Thank you to Tucker and co. for creating a welcoming and encouraging container in which I and twenty-something others could go a little deeper than everyday schedules typically allow. The silent retreat took place from last Friday evening until Monday afternoon in a beautiful ex-schoolhouse. It was insightful, revealing, and generally a nice reset. We weren’t able to read or write on retreat (I think there was a benefit to this, though journaling was nice at my last one), so this is most of what I could scribble down in my notes afterward.
I was a little surprised with how active and jumpy my mind was during the first day or so. This immediately showed me that I had an expectation to not have an active and jumpy mind, which can derail any retreat rather quickly. I’m thankful I was able to adjust to more of an open curiosity. This also made me wonder if I had been lacking stillness (or simply space for stuff to bubble up) in my non-retreat existence, and I think that this was the case. I’ve been filling opportunities for pauses with other stuff, so the first several hours of meditation felt like closing tab after tab. It always takes time to settle in, even in a 30-minute everyday sit, but this was interesting to notice.
I definitely see the value in a day four, five, or six. Three days is great, but it often takes one or two of those to “settle in”, let the chatter volume come down a few notches, and play around with different things based on what’s coming up. In chatting with more experienced practitioners afterward, I got the sense that day five-ish is when things can get even more interesting, peaceful, or a combination of both.
Also interesting to notice was my lack of frustration with my jumpy distractedness. This seems like a marker of progress—progress toward what, I’m not exactly sure. Equanimity seems apt. I probably wouldn’t prefer this restless version of the mind, but that was the case, and I was 95% able to take it for what it was. Notice and come back
Some of this distraction may have stemmed from my intention to use metta as my base practice for the retreat. I don’t use metta as my daily practice, but I’ve been wanting to incorporate it more and more so I saw this as a good opportunity. One issue that arose was that picturing others to wish them well often triggered cascades of memories (often pretty fun and pleasant, but daydreaming is less of a focus for this particular practice). Some advice I got for this was to stay with one person for the entirety of an hour-long sit, which helped significantly, and to focus more on feelings in the body associated with metta rather than interactions with that person.
Another issue was that the phrases I used (may you be happy, may you be healthy, may you be at peace) often felt empty—not empty in the Buddhist sense, more like hollow and shallow. Advice I received for this was that when it comes to metta, you sometimes have to practice actually meaning it. It sounds silly, but playing around with intent was useful.
A big theme of the retreat that helped me fine-tune some of my loving kindness during the second full day was: when it comes to intermediate meditation practice, the cessation of striving is key if you want to avoid repeatedly banging your head against the metaphorical wall. There are a lot of ways to talk about this (some good ones here), but I generally interpreted it as “don’t try so damn hard, your ego is clogging things up by trying to get somewhere.” I tried moving the locus of my awareness from my head down toward my heart space, and rested there, waiting to see what came up. This helped a lot and generally allowed access to a deeper sense of peace.
Side note: Why intermediate and not beginner? Tucker made a great analogy here. When you’re lifting a five-pound weight, your technique doesn’t matter as much as when that weight is one hundred pounds. Striving vs non striving matters less when there’s less meditation volume. Not that much less, though—I still think there are benefits at all levels.
Another related theme from our dharma Q&A talks was that of feeling feelings. Simple, but maybe not? A lot of us suppress feelings that we don’t want to feel, and not only do these get stuck in the body, but over time, repeating this process of suppression hinders our ability to feel feelings at all, on both ends of the spectrum, from intense discomfort to utter ecstasy.
Again, leaning into spaciousness—specifically in the heart space—helped a lot here. Sometimes just noting that a feeling is there and giving it a second or two to exist can be enough to release some of the emotional gunk, and allow us to feel feelings with more clarity and less attachment. I like to call this practice “soaking in openheartedness" and I think retreats provide a good opportunity for the soaking especially. In everyday practice, it usually takes 10-15min before you can access some stable stillness (at least in my experience). Retreats allow you to begin the next sit and drop right in with a nice continuity between each of them.
My shift toward open awareness and simply noticing whatever arises, rather than a more intentional concentration practice, was overall positive (mixing in some Sky Mind always helps). But “whatever arises” is not always fun. I noticed two or three particularly incessant and repetitive thought loops, rooted in the past or in planning. Whenever I noticed I was distracted, it was almost always these two or three loops, and this became equal parts fascinating and concerning.
Some advice I received here was to 1) explore the loop a little more deeply—check to see if there are emotions beneath the loop that aren’t being acknowledged and 2) particularly for the overactive planning mind, remind yourself that living in the future right now will likely make that future moment less enjoyable or, at the very least, rob you of what’s going on right now.
I was reminded again of how powerful and pleasant it is to practice in the presence of others. You can literally absorb the still energy of those around you and harness it for your own practice. The sangha is, after all, quite essential to any path toward a more aligned, awakened life. I was grateful to share the weekend with everyone there, and breaking silence for a final meal at the end was nourishing on many levels.
Ethics are a very important part of spiritual practice and, in this case, the Buddhist path. It’s easy to see all this as passive escapism, but it’s really quite the opposite. In recognizing emptiness—which frees us from a lot of self-generated limiting perceptions and, thus, helps us become more compassionate—we are able to become more effective interveners, activists, and communicators. In appreciating interbeing, we see problems and solutions as interconnected and, more importantly, we realize the programmed sense of self/other and us/them is a delusion.
Tucker is hilarious, and I deeply appreciate his skill of explaining complicated concepts using humor and metaphor. I learned a lot during his dharma talks, mostly because I was giggling. And giggles usually mean you’re engaged!
He also made a great point that I’m starting to recognize is usually true: that the best teachers often have this childlike, expressive joy. Tucker is definitely one of these, and I’d put Michael Taft as another. Sharon Salzberg and Jack Kornfield also come to mind. This adds support for the case of feeling feelings—in becoming an extremely experienced practitioner and teacher of meditation, these people haven’t become eternally numb and indifferent. Rather, their full engagement with the beauty, sorrow, joy, and despair of life is on full display, and this is inspiring for people like myself.
I should also add that this was quite reinvigorating for my daily practice, and that being off my phone for 72+ hours was very beneficial. These experiences are never smooth or easy, but they’re not supposed to be. Smooth and easy is for PB&J’s!
smooth and easy IS for pb&js..
I’m so impressed by this retreat and what you learned from it. I love the analogy of closing the tabs in one’s mind and letting thoughts flow. Thank you for sharing the details of what sounds like a very meaningful experience!