More Dispatches from the Magic Mountain

...seems like it happens again and again with the meditation thing...every time I think I’m getting somewhere...or, y’know getting nowhere since there’s nowhere you need to go...opening things up, going DEEP, it goes haywire...seems all I can do is fidget...can’t get past the minor discomforts of the surface...as there’s some kind of hyper-vigilant sub-conscious life-guard blowing his whistle, yelling “come back in, there’s rocks out there, there’s sharks, go too deep and you could drown”...
 

...Jack Kornfield compares training the mind to training a puppy, but the mind’s a lot harder to train, and makes much bigger messes...

...two or three yoga classes a day, in between lengthy program sessions of intense meditation and discussion of compassion and mindfulness...sympathetic joy and trauma...loneliness and equanimity...kale and tempeh...peace and trauma...empathy and rage...

Show me that I’m everywhere and get me home for tea...

George Harrison
 

...didn’t even know it was officially contemplative week at Kripalu...so not only are we generally expected to be quiet within our group...with a suggestion to be totally silent for the week...but the dining hall is silent for all meals, and hallways are mostly filled with whispers...while I, of course, am committing what’s gotta be pretty much the ultimate in apostasy for a meditation retreat...multi-tasking...here both for the retreat and to reconnect with friends from the teacher training two years ago...so, y’know, I couldn’t, like, not talk to them....today, we were supposed to be practicing mindful eating at lunch, but I wanted to meet up with my friend for the noon vigorous vinyasa class, which left me really hungry and with less than fifteen minutes to eat...so I wolfed down a tray-full of stuff with great abandon, just mindful enough to have some consciousness of the fuller experience I was missing...

Late, by myself, in the boat of myself,
no light and no land anywhere,
cloud cover thick. I try to stay
just above the surface, yet I’m already under
and living within the ocean.
Rumi (Coleman Barks, trans.)

...Wednesday morning...not feeling my best...(though, admittedly, it’s kinda like that bumper sticker about the worst day fishing vs. the best day at work)...woken by the alarm...6:15...best not to remind myself I don’t actually have to go to yoga class...gentle yoga...not gentle enough for the stiff, sleepy curmudgeon...then breakfast...pretty good, but disappointing after the French toast yesterday...then on to the first session...incessant sitting makes my knees hurt more every day...and I’m even sleepier than I was in yoga class...and who the hell cares what Thomas Merton said?....then walking meditation...I hate walking meditation and he’s telling us to go outside where it’s snowing, and I didn’t even bring shoes...they’re back in the room with my jacket and hat...at least it’s better than more sitting...go to the room, then outside...walk mindfully, matching footsteps to the in-breath and out-breath...across the grass and down the hill...to the spontaneous realization that everything I see, everything that exists, is infinitely, unspeakably beautiful....notice after a while that everybody else has gone back inside...guess I missed the bell, again...make my way back up the hill...

...cloud hidden, whereabouts unknown...

Van Morrison, Alan Watts Blues

...Friday morning, now...major snow storm blowing in...no way I’m driving home in that...guess I’m trapped at Kripalu ’til it’s over...nothin’ to do but sign up for a weekend vinyasa workshop...stay ’til Sunday...as misfortunes go, it’s not bad...

I'm Not a Buddhist. Am I Still a Buddhist?*

...I find Use Extreme Caution signs strange....I mean, if you’re not huddled ‘neath the covers all day in a fetal position, can your level of caution really be called extreme?...

They always throw around this term ‘the liberal elite.’ And I kept thinking to myself about the Christian right. What’s more elite than believing that only you will go to heaven?
Jon Stewart

...every now and then, I’ll run into former clients from the rehab....usually, they’ll smile, call out my name, maybe give me a hug....except for a couple times, on the sidewalk near a yoga studio I frequent, which just happens to be just around the corner from a methadone clinic....there, eyes avoid me, feet walk rapidly away...ironically enough, telling exactly what they don’t want me to know...revealing through the very act of attempting to hide...

To touch the soul of another human being is to walk on holy ground.
Stephen Covey

...1987, leaning against my backpack on a traffic island outside Rome, my friend and I taking turns sticking our thumbs out, heading down to Pompeii to touch ancient history, admire ancient mosaics, and wander around the place Pink Floyd played....he asked if I wanted to read a book he had...An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, by D. T. Suzuki....thoroughly uninterested in Eastern philosophy, meditation, spirituality, or any of that kinda crap, I was, nonetheless, just bored enough to say yeah, sure....a lot’s happened since then....I meditate every day and recently dug out my old Alan Watts (purchased some time after returning from Europe in ’87 or ’88)...but still have no interest in being a Buddhist...

Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son,
Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding...
Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

...letting go of preconceptions makes things a lot more mysterious...beyond labels, stereotypes, and convenient boxes, each person you meet as wondrously and terrifyingly, inscrutably complex as the paradoxes of infinity....and this, of course, is precisely why we come up with all those labels, stereotypes, and boxes....it’s just a lot easier to check off white black liberal conservative Democrat Republican hipster Buddhist Christian yogi cynic or even yoga cynic than to try and fathom a cosmos...


* ...title originally incarnated, humbly enough, as a comment on a Facebook post about an Elephant Journal article titled
I Don’t Believe in Reincarnation. Am I Still a Buddhist?...