Awakening at the Forest Refuge
On January 1st 2020 I participated in a month long silent meditation retreat at the Forest Refuge in Barre, Massachusetts. In order to participate one must complete a minimum of 6-weeks in a silent meditation retreat somewhere else. My anticipation for this retreat was tinged with anxiety. The Forest Refuge was a lot less structured than the six-week retreat that I had taken at Insight Meditation Society. IMS was just down the road on the same property. The Forest Refuge offered a more advanced practice. I wasn’t sure if I had enough discipline to get myself into the meditation hall if it was optional.
Entering the Forest Refuge is similar to the ancient days of India when people would escape the mundane world to the forest where yogis, outlaws and outcasts of conventional society dwelled. In the forest there were no rules. Memories of the past and plans for the future did not apply. In the forest the most radical of all human journeys can take place. One is allowed to unite with one’s innate purity- that awake, spacious presence of being often called Buddha nature or wholeness in Jungian psychology.
No longer being bombarded and overwhelmed by information from news & Internet, one enters a different realm where things move at a much slower pace. It was very powerful being with thirty people in silence for a whole month meditating and eating meals together. The Forest Refuge resembled the retort, a sealed container used by alchemists where the energies are isolated from outside influences. This place within the retort is where the natural laws of the universe can be carried out unimpeded. This isolation challenged one to question everything thought and felt about oneself to experience reality free of habitual ways of seeing and believing. Surrendering to a greater sense of openness transforms human doing into human being.
My first week I counted the days and worried that time would go too slowly. But, by the 3rd week, it flew by. When it came time to depart on the 31st of January, I did not want to leave this incredibly sacred space that had been created. The first week was a bit more structured with a dharma (teachings of the Buddha or nature of reality) talk most every night. The second week they shifted us over to having a talk only 3 times a week. Every morning at 8:30 we all met as a group to meditate. Sometime the two teachers leading the retreat (one being a Buddhist Monk the other an American woman) would do a brief talk in the morning. I worried how I would do the second week when there would be less structured presentations. There were also two fifteen-minute interviews a week. Both teachers spoke about our individual practices and offered the opportunity to ask questions. These sessions were beneficial, and as one of the only opportunities to converse they were happily anticipated.
As time passed, I began to develop more confidence in my ability to create my own structure within the open schedule. The retreat was led by a Buddhist monk , who was one of five monastics present. Lunch was our last meal served. I enjoyed the renunciation of not being able to snack between meals and having no dinner. You were allowed to store food for later but I just stuck with the monastic schedule. It got tough at times not because I was hungry but more because I was used to having snacks whenever I wanted. They did serve juices and dried ginger at dinnertime.
With a one hour work period, four to five hours a day meditating in the hall, formal walking meditation, and a daily walk on the trails on the large property, I adapted well to the schedule. I actually began to love the openness of this practice as opposed to the more boot camp style retreat of IMS. The Forest Refuge houses only thirty people, so there was a feeling of more space. It felt luxurious compared to the larger IMS, which housed 100 people. The small Buddhist library on the compound encouraged reading as opposed to IMS where they did not want you to read or write. I read three books while I was there, and I noticed how much easier it was for me to be able to concentrate while reading. Normally, I find it difficult to focus for long periods on reading without getting distracted. By the second week, I noticed the effects of the meditation as my mind became more focused with fewer distractions. As time passed, I became more and more aware of the quality of my mind. When I woke up in the morning, it could only be described with words like spacious, luminous, and empty. Usually when I wake up, my mind tends to start thinking a lot. Another great reward I received from the practice was being able to recall my dreams again with much detail, which hasn’t happened in years.
Going to a meditation retreat is probably the most challenging as well as rewarding thing I could ever do. Growing up with a mother who was somewhat restless affected my brother and myself. We also have a restless nature. Like my Mother, I could never sit very long before I had to get up and be active. It’s a way of being that is completely opposite of mindfulness. So, for me, the idea of being able to meditate seemed daunting. Eventually, I discovered from going on shorter retreats that I had the diligence and persistence required to concentrate the mind.
In meditation practice, one commits to sitting still for 45 min or more. In this time, focus is on the breath, and every time one notices that one is lost in thought then one refocuses back on the breath. It seems so simple, yet it’s one of the hardest practices. While meditating, one begins to see that thoughts control you more than you control thoughts. They keep coming into consciousness, stirring up the mind, and making it difficult to sit still.
Sitting meditation practice is a means for settling the mind, slowing the momentum of thoughts getting quiet enough to see clinging in the mind, and releasing it. In the first week of the retreat, it felt like I had an AM radio talk show blasting in my head. I desperately tried to focus on my breath, but the mind chatter grew louder and kept pulling me away from concentrating on my breath. At times I would experience slight panic because I couldn’t turn down the volume on the talk show. This caused great discomfort in my back and in my legs. I knew if I didn’t stop the chattering mind it would be a long, miserable 45 min sit. With great effort and diligence, I managed to stay focused on the breath without getting pulled away. Concentration develops by applying the right amount of effort and that willingness to return every time the mind wanders off. Awareness and focus liberates one from being controlled by thoughts.
Eventually, the mind started to settle. As my mind and body became more unified, I started to experience the power of mind over matter. Instead of being caught in that gross physical level at which we all tend to live, my body became less dense, and the discomfort I was feeling in the legs began to dissolve. I was able to sit comfortably for another hour in the same position, which previously had been uncomfortable. My legs remained in the same position. The only difference was that my thoughts no longer held me captive. For years I have been attached and invested in deeply rooted patterns of thinking that keep me from moving on to the next thought, the next moment, or the next experience. Only by concentrating on my breath for an hour was I was able to let go. This entangled web of dense thought forms caused great anxiety in the mind as well as pain in the body. Untangling these deep unconscious knots is the work of meditation. As we allow unresolved unlived experiences to continually make themselves known to us, allowing for awareness and integration.
I also observe when I am clinging to thoughts it can cause a claustrophobic type hot flash. In normal circumstances, I am free to move my body when discomfort is present. But in the meditation hall, it’s so extremely quiet one can’t even swallow without feeling self-conscious about disturbing your fellow yogis. Moving your sitting position becomes a big deal- never mind walking out of the hall. In my early days of doing retreats, the hot flash always came with full force. This time I noticed it had lessened. Now when I feel it coming on, I embrace and welcome it knowing it will pass. Usually, I can expect some kind of shift after I cool down, a sort of dropping in more deeply.
Sitting still without being able to move or get up resembles the required containment of the alchemical process. My body becomes like a sealed alchemical vessel that is heated to the point where the lead (dense thought forms) is transformed into gold (pure awareness). I feel like an alchemist performing the great work, resurrecting spirit into matter. As the impurities and dense thought forms are burned to ashes, the mind becomes cleansed and purified. Tapping into that subtle most highly refined essence of self reveals our fundamental nature- what the alchemists called the great perfection, the indestructible Philosophers’ Stone & the Golden Elixir. In Buddhism this essence is referred to as the Buddha nature. This elixir or tincture of eternal life the Alchemist sought was made of the subtlest ingredients, which allows him to partake in divine wisdom. In the yogic tradition Amirita is considered a fluid that could drop from the pituitary gland into the throat in deep states of meditation causing immortality. The life force, or prana, names the divine, vital energy circulating through the body. This energy will keep the alchemist as well as yogis and Sages young and radiating health and wellbeing. One has become a Heavenly king by tapping into the subtle mind body unification. All human beings have this Golden Elixir complete in himself or herself. It can be realized by everybody- it is neither more in a sage or yogi nor less in an ordinary being.
Mindfulness is that flowing soft focused moment of pure awareness. It has a flavor-a light, clear, and energetic flavor. By comparison, thought is heavy and contracting. The purification of mind occurs when the hindrances of craving, greed, and delusion are temporarily halted. A mind empty of content can begin accessing a profound taste of its deeper nature and see clearly into the underlying depth of the mind. We experience peace, calm, and joy seeing things as they are with wisdom and clarity, which leads to a “thinning of the veils” of me the personality. In this way, we can have more access to more profound transcendent aspects of what we are. Awakening is not the experience of spiritual ecstasy, but instead, it’s a profound relinquishment of clinging and abandons the causes of suffering.
As my mind shifts toward a gateway of timelessness, freedom and liberation, I begin to watch the world with objectivity. This objectivity can also be described as “witness consciousness”. I can observe through investigation the contents of my mind. When the mind ripples away from stillness, I can catch it as soon as the rippling occurs. As it starts to head out toward its habitual preoccupations, I can use mindfulness to cut the thought off before it fully forms. Mindfulness is a kind of armor that keeps the mind peaceful, safe, and free from danger. The mind is always seeking something. If one doesn’t pay attention, it’s going to end up wandering into dangerous neighborhoods. By guarding the sense doors, one can unhook from this judging, planning mind. Meditation practice reveals the struggle of the mind and where it gets derailed. With mindfulness, one can avoid falling into the ruts and familiar grooves that have been formed over years. One realizes it’s not necessary to follow every whim and dictate of the mind like a prisoner being ordered around by agitated thoughts, desires, and cravings.
During these four weeks of meditation practice, I witnessed a more focused and unified mind that enables clear seeing. Often during the retreat after an hour or more of meditating, I liked to walk outside and experience nature from this clear mind. The Buddhists call this bare attention. It’s experiencing the immediacy of the moment with crystal clarity. With a mind so refined and free of the hindrances, I am in awe of the beauty that surrounds me. Encountering clear seeing in nature was an awakening for me. My stillness seemed to be attracting wildlife. I encountered for the first time an otter on one of my walks through this swampy area. This beautiful creature swam under the ice and emerged through a hole with a fish. I witnessed it eating in front of me with out him noticing my presence.
It was completely miraculous that I was able to pause, stand quietly, listen, and observe the beauty around me without any disturbances or delusion in the mind. It takes a clear, steady mind to see the truth. Buddhism defines delusion as when our mind is lost in thought, and we are not fully present to direct experience. What I saw in those few moments on my walks in nature at the Forest Refuge were so much more precious then all my years of walking in nature lost in thought. Awakened mind is always there but simply obscured and covered over by layers of confusion.
Some students asked the Buddhist Master why he practiced meditation and his answer was “so when I walk to town I don’t miss the purple flowers growing on the side of the road”. This statement pretty much sums up my experience at the Forest Refuge. Breathing in and out brings the body and mind together, fully alive, fully present in the here and now. With every step, you touch the wonders of life that are in and around you.
When we’re inhabited by the energy of mindfulness and concentration, we enter into the land of bliss. Every step we take leads us to the Kingdom of Heaven, the Pure Land of the Buddha.
