creating space.

i put my teachings from the last new sunday session into practice and created some space for myself.

i left on wednesday morning to serve at a vipassana meditation course for a few days. i looked forward to the silence. after a stressful tuesday, i managed to pack, get three hours of sleep, and get on the road by 8. i arrived at 1130, thinking servers were expected by noon, at the latest. i chose a bed and took a walk around the center. it was dry and dusty with little shade. this site was more expansive than the location where i’d sat a course. this meant longer walks. i went back to see if i was needed in the kitchen. or maybe to see that i wasn’t needed in the kitchen. i got the schedule and went to lie down. my body felt weighted. my face was tired. i began to drift into a light sleep state. someone entered the room. she turned on the light and i cringed. oh shit. what’s this? what have i done? what am i doing here? i need to rest. i’m not going to get any rest here, getting up at 4 every morning. i came here to serve others. why did i think this was a good idea? what i need is to be alone. i am always serving others. this is no retreat for me. this is more of the same in a different setting. shit. maybe i’ll just stay two days. i could speak to the manager about changing my commitment. i could fill out a new form, i haven’t submitted mine yet. i could go camp for two nights. head was imploding. the person was now carefully, as if intentionally, crinkling her very loud paper grocery bag. could she not do that later? my head was filling fast with doubt, anxiety, and negativity.

needless to say, i had a hard time getting into the meditation that evening. i felt like i was crashing. and so it was for each sitting the next day. in fact, i actually willed myself to think just so that i would stay awake. think, lila. think about anything. just don’t fall asleep. you’re setting an example for the students. it was soon unclear which was more work, hand dicing 10 pounds of carrots (try it—weigh out 10 pounds of carrots) or sitting still for one hour. sitting definitely seemed more exhausting. in the kitchen, i at least had tasks to focus my mind on. which was more physically intense? hard to say. did i ever get past the breath and into the real vipassana practice? i wouldn’t claim it.

the next day, i felt so exhausted after the second sitting that i went back to lie down and instantly drifted into a trance. fifteen minutes later, my kitchen manager reminded me that we had a meeting. right! i said, jolting up for my shoes. do you need more rest? she asked. yes, i replied, is that okay? she said it was and i fell asleep. i missed the meeting, i missed the tea time prep, and i nearly missed dinner, but i was up in time for the final group sit. i headed into the kitchen, where the servers were all eating. get some dinner, i was told. no judgement. no resentment. no where were you for our meeting? no you weren’t here to help cook the food and now you want to eat, too? just a polite instruction for me to serve myself. serve myself.

i began shifting into the rhythm of the course over the next two days. i don’t recall it being so difficult to acclimate when i was sitting the course. this was an entirely new experience. soon, i noticed myself getting attached. such beautiful beings i was working amongst. such a lovely flow it became as i started to let go of what i should be doing and allow myself to rest when i needed it, to eat when i needed it, to listen to my body first, above all rules.

i knew i had lessons to learn in detachment, so i slipped out on course day three after lunch was handled, as unannounced as possible.

i reinitiated my phone and looked up directions to yosemite. i avoided checking my email. i put the top down to soak up the sun. i turned on some music, and soon turned it off, preferring the sound of the car on the road and the wind in my face.

i reached yosemite in 45 minutes and went to find a campsite right away. i realized i would be fasting, and thought that maybe i should’ve brought some food from the kitchen. halfway up the road, i went back for gas and decided on one more liter of water, to be safe. and two bananas. i found my campsite by early afternoon and claimed it with my backpack. there were at least 80 tents scattered throughout the forest at the bridalveil creek site and i started to feel a sense of something missing, surrounded by families and groups of people, full spreads on the table, hammocks hung from the trees, laughter. it was too sunny to pitch my tent yet. i missed my family and our childhood trips. i missed being part of a unit. i quickly found despair and befriended it. i decided to walk up the nearby rocks and find one to sit on. maybe today i could do vipassana and finally purify my mind, considering i had nothing else to do. i looked hard at the surrounding rocks and trees and told myself how grateful i was for such beauty. i closed my eyes and focused on my breath as best i could.

ten minutes later, my eyes flew open. what am i doing? why am i doing this? why do i feel like i should work right now? this is not making me happy. i don’t have to meditate. i don’t have to work on being a better person. and i asked aloud, what would make you happy, lila? and i remembered driving made me happy. maybe i’ll go explore the valley—but how long would it take to get there? would i be back before sunset? i set up my tent and then drove to glacier point. it was breathtaking. i stood in awe and wondered how anyone could have an argument surrounded by this vast beauty.

i have been advised that whatever our struggles are will always be our struggles. our lessons will be veiled in many different forms, but at the root, it will always be the same. for me, it’s often about distinguishing what i want from what i should. this involves listening to my body, my heart, and creating boundaries for myself. in that space, i can learn to let go of my own judgments. if i surround myself with nonjudgmental people, i can better sustain an accepting and productive state of being.