Meditating with monks: day three

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By Gabrielle Jackson

11.38am: It’s getting worse, not better. Half an hour into my second sitting hour of the day, I was in so much pain I decided to go and take a 10-minute break on one of sofas.  I know I took a vow to train myself to refrain from sitting on such high and comfy objects, but I’ve seen other people do it so I went and sat on it, meaning only to stay there for 10 minutes. I woke up 45 minutes later, drooling, with my head in my knees. What’s more, I’d chosen the sofa outside the interview room for my little rest, which means Sayadaw had seen me as well as all the people coming and going from his room every 10 minutes.

I am trying to observe and notice more, instead of always thinking about something else, but even when I am noticing, I am thinking, ‘I should write this down. It sounds quite nice. I wonder if I could turn it into a poem? I’ve never written poetry. Daniel writes beautiful poetry. I bet he’d love something like this. No, he wouldn’t, he’d hate it.’ etc etc. I decided to make a better effort.

For example, today I noticed the smell of frangipanis. The path is cracked and there are mounds of stray cement causing bumps, which I feel beneath my yellow Havaianas. There is a bush with dead green leaves that have started to curl inwards. I wonder why they’re dead when it rains every day? There is a tree with tiny red flowers. I don’t know what it’s called. A tile has been left abandoned on a ledge.

4.50pm: I just don’t know if I can do it. I can’t see how this is going to suddenly stop hurting. Today, during a sitting session, when I was moving positions, one of the nuns came up to me to show me how to position myself correctly in the cross-legged position. Of course I know how it should be done BUT IT STILL HURTS! I looked over to her position and she has a little mounted bum cushion! It would be so much easier if I had that. 

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4.55pm: I’ve just discovered I plugged my camera charger in instead of my laptop when I left earlier. There’s only one power point in the room and when I’m in I need it to plug the fan in. See, if I’d being doing that with mindfulness I would have noticed. Now I am going to go and lie down and rest my back and knees for an hour – with mindfulness.

5.35pm: The Dhamma talk is painful. The minutes seem interminable while Sayadaw’s words are being translated into Thai. And when he’s speaking in English, I can’t follow even half of it. I have no idea what he’s talking about most of the time. I was considering taking a Valium for tonight’s talk, but considering my performance asleep on the interview couch this morning, I think I’d better not.

When I signed up to this, I imagined not eating for 18 hours a day and not talking would be the difficult parts. I was a little hungry on the first night, but that doesn’t even bother me. I just didn’t imagine I would be in so much physical pain. 

I was reading Michael Phelps’s biography when I arrived and it made me determined to be great at this. For the first two days I kept setting myself Phelps-inspired goals. I would say, OK, you can sit here for 20 minutes, then move. I achieved every goal and I was proud of myself. But now I can't get past that 20-minute mark. I could never be an eight-time Olympic-gold-medal winner. I’m hopeless!

Then again, maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I have the wrong attitude now. I have to believe I can do it. Break through the pain. Zone it out.

9.22pm: Just back from evening torture to find a spider in my bathroom. It looks nasty and dangerous. Since I’m at a Buddhist retreat and I’ve made a vow not to kill, I resisted the temptation to wash it down the drain, but what do I do? I know I should pick it up and take it outside, but what if it bites me? 

A spider to greet me

 I think the nun has taken a liking to me. This evening when I arrived in the hall, she came over and rolled up a cushion to put beneath my bum so now I have some ever-so-slight height under my rear. I thought, ‘You beauty, now it’ll be easy.’ It wasn’t. I did manage to sit for half an hour without moving, by which time riga mortis had set in. My left foot was completely numb. I could neither move nor feel it. I had to physically pick it up and move it. My knees were locked in position. Now I know why these people move so slowly – they’re stiff, stiff as boards! It hurts to move any faster.

Why am I doing this?

Better face the spider and get some sleep so I don’t fall asleep again tomorrow in front of the whole congregation. 

Read yesterday's diary here: Meditating with monks: day two
Read tomorrow's diary here: Meditating with monks: day four