January 20
Legendary
The green sign on the gate made it clear that I’d found the place. It didn’t look like the stuff of legends – just a bamboo gate and fence around what looked like a big property. I imagined it must reach the ocean on the far side.
The phone call had made me a bit nervous and I went in hesitantly.
The woman had said that a new group was opening today, but that not everybody who expressed interest was accepted.
She told me I’d have to sign a form saying that I didn’t have emotional or physical illnesses and that I wasn’t in a spiritual crisis.
I’m not in one – I am a walking crisis from A to Z, but I didn’t tell her that.
She said that Vipassana meditation was not meant to heal emotional crises, but to teach us through personal experience the most fundamental insights about life and human existence and, in this way, give us tools to deal with crises that may arise.
To me it sounded like they were covering their asses in case someone sued them.
The truth is, though, I hadn’t really researched what I was getting into.
Maybe they were going to flog me raw so that I’d learn to deal with crises.
I did go willingly, part of my commitment to saying yes to everything fate offered, no matter what.
“Hello!” a smiling petite woman in her sixties welcomed me. She looked western, with spiky greying hair that suited her. I tried, but failed, to see the terrifying witch in her.
“Hi. I’m Daniel.”
“Ah, Daniel. We spoke on the phone. I’m Mia. How are you?”
“Um, okay I think. A bit nervous.”
“Well, that’s natural. But you don’t need to be. You don’t have to prove anything here. Just being here is enough.”
For someone I’d already decided was a spiritual nutcase, she sounded very down to earth. She brought me some indemnity forms to sign and explained the process.
“You leave all your electronics with us. Did you let people know you would be unreachable for a few days?”
“Uh, yes.” Truth be told, I’d posted it on Instagram, so I assumed they knew. I’d gotten tons of questions about where I was going but I decided I’d only share the name of the place after I left – if it was worth a good review.
“Great! You’re not to bring in any food, books, writing materials or anything else that could distract you from the here-and-now. If you have anything like that, this is where you leave it.”
I’d known all this ahead of time, so I told her I had nothing other than my phone.
I wondered if they were going to search my backpack.
I’d stashed a few energy bars in it; I can’t sleep if I’m hungry.
There were supposed to be three meals a day, but the last one was at five in the afternoon – fruit – and bedtime was at nine. No way I’d survive that.
“Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, can I pay for a private room?”
She smiled pleasantly but was clearly trying to suppress a laugh.
“We don’t have the resources to offer private rooms. We’re supported by donations only and we don’t treat people differently based on the amount they donate. If you do want to donate, there’ll be a place to do that on the last day.”
She stood and led me to a large hall. Twenty other guys were there, talking quietly among themselves. To my relief, they didn’t all look like hippies. There were also two instructors in the room, and they huddled around Mia.
“Okay. It looks like everyone’s here, so I’m going to give you a few more rules.
It’s important to understand that in the next few days you’ll be diving deep into your personal journeys to learn about human nature, independently of what society has taught you.
We won’t be lecturing you or trying to persuade you of any philosophy.
We won’t ask you to follow a particular religion.
All you will learn here will emanate from your personal, introspective experience.
We’re only here to guide you and answer questions.
So, from now until the tenth day, you will not speak to one another.
We also recommend avoiding hand signals or eye contact.
If you want to ask the monk questions, ask us and we will arrange a time for you to do that.
We strongly advise against leaving in the middle of the process.
Doing so can have serious spiritual consequences.
After you’re assigned to your rooms, the monk will speak with you in the meditation hall and then you’ll go back to your rooms to sleep.
For those of you who were concerned about not waking up without an alarm clock – we will wake you with a gong at 4:45 a.m.”
She read the room assignments – four beds to a room.
We left the hall and I saw I’d been right.
The Koh Phangan sea was visible on the other side.
They had clearly chosen the location because of its natural beauty and serenity.
The rooms were wooden cabins divided into sections to minimize interaction among us.
Fifteen minutes later, a gong sounded, and we made our way to the meditation hall.
I wished I had a buddy to share a laugh with about this bizarre situation.
The surreal picture of 20 guys walking quietly to hear the wisdom of a monk was shareable material.
But my mood changed fast, and nothing seemed funny anymore.