I’m recently back from a 10-day Buddhist meditation retreat, an irregularly annual event since 1989.
Growing up in San Francisco exposed me to a wide range of cultures and beliefs, and laid the foundation for healthy open-mindedness. My family was culturally Catholic and I attended Catholic grammar and high school, and I was even an Altar boy (now called Altar servers) who served at St. Brigid and St. Mary’s Cathedral.
Unfortunately for the Vatican, I credit my interest in Buddhism to my Catholic education. By the time I graduated high school I had a keen interest in learning Buddhist meditation practices.
The style of meditation I do is called Vipassana, which consists of focusing the awareness on bodily sensations, in contrast to meditation practices that incorporate visualization or chanting (like Transcendental Meditation). In addition to providing mental tools for strengthening awareness, Vipassana also emphasizes the cultivation of compassion. Recent studies of “expert” meditators in this tradition seem to show that their brains are more highly developed in empathy that non or novice meditators. (Read more, more, and even more.)
After a meditation retreat, I feel like the reset button on my mind has been pushed.
There are several flavors of Vipassana. Here in the U.S., Insight Meditation is a well-known practice, and this variation is taught by Jack Kornfield and Joseph Goldstein, who have both written a number of books about meditation.
The style I do is taught by S.N. Goenka, a Burmese of Indian descent. He was taught by meditation master Sayagyi U Ba Khin.
While I lived in Japan in the late 1980’s, I happened to read What the Buddha Taught by Walpola Rahula. After finishing, I was determined to find out a way to learn Vipassana meditation. As fate would have it, right about that time a friend who had just completed his first Vipassana meditation course stayed with me for a few days and gave me the information I needed to take a course myself.
These retreats are very rigorous. At the beginning of the retreat, participants take 5 (for first-timers) to 8 (for experienced meditators) vows including a vow not to speak lies (which effectively becomes a vow of silence), a vow not to take intoxicants, and a vow of complete celibacy. Each day consists of approximately 11 hours of meditation that begins at 4:30 AM and ends at 9:00 PM. On the fourth day, three of the hours become “sittings of strong determination” (Adhiṭṭhāna), during which you try not move at all. This practice enables the meditator to develop the unflinching resolution needed to calm and purify the mind.
I meditate to try to develop my saintly, spiritual qualities, limited though they may be. But, now having worked at it for almost 20 years, I clearly understand that nirvana and enlightenment, whatever these are, are a long ways off for me. In the meantime, I think that the meditation practice helps me in a practical way every day by giving me a mental foundation that better enables me to handle the ups and downs of life.
I also think that my cycling and athletic pursuits benefit. Sitting on a cushion for a 11 hours a day cultivates a kind of psychological endurance that transfers to distance events. If you can calmly sit observing the chaos of your own mind for 11 hours a day for 10 days, you can do almost anything.