"But what do you want?" asked Loren my oldest and dearest friend as we sat in her courtyard supping on a painfully strong spiced spirit drink she had picked up from some monastry in Southern Mongolia. "What I want... is to be without want" I said smiling internally at having made a profound yet very true, statement in the presence of someone I deem infinately more atriculate than myself. I took a sip from my glass, grimaced, shivered and sighed. There it was. The dream for my future in one sentance.
I had just told Loren that I intended to quit my stable, rewading and interesting job the following day to go to India. She, as a good friend does, had invited me around to get ridiculously drunk and explain my sudden and unprecendented reallocation of priorities.
And here I find myself. I've been in India for 5 or so weeks and more importantly I've spent the last 10 days observing the complete silence and lifestyle of a Vipassana monk in an ashram called Dhamma Setu just 80kms outside of Chennai in India's South.
I had just told Loren that I intended to quit my stable, rewading and interesting job the following day to go to India. She, as a good friend does, had invited me around to get ridiculously drunk and explain my sudden and unprecendented reallocation of priorities.
And here I find myself. I've been in India for 5 or so weeks and more importantly I've spent the last 10 days observing the complete silence and lifestyle of a Vipassana monk in an ashram called Dhamma Setu just 80kms outside of Chennai in India's South.
I starated to write a lengthy account of my time in Dhamma Setu in this blog space but as I got into it I realised, that for the most part it would bore the the pants off you (and not in the good way). Below are some anechdotes from my time there. Its still pretty long but I did my best :o)
The South Indian Shuffle
This is the unique toes out, knees out, lurching, zombie-like stumble of the meditator who has been sitting cross legged for 2 hours without pause. Chorused by the grinds, clicks and pops of audibly enraged joints this activty is best performed with ones fist firmly planted in support of what appears to be a now perminently hunched spine.
Papaya Day
For 4 days our diet remained identical. A gluey flavour de-riched semolina mush, overcooked rice and vegitable curry-like mush for breakfast and lunch and a popcorn like substance with a banana for dinner. On the 5th day the evening meal contained a slice of papaya. Now, I've never really been a banner waiver for papaya. To me its always been a fruit that occasionally comes in 'tropical' flavoured things and used to be free when I worked at a fruit and veg shop when I was a uni student in NSW. But after 4 days of sensory deprivation that papaya was a source of unrivalled joy. I trembled with delight as the sticky juices flowed between my fingers and down my palm. When that sweet frangraced flesh hit my mouth. Such delight! Such an ecstacy of sensation. Ahh papaya day. What a day!
The Conviction of Colin McCurley
Vipassana meditation aims to focus the mind on the natural vibrations of the body. You find that the body has stored many experiences and memories in a phsical way and has learned predetermined ways (though past experience) to react to situations in life. Often one stores a 'Sankara" which is a craving or aversion experienced in the past which the body remembers and continues to react to when new situations arise in life. Sensory deprivation and continuous focus enables one to become in tune with these vibrations of the body. A simple example might be, if someone is bitten by a dog in childhood one can develop a sankara or aversion to dogs and so may become frightened and flinch when they hear a dog bark or panic when one comes towards them even if its not vicious. These Sankaras influence our decisions and reactions and essentially cause us mysery at a core level. Vipassana gives you an avenue to unlock th truth of these sankaras and through meditative control and by reeducating the body's reaction one can stop a sankara from cycling out of control IE After years of the minor aversion to dogs compounding, the person can no longer leave the house and is panic stricken at the thought of going outside or becomes hyseterical when walking past a park.
When you meditate you can use what is called a meditation 'cell' which is a toilet room sized room with white walls where you sit and are not distracted in any way. This should help one focus the mind. When i stepped into my cell sat down and closed my eyes a panic hit me. "Prisoners belong in cells. murderers and rapists belong in cells!" and although I knew there was no lock on the door and my exit was not barred I found myself a sobing whimpering mess within a few minutes and even cried out for my "daddy".
I was shocked by my own reaction having even worked in a prison a few years back i had no idea why i would panic like this. The next day when meditating my mind was racked by a violent rape scene and again I was shocked. I had never been raped nor had i ever witnessed a rape! What was this memory? And then through further meditation the realisation hit me The Conviction of Colin McCurley.
I was 20 years old and worked an evening shift at a market research company in Northbridge. I shared an office with a 40 something year old guy who was a delight to work with and would drive me home after work 3 nights a week to save me from the dangers of catching a train alone at night as it was "on his way anyway".
One day Colin didn't show up for work, that day became a week and after 3 weeks my boss called me into his office. My boss showed me a newspaper article from The West Australian. Colin McCurley had been convicted and sentaced to 8 years in prison. His crime; He had kept a woman drugged and bound in a rented apartment in Fremantle. The woman was 20 years old with long dark hair. She had been held hostage for 2 months. The time entire time in which Colin had been driving me home from work. He had been working and talking and building a friendship with me, dropping me off at home and then going to the apartment and raping her. I ran to the staff room and threw up everywhere.
At that time, I had been sleeping with Clinton for a year and he was still promising me he would break up with his girlfriend 'when the time is right'. I had just returned from a trip around Japan with my mentaly unwell brother and my very annoying house mate Pete was living on our couch and refusing to go to work to avoid paying maintenence for his 2 year old son whlst planning a European tour with his band. The ex boyfriend, my one true love had left me for another woman. It broke me.
I had pinpointed the one moment in my life when I gave up on men. At that point and through a series of later circumstances I had come to see all men as flawed, weak and gave up on the idea of "a nice guy". Like when you stop beleiving in Santa Claus. Nice guys had become a myth and all of them were corrupt on the inside. 5 years work in women's health had further compounded this and as I continued to meditate so many storys came to my mind. An old boss, an upstanding Christian citizen who threw himself off a highrise when his wife left him because of his addiction to prostitutes the guy who told me I was the most beautiful, amazing woman he'd ever met and then had sex with my friend the next night. The guy who slit his wrists in a park after telling me he had feeling for me and then abused me when I made him seek psychiatric help. My life had become a story influenced by one male fuck wit after another.
This Sankara was so deeply and profoundly established in me that I had come to a point in my life where I had begin to both hate all men and pine for the myth of the 'nice guy' so much that my whole life is a cycling mess of conflicting fears. I worked for days on this. Unravelling my fears, diescting my decisions one after another the choices I had made in life, the men I brought into my life, the constructs of so many acts I had carried out since had been influenced by the one shattering act of Colin McCurley and my own reaction to this man's hideous crime.
The truth of my own false knowledge. The power of my own compounded mysery. The healing, soothing and calming of my body that could occur when this truth was realised. Thus was my liberation through Vipassana.
The glory of love.
The 10 days was gruelling, hard continuous work that constantly toyed in the rhelms of . Day 4 I was meditating (of course) focusing my mind to hone in on my personal sadness, I'd been through a lot that day and somehow my instincts kicked in with some self soothing. These are some are the sensory experiences that popped into my mind:
The glory, as stunning as a sunrise, that can be seen in Loren's eyes when her pixy-like face fills with a full smile. That smile says "Mischief is about to occur and its going to be FANTASTIC!"
The incredible beauty in Jay's face when she is dancing. As her flushed face moves amongst a tangle of hair her whole essence seems to embody freedom.
The complete, satisfying and comforting smell of my mums hair when she gives me a really squeesy hug.
Tenille's deliciously devlish laugh that without words in any language tells an entire story of joy.
Sharng a glass of good red wine over a relaxed conversation on a cool summer's evening with Lisa.
The way my grandad lifts his feet off the floor and rubs his hands together before telling a great story or joke and the way my grandma rests her hand on his shoulder and smiles at me when I'm drinking a cup of tea.
The way my dad drinks tea through a straw and listens intently and seriously to everything I have to say without a trace of judgement.
The way Nathan assumes complete control of my kitchen when he comes around for dinner and unveils the ingredients of what he intends to cook in tupperware containers with performance-like enthusiasm.
The chorus of laughter my friends make when they all sit around eating and drinking together. The way ethusiastic dancing and singing always sporadicly errupts.
The way Kieran and Callum's toothy, eyes shut, rosy cheeked smile is exactly the same and appears at exactly the same time.
The scotch and honey sound of barry's husky smooth singing voice when he sings Jay's favourite lullabye. "Hush-a-bye, lullabye, time to go to sleep now my baby"
Madeleine laugh. Madeleine's wonderfuly mad and heart warming laugh!
These are just a few and they are not in any particular order. These are treasures at my core which I cherish and it appears, are able to pick me up from the bottom, dust me off and throw me back onto the dance floor of life.
The 10 days was gruelling, hard continuous work that constantly toyed in the rhelms of . Day 4 I was meditating (of course) focusing my mind to hone in on my personal sadness, I'd been through a lot that day and somehow my instincts kicked in with some self soothing. These are some are the sensory experiences that popped into my mind:
The glory, as stunning as a sunrise, that can be seen in Loren's eyes when her pixy-like face fills with a full smile. That smile says "Mischief is about to occur and its going to be FANTASTIC!"
The incredible beauty in Jay's face when she is dancing. As her flushed face moves amongst a tangle of hair her whole essence seems to embody freedom.
The complete, satisfying and comforting smell of my mums hair when she gives me a really squeesy hug.
Tenille's deliciously devlish laugh that without words in any language tells an entire story of joy.
Sharng a glass of good red wine over a relaxed conversation on a cool summer's evening with Lisa.
The way my grandad lifts his feet off the floor and rubs his hands together before telling a great story or joke and the way my grandma rests her hand on his shoulder and smiles at me when I'm drinking a cup of tea.
The way my dad drinks tea through a straw and listens intently and seriously to everything I have to say without a trace of judgement.
The way Nathan assumes complete control of my kitchen when he comes around for dinner and unveils the ingredients of what he intends to cook in tupperware containers with performance-like enthusiasm.
The chorus of laughter my friends make when they all sit around eating and drinking together. The way ethusiastic dancing and singing always sporadicly errupts.
The way Kieran and Callum's toothy, eyes shut, rosy cheeked smile is exactly the same and appears at exactly the same time.
The scotch and honey sound of barry's husky smooth singing voice when he sings Jay's favourite lullabye. "Hush-a-bye, lullabye, time to go to sleep now my baby"
Madeleine laugh. Madeleine's wonderfuly mad and heart warming laugh!
These are just a few and they are not in any particular order. These are treasures at my core which I cherish and it appears, are able to pick me up from the bottom, dust me off and throw me back onto the dance floor of life.
In Summary
The release of this anger and fear leaves me feeling lighter and freer than ever. Not that I now believe that all men are wonderful, simply I hope to be able to see the reality of individuals and hope to have the power to better control my choices and actions in future. I feel I can face, without fear, the possibility of working in an environment with both men and women, a limitation that has seen me avoiding my potential for sometime. This, I believe made the aching joints from 12 hours a day sitting cross legged, the misery of loneliness and the unending boredom of bland food and meal times spent alone worthwhile. Lets hope its worked!
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