Upcoming Posts
Well, it happened, with my talented and wonderful friend Christina on board, I fell off updating this blog myself. I’ve missed many Poetry Ptuesdays and I’m backlogged on Spending Breakdown by TWO months! I haven’t completely finished my bench, and my plants are doing all kinds of crazy summer stunts that I’ve not (obnoxiously) updated on. Yesterday I trimmed my sage box and made a lot of dehydrated sage!
To make up for my tepid, uninspired “return”, here is a really powerful and gorgeous poem by Jamaican-American poet and activist June Jordan.
*
Poem for South African Women
Our own shadows disappear as the feet of thousands
by the tens of thousands pound the fallow land
into new dust that
rising like a marvelous pollen will be
fertile
even as the first woman whispering
imagination to the trees around her made
for righteous fruit
from such deliberate defense of life
as no other still
will claim inferior to any other safety
in the world
The whispers too they
intimate to the inmost ear of every spirit
now aroused they
carousing in ferocious affirmation
of all peaceable and loving amplitude
sound a certainly unbounded heat
from a baptismal smoke where yes
there will be fire
And the babies cease alarm as mothers
raising arms
and heart high as the stars so far unseen
nevertheless hurl into the universe
a moving force
irreversible as light years
traveling to the open
eye
And who will join this standing up
and the ones who stood without sweet company
will sing and sing
back into the mountains and
if necessary
even under the sea
we are the ones we have been waiting for
*
While not quite as brimming with sagacity and strength as the Jordan’s poem, I am working to bring y’all the small and ugly fruits of my tremendous labors. Look out for me catching up on spending breakdowns, finishing my bench repair, and obnoxiously showing off my plants some more in the near future.
Happy Tuesday, kitty kats.
Vipassana Day 4: Impermanence (a 12-day Journal of my Vipassana Silent Meditation Retreat Experience)
Today I woke up at 4:15 AM to wash out the conditioning mask from my hair. I tried to fall back asleep but failed. Today’s breakfast was better than yesterday’s because they had my favorite fall fruit, persimmons! Honestly, I wish they would just serve us lunch leftovers because there is nothing savory for breakfast. Or at least offer eggs (everything is vegetarian at the center). I don’t think I have mentioned that I ran out of my oxygenated magnesium (my magic bm pills), which means I’ve barely gone to the bathroom. Even with eating vegan mush, and the copious amounts of water I’ve been drinking, and laps around the track… Nada. My morning walk was beautiful, but there is this one woman who gives me the strangest look each time she walks by. This is the third day I’ve noticed. Maybe I stare strangely at the other gals? I think we are all losing it. Speaking of communal spaces, sometimes we will hold the door for each other, and we will use our eyes to say thank you or bow, or accidentally mouth it or even say it. We aren’t supposed to gesture at each other, let alone break noble silence, but it happens. Noble habits are hard to break.
There are a mother and daughter here together, who often sit together, and sometimes gesture or whisper to each other. It’s sweet and makes me miss my own mom. Even though I did a conditioning treatment, my hair still feels dry. I mean, it’s the high desert. Also, my face feels super dry, and bumpy, maybe even hive-like. Am I overdoing the face masks, or allergic to something else?
The first meditation today was hard. It just felt longer than ever before. The teacher called us up in groups to see how we were doing with focusing on the nostrils and any sensations that arise during the meditations. I said it feels dry and warm, others said they could feel their nostrils expanding. My loud and older neighbor ‘Lydia’ said she can’t stop herself from falling asleep. We know… We can hear you snoring.
For lunch, I did what I promised I would do, which is to eat an entire plate of salad. On the side, I had a corn tortilla with beans and cilantro. I’ve been taking advantage of all of the seasonings they have to offer. There is the one I really like but I can’t remember the name. And nutritional yeast…mmm. After lunch, I waited patiently to speak with the teacher. While waiting, I realized the rabbits here don’t run away when you get near. They must know they are safe in Dhammaland.
During my ‘interview’ with the teacher, I expressed my frustrations and my agitation regarding my neighbor (Lydia), without naming names. She eluded that she knew exactly who I was talking about, without mentioning any specific names. She said this can be tough and unavoidable because we are a big group in a small room. She mentioned they are probably not doing it on purpose and hopefully, they will figure out it’s disturbing and stop. She recommended I turn my agitation into compassion. Maybe this person is having a difficult time? I then explained that I fluctuate between a feeling of peace and claustrophobia. She said it’s all normal. Just be aware of such, and let it go. Anicca(impermanence aka everything is temporary). After the meeting, I washed some of my clothes with hand soap and hung them out to dry. Kind of fun. Let’s see how quickly they dry. Yes, this is how we party in Dhammaland. I had time to make a round on the racetrack before the break was over. Also, I keep hearing weird sounds like someone is bombing. We are next to 29 Palms military base after all. The dichotomy!!! Real question. Would they stop the meditation if something serious was happening out there?
The afternoon meditation was also really hard for me. I ended up being the noisy one. I kept fidgeting and I just didn’t want to focus on my dry and burning nostrils. I thought about how I randomly woke up at 11:11 PM, and that it must have been a sign. I also thought about how one of the fellow meditators wears shirts with the strangest sayings written on them. I also thought about how it is majority white women here, and maybe just a quarter, or a little more of POC. Why is that? I look forward to the moment Goenka begins chanting (even though he has a frog-like voice) because that marks the end of our meditation. Tea break was same ol’, but I didn’t eat anything, because fruit just didn’t sound appetizing. My clothing dried quickly, but my towel was super hard. I decided to re-soak it and hang it up again.
This evening’s meditation was also difficult, and now I am wondering if it’s because I ate a larger lunch? I didn’t feel full though. That’s a question for tomorrow. Again, I was so ecstatic to hear Goenka’s concluding chanting. At discourse, he discussed how nothing is solid and how everything is impermanent (anicca). We are different people from moment to moment, and you will never touch the same water in a river (unless it’s a lazy river). Same with our feelings. We may feel ecstasy one moment, pain the next. As long as we acknowledge our feelings and do not attach, we are fine. Tomorrow we will finally begin Vipassana practice. Apparently focusing on just the nose and nostrils has been preparing us for this? The last meditation also felt long, and images and feelings of old friends came up, but it was all temporary… Anicca. I forgot to grab my towel and refused to walk outside alone. There are coyote droppings everywhere, and I can hear them digging outside my window at night.
Vipassana Day 3: The Wild vs Tame Elephant (a 12-day Journal of my Vipassana Silent Meditation Retreat Experience)
The goals I have for this retreat (meditated on this in the AM):
1. The root cause of my anxiety
2. The root cause of my IBS
3. The root cause of my Tinnitus
4. The root cause of a recent lump in my throat
5. Figuring out what I truly want in my life (work, relationship[s], family)
6. The root reason of why I am always searching for something better
7. The root cause of my impulsiveness
8. The root cause of feeling guilty
9. The root cause of feeling shameful around having money
I woke up at 6 AM, to my own alarm. I clearly didn’t hear this morning’s gong. Oh well. I am extremely tired and dry, inside and out. I am hoping to manifest some rain or at least humidity. Breakfast was breakfast, and I got a prime seat in front of the window, where I watched the sunrise over the mountains. The manager asked for the tea bags she gave me back because they apparently belonged to one of the servers. I happily returned them, unsteeped. I accidentally put Tahiti sauce on my rice cakes, which I recommend never doing. FYI, S.N. Goenka says the reason why we skip dinner during retreats is that you apparently meditate better on an empty stomach. Interesting. After breakfast, I did my usual walk, four rounds total, or one mile. This takes me around 20 minutes, depending on how slow I walk and also includes me stopping to stretch.
Luckily, S.N. Goenka gave us further instruction on how to focus on our breath for hours. Tomorrow will apparently be the last day of Anapana Meditation. I keep fantasizing about texting my parents and partner. I am luckily feeling better thanks to the Vitamin C, cranberry supplement and over 100 oz of lemon water. Lunch was f*ing amazing. Split pea soup with carrots and herb roasted potatoes (fries) and salad. I never know how much to eat at lunch, considering we don’t get dinner, and I had barely eaten breakfast. Does meditation burn calories?
After lunch, I went on my nature walk. The usual suspects were there. Some mindfully walk, while others borderline jog. It was so hot, and I decided to only walk two laps and get my stretch on. It’s interesting to see the men on their own natural path down aways. We are so separated from them, left with only glimpses of their silhouettes, except during meditation, where we are in the same hall, but still physically separated. They actually put a wall in between us while we eat. I sat down with the teacher and brought up my UTI and asked if that might be some of my ‘gunk’ coming to the surface. She said maybe, or maybe not. She asked for me to take it seriously, and to take care of myself. If this turns into a kidney infection, I will have to see a doctor, and leave the property and won’t be allowed back into Dhammaland. My heart sank at the thought of leaving. I then asked if I will know when I’ve encountered the root of my suffering and pain. She said it isn’t necessarily a moment of figuring it out. It may be emotions and physical sensations that come up over the course of the retreat. So much for an easy solution.
The afternoon meditation was a lot easier. After going on my walk, I realized that the grass may be greener on the other side. The men appear to have a better view of the southern mountain range, bordering Joshua Tree National Park. Whatever, I’ll just breathe through my saltiness.
Evening meditation was ok. I kept thinking about and literally salivating over the thought of lunch. Sorry, but fruit is NOT dinner. Concentrating on the area around the nose is challenging, especially when you’re still hungry. In addition, it was louder inside than ever before. I ignored it as much as I could, but my older neighbors to the right are aggressively loud. They are constantly clearing their throats, yawning, adjusting, sighing, coughing. The men’s side was also loud. I will have to talk to the teacher about this tomorrow. I kept wanting to stand up and yell STFU, but that wouldn’t have been very Vipassana-like of me. Tonight’s discourse was awesome, though pretty long. S.N. Goenka was the only one in the frame this time. He spoke of wild elephants, and how a tame elephant/mind can be extremely helpful, and the most unhelpful when it’s wild. He spoke of how when we feel or think negatively, we are punished by nature. For example, if you are agitated about something, you’re the only one left feeling crappy (ahem… my loud neighbors). In addition, living a ‘noble’ lifestyle means not intentionally doing anything to harm something living. The last meditation of the day was short and sweet. I got to shower and do a conditioning hair mask before heading to bed.
Poetry Ptuesday: All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani
[Whoa! I missed TWO Poetry Ptuesday. Guys, my bad! Here’s a fun one though.]
*
All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani
My piano coat unbuttoned
and all my pianos fell into the leaves.
I was picking up pianos for hours
when you walked past
your skin glowed like a loud dog.
In your smile this dog had a fence
to push his face up against.
What happiness he barked.
With pianos filling my arms
I followed through the neighborhood
and up onto the dark green porch of your home.
I stood in the doorway
and because they wouldn’t fit through the frame
I laid the pianos in piles outside.
You led me up the stairs into your room.
All our robbers were asleep
in a different part of the house.
We lay in your bed like cash bills after a heist
and listened hard
to hear if the pianos
had been playing the whole time.
This happened in the fall.
*
[Mojgani is a spoken word poet based out of Portland Oregon, and born in New Orleans, Louisiana, coincidentally two of my favorite cities in the United States.]
Happy Wednesday, kids.