner (same routine) and sat for a few more hours. We went to bed at 9 pm, my muscles in spasm around my entire body.
At the time I was working on Wall Street running my own $200 million healthcare investment firm. The markets were acting crazy, in hindsight anticipating the 2008 financial crisis. I decided nevertheless not to cancel the trip, and so left my team to run the fund (silence includes NO CELL PHONES LOL) in what ended up being the most volatile weak of the year, and thankfully a good one for us.
As I sat in silence all day Wednesday and Thursday, I might as well have been in front of my Bloomberg. My mind raced relentlessly with anxiety about my stocks from morning until night. Friday morning I awoke to the same noise, although at least my body by this time had grown accustomed to the physical pain.
At around 11 am after a round of walking meditation, I sat and again tried to focus on a spot about six feet in front of me. Only now suddenly I was able to focus on that spot. My mind quiet, my breathing slow and regular, I stared at began to relax in my seat.
In and out, in and out, no noise. I kept waiting for my mind to kick in, but it didn't. Eventually, I moved my gaze from the spot to the temple window and the forest outside. It was as if I was sitting in zazen on the earth, in the universe. There were no longer any boundaries.
This state continued through silent lunch, through the raking of leaves and the rest of the afternoon. At six pm the retreat ended and Myoji Sunim and I headed back to the city in our van.
Sitting next to her still in ecstasy, I turned and started to explain what had happened. She listened patiently. When I was done, she said in a kind but firm voice, "Forget about it. Don't get attached."
More chi! Train harder!
Hong of $aint Benjamins
