Meditation HallGetting a bit tired of the backpacker trail, Ulrik and I were looking to do something that would be both different and personally challenging. By chance, we happened upon a small blurb in our guide book about a 10-day silent meditation retreat -- that's right,
silent meditation -- that is held once a month at a
monastery just outside
Chaiya in Southern Thailand. We read about it just before we were to cross the Malaysia/Thailand border, and the next retreat was to start in three days ... talk about timing! And we were pretty much going to pass through Chaiya anyway as it is on Thailand's east coast on the way to Koh Tao, the island where we had lived for almost a year in 2000/2001 and where we had wanted to stop for a visit. It was almost like it was meant to be.
Although the timing and geography were perfect, however, we weren't entirely sure this 'different' was what we were looking for. Neither of us is particularly religious and neither of us has ever done any sort of meditation. And, some would say, neither of us is a particularly deep thinker! Unfortunately, I don't think we focused enough on the 'meditation' part of the retreat when considering whether or not to do it. Instead, we prepared ourselves for the other aspects of the retreat, specifically the basic living conditions and the continuous silence. And since we both agreed that we could handle the monastic lifestyle for 10 days, we decided to go for it.
Although the retreat technically starts on the 1st of the month, it actually starts the day before. The last day of the month is registration day. We read the paperwork, agreed to the
rules, filled in the appropriate forms, attended an orientation session, got settled in our new digs, and listened to the welcome speech. At the end of the welcome speech, a bell was rung. The retreat, and the silence, had officially begun.
sitting meditation areaLee's ImpressionsI am sure most of you who read that Ulrik and I did a five-day retreat that required total silence will probably fall off your seats laughing. The idea that I, a renowned chatterbox, could keep silent for one day let alone five probably seems impossible to you. But when Ulrik and I were first considering the retreat, this was the one aspect that I really wasn't worried about. Yes, I talk
a lot, and yes, I do tend to go on and on and on .... But I also like to be quiet. I enjoy silence. So I really didn't think that the 'silent' part of the retreat would be that difficult. For some reason, however, I didn't really consider the 'meditation' part of the retreat before the retreat began. Maybe because it was so obvious? But it very quickly became apparent that I am not a meditator.
When I was supposed to be meditating "on the breathing" (called
anapanasati), I would focus on my breathing for one or two breaths, but would quickly become distracted. By the birds that would fly around meditation hall, by the breeze, by the clouds, by thoughts of things in the past, by thoughts of what I would do during our few breaks, etc., etc., etc. As you can see, I was focused on pretty much anything and everything other than my breathing. The only times I wasn't distracted by my external or internal surroundings were the times when I fell asleep. Yes, that's right ... the one thing I learned during the retreat was how to sleep sitting up on a hard little pillow. (It's actually quite easy; you bend your legs, wrap your arms around your calves, rest your head on your knees, and BOOM! it's beddy-bye time.) I never
meant to fall asleep -- in fact, during a personal interview I asked how to prevent this -- but combine only six-and-a-half hours of sleep a night, bright sunshine and hot weather, and listening to Dhamma talks that are difficult to follow and delivered in a very metronomic cadence and most people will be sawing logs in no time.
Aside from the challenges of meditation, though, I really enjoyed my time at
Suan Mokkh. The setting is really lovely, all greenery and ponds. The silence was, far from being a challenge, a really nice change. Since no one could talk, no one could gossip or say things in ways that could be interpreted negatively. Waking at 4:00am was not as much of a struggle as I had thought. In fact, my favourite time of the day was doing yoga as the sun rose. I slept remarkably well on the concrete bed and wooden pillow. And eating only twice a day was not a difficult adjustment at all; in fact, I was surprised to realize when I thought about it after the retreat was over that I didn't experience a single craving. Not once did I think about my morning coffee, potato chips, sweets, or even just wanting a dinner-time meal -- that was a surprise. So although I didn't catch on to the meditation and didn't even come close to achieving enlightenment I am really happy to have had this experience.
Yes, that's our 'mattress' and, yes,
that's a solid cement bed that it's laid on.Ulrik's ImpressionsGetting up at 4:00am? No problem, the temperature is so much more reasonable at that time of the day. Not being able to leave the premises during the retreat? No sweat, I don't know a soul in Chaiya anyway. Eat only twice a day? Great, after eating rather well in Singapore and Malaysia I can afford to lose a few pounds. Not talk for the duration of the retreat? Anyone who's ever traveled in Southeast Asia understands the value of silence. Sleep on a concrete bed with a wooden pillow? No worries; I've never really been a fan of overly soft beds and I quite enjoyed the back support. Very basic cell-like accommodations with shared
mandi (a tub of cold water from which you scoop and pour over your head) for bathing? Can't be any worse than what we experienced in Indonesia.
The communal shower area ... and washing up area ... and laundry area ...I didn't find it overly difficult to adjust to the lifestyle restrictions and 'sacrifices' at the monastery. It was kind of nice not having to worry about anything or having to make decisions more difficult than what to wear that day (which wasn't that difficult either as I mostly wore the standard 'uniform' of white cotton shirt and fisherman pants), After a couple of days, though, I started to get seriously bored. We spent most of the day meditating or listening to Dhamma talks (Buddhist teachings), and I never really got into either one. Although I like the idea of training the brain to be more focused, I just can't sit on my butt for such extended periods of time (we were sitting about eight hours a day). The talks themselves were frustrating because, with the exception of one
farang (foreign) monk, it was very difficult to understand the speakers' English. And the parables they would use to to illustrate their points often made no sense to me. I think discussing the talks with the other participants would have helped but, of course, talking wasn't allowed.
Living in such close quarters, I found there were some pretty cool characters I would have liked to have gotten to know. There was the guy with dread locks and tribal tattoos all over his body; there was the guy who was planning on going to Burma to do a meditation retreat for six months (we spoke with him briefly on the drive to the retreat centre); and there was the guy who would practice some serious kung-fu moves with a broom stick every afternoon. Alas, I will never know more about them.
Our wooden pillow ... we slept surprisingly well on it!By the end of the fourth day I had had all the Dhamma and meditating I could stomach. I felt it would be best to call it quits before I 'forgot' Buddha's first precept about not killing any living being. I slipped Lee a note in secret -- it was just like in high school! -- telling her that I was thinking of leaving the following morning. I wasn't sure what her thoughts were and where she was in all this meditating stuff, but it turned out that she was reaching the same point as me. Although she was prepared to leave early, she asked me to stay an extra day (day 5) in order to complete at least half the retreat. I agreed, and I spent the time packing and thinking about our return to the 'real' world. Even though I was ready to leave and even though it had only been five days, I also felt a bit anxious about being 'on the outside'. Is this -- on a much smaller scale, of course -- how people feel when they're about to be released from prison?
All in all, it was a good experience. All the staff were very nice, and although we had only two meals every day, they were pretty tasty. We even had hot chocolate at tea time. And as you can see from the pictures Lee took, the grounds were very picturesque and it was a nice place to meander around. Even though I didn't get the hang of meditation or gain any additional understanding about Buddhism, I might look at both again in the future. Perhaps I might even be up for another retreat?
One final thought: Prince Siddhartha (ca. 563 BC to 483 BC), who is considered to be the historical founder of Buddhism, had no less than 40,000 girl friends and three palaces, all of which he gave up to live an ascetic life and achieve Nirvana. He also had one wife, which might help explain his decision ....
For more photos, see our Thailand photo album.
