I’m two hours into my 5 day silent meditation retreat and a bee has stung me for the second time in my life.
‘Bastard!’ I yell, swatting the air as I pull the stinger out of my ankle.
Probably not an ideal start to a ‘silent’ retreat. Apparently my karma could use some work.
I’m at Wat Pa Tam Wua in northern Thailand. It’s a Vipassana style center where anyone can show up and stay for 3-10 days.
I’m here to learn about Buddhism and let monks run my schedule for a few days, alongside a cohort of 100 others attempting to achieve Nirvana.
Everyone is provided white clothing, although most items have a purple tinge from laundry.
Each day is the same. We eat, we learn Buddhist teachings, we meditate, and do the monastery’s favourite chore of endlessly raking leaves.
Leading the group is a sitcom rotation of monks; an excitable lad giving confusing lessons in attempted english, a round and jovial monk who tells the same origin story at least twice a day, and a curt, seemingly angry monk who gave wonderful lectures. Between them, they take our group through the daily Buddhism talks and meditations.
Meditating took various forms:
Sitting – trying not to focus on how much your back hurt
Lying down – doing your best to not fall asleep
Walking – aka Buddhist zombie parade, single file, chanting ‘Bu’ and ‘Dho’ with each step
As a serial fast walker, I spent the first few walking meditations mentally overtaking the person in front of me, thinking about how much more zen we could get through with a proper pace.
Not exactly the path to enlightenment.
From the outside it looked like a cult. And I suppose from the inside too. But in a comforting ‘free food and synchronized chanting’ sort of way.
During his talks, the jolly monk would regale us how he LOVED barbecue. The baby-back rib king of his family, he was a young lad, caught up in a girlfriend, partying, and the grill.
A classic Thai playboy.
However, a victim of the ‘monkey mind’, he felt distracted and unsettled. He became a monk to find happiness.
His girlfriend was very sad, ‘boo hoo’ she cried. No more parties. No more barbecue.
But now he is happy.
Monastery life is a simple life. The meditations were excellent alongside plenty of time to walk, read, and ask the monks questions (allowed even when participating as ‘silent’).
I asked how a monk would deal with a mosquito that’s biting him. I was answered with another classic monologue about barbecue. Perhaps enlightenment really does circle back to brisket.
Oh well.
Nirvana can wait. Back to yelling at insects for now.
