I heard about Sesshin from a Zen Buddhist monk that sends newsletters out to followers. Sesshin (pronounced se-sheen’) is a Buddhist Silent Retreat consisting of alternating sitting and walking meditations that basically last all day for a series of days (usually seven – although this one would only be from Friday – Monday totaling apx 2.5 days). The idea of being in meditation for an extended period was appealing to me and I signed on for the deal – having no idea of what to expect but figuring it would be a good way to strengthen my contemplative practice. Lest you be misguided by the word “retreat” let me make you aware right up front that this was by no means related to a “spa retreat” as in a “relaxing getaway”.  This was going to be serious work – that much I knew but I was unprepared for the intensity of the experience.  I will give you an outline of the schedule here:

Friday:

• 4:30 Arrival/Room Assignment
• 5:00 Orientation
• 6:00 dinner
• 7:00 sitting meditation
• 7:30 walking meditation
• 8:00 sitting meditation
• 8:30 End of day

Saturday:

• 6:00 wake up
• 6:30 sitting meditation
• 7:00 walking meditation
• 7:30 sitting meditation
• 8:00 breakfast
• 9:30 sitting meditation
• 10:00 walking meditation
• 10:30 sitting meditation
• 11:00 walking meditation
• 11:30 sitting meditation
• 12:00 Dharma talk
• 12:30 lunch
• 3:00 sitting meditation
• 3:30 walking meditation
• 4:00 sitting meditation
• 4:30 walking meditation
• 5:00 sitting meditation
• 5:30 walking meditation
• 6:00 dinner
• 7:00 sitting meditation
• 7:30 walking meditation
• 8:00 sitting meditation
• 8:30 End of day

Sunday:

• repeat Saturday schedule

Monday:

• 6:00 wake up
• 6:30 sitting meditation
• 7:00 walking meditation
• 7:30 sitting meditation
• 8:00 breakfast
• 9:00 clean up & depart in silence

I was under no illusion that the experience would be easy.  Nevertheless, it was appealing to me.  If you know me or have been following my blogs you know that I am always seeking enlightenment – whatever that means.  It sounded like a rigorous but promising plan.  And so I set forth.

I arrived at the house and was assigned a room.  I was also made aware of the complete set of rules:

• Complete silence unless speaking to the monk at prescribed times – i.e., questions during Dharma talk or at daily 10 minute appointment time with the monk
• Keep head down
• No looking at other participants
• No gestures or signing or any form of silent communication with others
• Sitting meditations would be facing a blank wall
• Receive assignments regarding kitchen clean up duty each day
• Sign up for prescribed chores each day
• Relinquish cell phone to the monk
• No reading or journaling allowed

I took a breath and nodded my head. I had committed to this and I would comply.

Our Zendo had been set up on a screened porch.  The temperature was warm that first evening and my body decided to add a hot flash for a little added excitement. By the end of the evening I was a sweaty mess and I went to bed wondering if it would be inappropriate to sleep in the nude.  I was also disappointed to realize that I was already beginning to wonder what the hell I’d gotten myself into?  And it was only the first day! Lord help me!

I slept very little that night. I was miserably hot, incapable of sleeping longer than an hour at a time and when I did sleep I had awful dreams that I could not remember on waking. Mostly I found myself lying awake, staring into the dark with anxious, racing thoughts. Ugh. So much for enlightenment.

During our brief introduction to the Sesshin by our guru he mentioned the importance of posture. I had injured my hip a few months prior and had already discussed with him via email my reluctance to sit in a lotus position on a traditional Zafu for hours on end. The monk had told me that sitting in a chair would be permissible but in person he mentioned that whenever he sat in a chair for meditation he sat forward and toward the edge of the chair in order to maintain a more erect posture – so that bones were stacked on bones rather than straining muscles. In his defense he did add that if we were not used to sitting in this way Sesshin might not be a good place to begin using that posture. But what my mind registered was “how the monk did it” – because, of course, I was moving toward enlightenment and if that’s how a monk sits then that’s how I’m going to sit.  Period.  To say that was a mistake would be an understatement.  By the end of Saturday my back was screaming in pain. To quote the Buddha himself: “Work out your own salvation. Do not depend on others.” These words hit me square in the face as if the great sage had spoken directly to me: “Linda, step out of this monk’s tracks. His journey is not yours.”  And the next morning in sitting meditation guess what?  I resumed my usual meditation posture and my back was MUCH happier.  Duh.

On Sunday I was assigned to “spiff up” the Zendo and I was honored to do it. I entered the sacred space with a gassho (a ritual gesture with hands pressed together in front of the chest) and a bow and set about folding blankets, straightening pillows and sweeping leaves that the wind had ushered in.  I was completely present to the moment, the space, and the task. When I finished sweeping the last tiny leaf out the screened door I turned to see more tiny leaves had fluttered in and were now littering the rug here and there and everywhere.  The tree droppings were small and looked like the little wings from a lightning bug. I wondered what kind of tree they belonged to and set about picking them up by hand.  After I had gathered a handful of them and deposited them outside the screened porch I saw a half a dozen more.  Geez! How did they get in so quickly, so stealthily?  I began to focus on the invading leaves and to feel very annoyed.  The more I focused on picking up the fragile things the more there seemed to be – one here; another there; one on the pillow I had just fluffed; two in the corner I had just swept. Oh, dear! The monk would think I had not done my job. My fellow participants might think I’d done a lousy job. Suddenly it occurred to me that I was no longer in the present moment – rather I had lost sight of my overall previously joyful task, had become quite irritated, and had projected myself into the future where I was worried what others would think of me. And with that sharp realization a thought dropped into my head: “A place does not have to be perfect to be holy.”  Wow. And in the clarity of that perfect moment I considered my task completed to satisfaction. Gassho.

In walking meditation I find it easier to contemplate than to meditate. While walking it is difficult to stay focused on the present moment because so many things are happening.  Sitting meditation is usually peaceful, often restful, and sometimes blissful.  Do I stay present?  Sometimes. Sometimes not. There are those times when I wander off inside my head to make a list of things I want to do or I tumble into a memory or fly away into complete fantasy. I have been meditating long enough to know that will happen and I no longer scold myself or feel like a failure as a meditator. I’m a human and it’s what the mind does as a human. When I find that I’ve wandered off somewhere I simply bring myself back to the moment. 

During one sitting meditation I had a most unusual experience. It has been difficult to wrap my mind around what happened and even harder to articulate.  I was sitting peacefully, listening to birds singing and calling, squirrels chattering, an occasional dog barking, leaves stirring in the trees, wind moving through the Zendo, a boat going by on the lake, a couple of fisherman calling to one another.  As I listened and sensed what was happening all around me I seemed to see myself – or perhaps a better word would be “sensed” myself – opening to embrace the birds, the trees, the wind, everything.  And as I opened I expanded.  My expansion became ever so wide – until it embraced all things, as if I were the Universe rather than a body with a boundary.  Words came into my head, “Everything is in me…” And then the words, “I am in everything…”  The words resounded softly over and over and became a mantra that went on and on like a peaceful rhythm.  The moment extended until we began the next Walking meditation and it drummed on inside my head as a soothing undercurrent mantra that repeated itself with every step until at last it died away……..Initially the whole thing nearly took my breath away and it still does a little whenever I think of it.  Do I think it was enlightenment?  Well, maybe not but I feel pretty sure that a curtain had been drawn back enough for me to peek through to see what is possible.  The mystical experience was enough to make me glad I had decided to participate in the adventure.  I am grateful for it even if it never happens again.  And I am wise enough to know that I should not expect such occurrences on a regular basis – or indeed ever again. I believe it was a gift from what Buddha would call the Dharma – or what others might think of as “a force” – perhaps a Higher Power – or as writer Anne Lamott suggested “Howard be thy name”.  I prefer to think of it as the Divine. 

All in all Sesshin was hard – really hard.  But it was also beautiful. I drove away pondering and processing those days spent in silence and meditation. Perhaps I will be doing that for a long while yet to come.