Part Two: The Retreat

The meditation retreat was in the Hidraya style. That means more than I really know. But, according to the website of the center:

“Hridaya means Spiritual Heart, or more simply understood, the divine nature of our beings. Hridaya Meditation and Yoga starts from the premise that traditional ideas about the Spiritual Heart can and should be applied in a very concrete and practical way. The Heart, seen as an organ of direct knowledge, can and should be trained constantly in order to increase its purity, and its capacity to Love, to Witness, and to Surrender.”

One reason I was compelled to go was that the main technique used in the meditation is that of Sri Ramana Maharshi. One of the most authentic spiritual experiences I have had in my life happened in 2007 when I was studying abroad in India. A few friends and I went to the ashram of Ramana Maharshi per the suggestion of my friend Ari’s dad. None of us were really expecting much. But at some point while circumnavigating mount Arunchala, I felt something that has remained with me to this day. Ramana Maharshi’s picture above the retreat leader became one of the few things that kept me going as the hours passed.

Below is the schedule of the day.

07:00-09:00   Meditation: The revelation of the Spiritual Heart, Atman. This meditation will begin in smaller segments (for example, with short hourly breaks), building to one continuous, deep meditation session.

09:00-09:30   Light breakfast buffet

09:30-10:45   Relevant lecture teaching

10:45-12:00   Hridaya Hatha Yoga

12:00-12:30   Meditation

12:30-15:00   Lunch buffet and rest

15:00-18:00   Meditation: The revelation of the Spiritual Heart. This meditation will begin in smaller segments (for example, with short hourly breaks), building to one continuous, deep meditation session.

18:00-18:30   Time for personal practice.

18:30-20:00   Lecture, Q&A and last evening meditation

20:00-20:30   Dinner buffet and rest

On day 1, I spent a lot of time thinking about where I was going to sleep, whether other people were really meditating or just pretending, how much I missed Coach Taylor from Friday Night Lights, how intricate the tattoos on my neighbors back were, who I am, translating thoughts in Spanish, missing being out in Mexico, pure consciousness, pure bliss, who I am, whether I was going to make it through, my back, who I am, the clouds, the clear blue sky, growing up a Unitarian, questioning God, how to surrender and have vision at the same time, doubt, who I am.

It was the guided meditation where we bared witness to our thoughts as they floated by, noticing that each one had a beginning and an end and none of them alone defined us that I found my calmest mind. I also enjoyed the meditation technique of reviewing the day in your head, always asking who you are as you do it. It reminded me of an amped up version of my childhood nighttime ritual with my dad, favorite things. Though in our version, we named all the things we loved. In this version, I was learning to detach from the day. I took note that maybe some combination of the two could be a good way to make a new ritual for my kid someday.

On day 2, I spent a lot of time thinking about the knife I was sure was sticking out of my back, the tent I was sure would not keep me feeling peaceful for 10 nights, who I am, missing Mexico despite being there, how to write the note that I would give to the monitor telling her I was in too much pain to be there, who I am, the things that gave me peace besides the moment I was in like biking and cooking and eating and love, that it was not working, who I am, the embers of my heart, if I live with an open heart, how the retreat seemed to be closing my heart with every minute, the girl who fell asleep in every meditation, the girl who started writing in the last meditation, how I was not supposed to notice those girls, who I am.

Despite learning a lot about meditation techniques and feeling moved by many of the ideas, something was missing. As the hours went by, I was not connecting. I was spending about 50% of my energy focused on how my back would not be able to withstand the 10 nights in the tent paired with 8 hours of sitting. In the past few months, I have been having a lot of back pain, and I'm sure the suburban ride did not set me up for success. 20% of me was stressed about how 60 people could comfortably remain in the small meditation hall and use the two-eco friendly bathrooms without the whole place crumbling. Another 20% was making deals with myself about when I could start breaking rules and conjuring up plans to leave. So, I really only had 10% left to be present with the content. And in that, I was not convinced I really enjoyed the approach of the guide, which was making it hard for me to listen with an open heart.  That was kind of a problem since the whole retreat was about living with an open heart.

On the first day, I did not leave the hilltop retreat center. I was afraid if I went out into the town, I would not know how to stay silent and centered. But, by the second day it was driving me nuts that I could see the ocean, but I had not yet touched the water. So, during the break time, I put on my bathing suit and ventured out into the world.

The minute I was on the beach of San Agustinillo, I felt a peace that had been lacking for two days. I smiled and even danced a bit. I walked down the beach and a woman said “hola!” I had to turn away to preserve my silence. I got my feet wet and felt the warmth of the Pacific Ocean. It beckoned me in without hesitation. I did not even need to tip toe; the water was warm like a hug from a good friend you had forgotten you missed. I dove into the waves. I ran away from the big ones. I felt companionship. Then I made a little place for myself and laid down. A couple of boys came up to me to ask the time. I held out my wrist for them to read my watch while my brain was screaming, “son las dos!” I desperately wanted to practice my Spanish and tell them the time. Which is strange as prior to that moment, I was usually looking for ways not to embarrass myself speaking Spanish. I told myself I was being silent for a reason and relaxed into the beach.

Just as I was drifting off, contemplating the bliss of the moment, a man came up behind me speaking in Spanish. I had just reached that point when I was completely looking in, feeling that I was the only person in the world. When he spoke, I jerked up and gasped. Seeing that he startled me, he immediately started apologizing, “me desculpa, me desculpa.” He said.

I see that he had simply come over to sell henna tattoos. I looked at him and tried to tell him it’s ok with my eyes. Thinking that I just don’t understand him, he started backing away from me saying in English, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”  a few more steps and he says, “Wow, you are tense. You need to relax.” Then he takes a few more steps and his parting words to me were, “I guess that is why you are here.”

I think to myself, “I thought so too.”

So, it took the tattoo selling beach bum to convince me that if I am meant to do a retreat, this was not the one. I had to leave the retreat. And I had to do it before nightfall.