So Many Paths

"I could never be a Buddhist. I don't see how you can sit still for so long!" - My dear friend Chylene, after attending a meditation retreat with me today.

Day 208. I just returned from a six-hour Vipassana (clear seeing) meditation retreat. Five periods of sitting meditation, including a period of Metta meditation, which is the practice of cultivating loving kindness and compassion in ourselves and others. We alternated sitting meditation with ten to fifteen minutes of kinhin (walking meditation). Dharma talk followed by a question and answer period. Good stuff. Gassho, Arpita, for your wisdom and experience.

It was delectably powerful to sit in the presence of twenty-odd other people. Other than Chylene, I did not know anyone personally. It was a silent retreat, so we were not conversing aloud. There is, however, a unique communal experience when you sit silent meditation with others. Verbal exchange is rendered entirely unnecessary. Showing up, sitting with intent, breathing together in respectful silence is a profound mechanism for connection. Even if the retreat was not a silent one, I doubt there would be much to say.

I first practiced kinhin many years ago with my teacher Frank. He instructed our small sangha in a very precise method of walking meditation. Our hands are held in a specific mudra balanced carefully in front of our belly button (thumb tucked in one fist with the other hand wrapped around, thumb resting on top). The movement of walking is slowed to the point that a minute can lapse between the placing of one foot and the lifting of the other. Attention is focused on every nuance of the lifting, swinging forward, and placing of each foot. When my consciousness is particularly acute, I can draw a parallel between the moment when one foot is raised, balanced in the air before I touch it down in front of me, and that magical pause between an inhale and exhale. I believe that those moments are where Life resides.

Then and now, I adore walking meditation. I inhabit my body so fiercely, movement is an indelible fit as a form of meditation. The energy discharge is just enough to effectively silence the Monkeys. I ease into deep meditation during kinhin. Place, time and people fade away. My mind focuses like angels on a pin head; all that exists is the feel of my foot as it lifts, suspends, and gently touches down on the firm, solid earth. Mind and body almost fall away, save for a little ego marveling at the strength in my core after three years of Pilates.

I was rested, peaceful and clear at the completion of the day. Our teacher mentioned that in her lineage, her teacher had sometimes instructed the students to envision their mind as a "clear forest pool." Something about that phrase "Clear Forest Pool" triggered a deep sense of calm and clarity for me. I liked moving my mind in the direction of a clear pool, surrounded by towering, magnificent trees. Two significant epiphanies arose during the day. I may write about them one day.

I left the retreat feeling rock solid in my "home" as a Buddhist. Validated, energized, centered. Highly motivated for renewed energy devoted to reading, meditating, and participating in a community with others who sit. Imagine my surprise when the first words out of Chylene's mouth were, "I could never be a Buddhist! I don't see how you sit still for so long!" I chuckled and replied, "Yep. Buddhism ain't for the wimpy!"

Funny thing is, Chylene regularly sweats for all four rounds in a traditional Native American sweat lodge, where the temperature far exceeds 100 degrees. On the slightly cooler earthen floor, she crouches, sweaty skin to sweaty skin, with other women of the lodge as they sing, chant, pray, and commune with ancestral visitors. With respect for refraining from comparing spiritual practices, I must observe that this form of worship ain't for the wimpy, either. The essence of both forms of spirituality is their welcoming attitude and unconditional respect for alternative practices. Chylene and I show up for one another, teaching and learning and mutually exchanging what we believe in our hearts. We believe the same thing. We all find our home in the One Great Love.

Sitting, walking, sweating, chanting. So many paths. Infinite journeys. All of them leading us home.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc