Tales from Thailand- Part VIII Meditation Complications

Saying goodbye to my dad when leaving China to catch my flight back to Bangkok was incredibly difficult for me. I missed my family and friends terribly, and getting to spend time with him had renewed the ache of not seeing them. When I was looking to leave India, I had convinced myself that it was ok to go back to Thailand because I would be looking for jobs; it was ok to not go home yet because I had a legitimate reason to stay. I still hadn’t come to terms with what exactly I was doing going to all these places. Traveling just for the sake of traveling? In my world this was unheard of; I had never known anyone who had done this. At least you must be going to school, at least you must be working, at least you must be volunteering, doing a program, visiting friends, something, anything! Otherwise it starts to seem like a long-term vacation, which is idleness, which is condemnable. What place can this have in our culture where what you produce defines who you are? Except I was being productive… in my own personal growth. But I had not yet come to value this as a justifiable way to invest my time.

So I lied to myself. I went to back to Chiang Mai, the city I had stayed in for my course, and found a comfortable room to rent in a Thai woman’s quaint teak home-converted-guest house. I met several nice people there and started to get to know the town by bicycle. For almost an entire month, I struggled with whether I would feel ok to postpone my return to the US by one year! I had thus far been successful in casting off the burden of unalterable plans, but this seemed like too much of a stretch from my original plan of returning to the US in mid-September after volunteering in India for a few weeks. I never thought it would be so soon that I would take such a long leave from seeing my family and friends. If I had already planned on settling I would have most certainly packed more than three shirts and three pairs of pants! So my heart wasn’t really in it when I sent emails inquiring about teaching jobs; I knew that the real way to get a job in Thailand is to show up in person and apply.

Anxiety continued to build until I felt ready to explode. Wasn’t I wasting time? Didn’t I just spend money on TWO flights back to this country on the premise of searching for jobs? If I left already, wouldn’t I regret not looking? I needed some peace of mind. That’s when I thought of something that had actually been on my mind since arriving in Asia: a meditation retreat. A 10-day foray into my own consciousness, foregoing communication with the outside world and postponing my progress in the job hunt… It seemed the epitome of selfishness, and was therefore very freeing. I finally was able to make the decision to take care of my own personal well-being without worrying about what else and who else I was taking care of.

I called the meditation center a friend had recommended to ask for information on retreats and the monk on the other end exclaimed “Hurry! One starts in 3 hours!” Nervous as all hell, but committed to the philosophy of “go with the flow” that I had recently begun pushing myself to use for the first time in my life, I agreed and hung up the phone. Swiftly, I packed and caught a taxi to the mall so that I could purchase the white clothes (even underwear!) that would be required from the moment of my initiation and onward until the end. I arrived at the temple grounds during the lunch hour and was met by the voice I had heard on the phone. A young Thai man wearing an orange robe and a huge smile greeted me in this serene setting of chedis, bells, and statues of the Buddha, all surrounded by lush greenery. He told me to eat and change into the white clothes and meet him at his office in two hours.

Two other foreigners around my age, a woman and a man, were waiting in the office. After introducing ourselves, the woman immediately mentioned that she felt she wouldn’t make it through the 10 days. “Well you definitely won’t if you think like that,” I thought to myself. Our monk returned and explained the procedure of the opening ceremony. We would enter the teacher’s room on our knees and bow in a certain way three times to the Buddha and then greet the teacher. We would then give offerings of flowers and incense. We would also need to smile visibly during the entire ritual. We practiced all of this several times, and then we were taught the meditation techniques we would be using. I was prepared for the retreat to be intense; however, I was not prepared for the actual form of the meditation to be intense. Although I still consider myself a beginner, I have had an introduction to meditation before, enough to use as a foundation for my current irregular practice. Having become accustomed to this way of meditating, the differences between the methods were clear. Where my familiar technique used some visualization, the Vipassana taught at the center mandated acknowledging feelings that arose and then again concentrating on sitting or walking. The differences, though small, were great enough that I struggled to try the new one, having to actively pull myself away from slipping into my default method; after all, the purpose of being there was to learn Vipassana meditation.

By the time of our initiation, I had had just about as much as I could take. I felt foolish that I had rushed into this; even though I had entertained the thought for a long period prior to actually going there, I thought it would have been more practical if my mind was not going through such an emotional turmoil in terms of determining my immediate future. I decided to go to the initiation anyway, because I hate quitting things and thought that somehow I would start feeling better about the retreat after the ceremony. The teacher was very nice and encouraged us afterwards to keep fighting, because he knew that the prospect of not eating dinner and getting only 6 hours of sleep would be hard for us. I was more concerned about the sitting, sitting, sitting, and walking, walking, walking that I would still have to do in my room until 10pm! When it became apparent that I was just as miserable in the retreat as I had been back at my room in the city with my thoughts, I decided that I had indeed been too rash jumping in as quickly as I did. I decided it was time to leave.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of a gong at 4am. I got out of bed and tried again to do the meditations, but my mind had ultimately been made up the night before. I knew I would not be able to find transport until later in the morning, and I also knew I would not like to eat breakfast at 6 (the food is collected every morning during alms rounds as donations from Buddhist followers outside the monastic community, and I felt that it would be wrong of me to benefit from this because I already intended to leave). I went back to sleep and woke up again at 7 to pack. I attended a closing ceremony of many others who were finishing a 20+ day retreat. I was able to converse with a friendly American female monk who suggested the name of a less intense form of meditation that I could look into before undertaking Vipassana again.

Heading back to town, I felt good about my decision to leave because I was finally hearing my own voice and making decisions that felt good for me. I could do things without worrying about what others would think. By the time I arrived back in town, it was 11am and I hadn’t eaten for the last 23 hours! I immediately went to seek out some chocolate pancakes. I settled back in at my rented room. Within two days I started a yoga class that would provide me 3 hours of practice every morning for a week. This was the perfect answer to my need for means to calm and center myself and organize my thoughts.

So good things did result from the short time I had spent in the meditation retreat. Most importantly, I decided that I felt confident to return home to the US and begin my internet search for year-long contracts to teach abroad, as I had originally planned. I had been away three and a half months, and I was satisfied with the experiences I had had thus far. There was only one other thing left that I had been really wanting to witness: the Festival of Light, Loy Krathong. As it would be taking place on the second of November, I would have to wait almost another two weeks, putting the length of my journey in over four months. I was sure it would be well worth it and I was thrilled that I wouldn’t be missing out. The only problem this created was with my Thai visa because my legal allotment of 30 days would soon be up. This was easily solved however, as all I would have to do to extend it would be to make a border run…