By Edwin Decenteceo
Since this year’s 7-day retreat in Chung Tai was not my first, I feel it would be better to view my time there as only one point in my Buddhist journey. (When I joined the half-day retreat at Ocean Sky in April, that would be another point in the journey.
Connecting all these points are the classes and meditation sessions which I attended at Ocean Sky. My brief chats with the Abbess and the other Shifus are another part of this journey.)
There were many challenges at the start. One of the first challenges was the physical aspect of sitting meditation. It was only recently that I could sit in half-lotus. Five years of ashtanga yoga was not enough to prepare me to sit without feeling discomfort that was strongly distracting. My mental habits presented another challenge. Since my work involves talking to people for about an hour, I’ve developed an internal clock that tells me when the hour is coming to a close. Without looking at my watch, I can tell that the talk session has lasted for about 40-45 minutes, which means I should begin to wrap up the session—which is of course how long a meditation session lasts.
I also realized that as soon as I wake up, I begin to plan my whole day. My early morning meditation sessions were struggles to stop myself from planning my day’s events. My mind is also constantly replaying events or rehearsing events. All night long, I am sensitive to the sounds and smells around the house: Is a creaking that I hear just a branch blown by the wind or is it an intruder climbing our fence; Are the dogs barking at another dog or a cat or a possible burglar; Do I smell a leaking gas stove or an overheated electrical appliance; Is the movement I hear the reaction of the house to the change in temperature or has one of the children awakened. Turning off this sensitivity during a meditation session was difficult.
A quantum leap came when Abbess told me what the “empty mind” is: no labels, no categories, no comparisons, no distinctions, no boundaries, etc. These give rise to attachments. These concepts of emptiness (or the Bodhi mind) and attachment prepared me for the experience of “emptiness” and “no attachment.” (I was helped by The Sutra of Forty-two Chapters which says: …Be mindful of no-mind.) When I became more familiar with the experience of “emptiness” or the Bodhi mind, the challenge became to intend or will myself to experience emptiness. The next challenge became to sustain that experience. When the Abbot of Chung Tai told us that “you do not meditate to be calm, at peace, be less stressed, or be relaxed, but to be in your empty mind,” my meditation sessions acquired a focus which was not there before.
The last Chan-7 I attended was filled with my attempts to sustain my experience of the empty mind, even outside the Chan Hall: the walk from the dormitory to the Chan Hall, during mealtimes, during breaks after each session.
At this point, I must make a half-bow to pay respect to all the Guiding Shifus at the Chan-7 retreats. It was not an easy task for them. I saw that some of them struggled to stay awake even as they sat in full lotus waiting for a meditation session to begin. I could only guess what time they were able to rest after reviewing the sessions of the past day and planning the sessions for the next day. I appreciated the way they moved about with the least sound with their feet and their robes as they watched over the participants. They differed in their styles: some were stern, some were gentle, some were comforting, some were considerate as they corrected the participants while others seemed demanding.
A half-bow also to the volunteers during mealtime —most of them were young, and some were in their early teens. The same appreciation also for the interpreters—they, too, differed in their competence. But, most of the time, I appreciated their struggle to keep up with the Abbot. I would not blame them if they could not translate a joke, which left us non-Mandarin speakers wondering what other participants were laughing about.
The journey has been joint contributions from my practice of sitting meditation and my understanding of the empty mind. Sometimes my practice improves my understanding of the empty mind; sometimes my understanding (from Dharma talks and sutra readings) helps me improve my practice. I have also promised myself that I will work toward improving my practice so that it can develop into the realization that “the empty mind or Bodhi mind is my true, original nature.”
Sometime ago, someone told me about a Zen saying which goes: “Beyond the mountains, mountains.” I have encountered many mountains. I have enjoyed conquering them. But I know that even as I sit on a mountain peak, other peaks will appear. Last Sunday, as we were chanting The Sutra of Forty-two Chapters, a phrase leaped out from the page: “Even with the Bodhi mind, it is difficult to realize non-cultivation and non-attainment.”
Ah, yes. Another mountain.
My journey continues.