Part Six: Solitary No More

Ten Days of Hell

Entry Number Six.  As usual, first the column as published in The Noise, with follow-up notes.

Being alone is hard for many people, but not for me.  Despite having a very social and public job, I’ve always been an introvert at heart.  I relish the rare chance to spend a quiet Sunday – kids gone, house to myself – alone in my pajamas all day.  The hermit lifestyle seems to me an ideal retirement.  Now, though, on the final day of a 10-day retreat where I could not talk, listen or share anything with anyone, I discover that the other side of me is stronger than I thought.

The morning of Day Ten comes, and all I can think about is leaving.  The rules are fairly clear when you arrive: no one is allowed to leave on Day Ten.  At about 9:30 A.M., silence is broken and we are allowed to talk freely once again.  Our teacher tells us that our serious work is done now.  Day Ten is about relaxing into the transition into the “real world.”  But I don’t care.  My first words upon the lifting of silence, after nine and a half days of my inner roller coaster of emotion, are to Yogi, the Course Manager: “I want to leave.  Now.”

This is a ruse, of course.  I can leave if I want.  I don’t need permission, and Yogi does not give it to me.  He says that he’ll ask the teacher but is pretty sure the answer will be no.  I’m happy to wait.  While I do, of course, all the other meditators are engaging in conversation.  One meditator approaches me – the one who I had called Shaggy in my head for ten days because he looked just like the character from the Scooby-Doo cartoon – and asks me how my retreat went.  We talk and it turns out he has a real name: Sam. Other meditators join our conversation. 

Two things stand out to me now that talking is back in my world.  First, people are smiling with light and expression in their faces.  It’s truly a joy to see.  Remember Eddie Murphy in ‘Raw’ talking about how if you’re starving then a plain cracker becomes the most glorious delicacy you’ve ever tasted in your life?  Well, after ten days of eyes pointed downward without expression, I feel that way about seeing smiles on people’s faces.  Suddenly, my world is full of joy again.  A smile from a male meditator, who had seemed creepy for ten days, makes me feel like there really is a chance for world peace and the end of hunger.

The other thing is that everyone talks about the pain and torment of these ten days.  As odd as it may sound, I had assumed that everyone else was working calmly and diligently like experienced meditators, throughout the retreat.  Of course, I had never meditated before coming here, and I assumed no one else was crazy enough to come here without some experience.  But that didn’t matter.  Even the experienced meditators struggled through this. 

This realization has a huge impact on me.  I had felt so alone, so dreadfully solitary for so long, that to have smiling faces tell stories about challenges similar to my own gives me hope about my struggle.  I begin to feel as if my deficiencies and shortcomings are not a result of my ineptitude, but rather a result of being human.  This is revelatory like the parting of the Red Sea.  Suddenly, the world has opened up again.  I feel free, alive, and bountifully happy. 

All of my fellow meditators now feel like life-long friends.  This is a shared experience, not a solitary one.  The connection I feel, not just to these other meditators, but also to the people in my life and to all human beings, is strong.  I discover that my desire for solitude is more about my desire for peace than it is about wanting to get away from people.  After all, without others who provide their mirrors, how will I ever I learn anything about myself?

~~~~~

1.  Shaggy (or "Sam" if I must) also asked me this: "Would you ever come back for another retreat?"  My response:  "Never. I would never again willingly put myself through this kind of torture.  Ever."  So my initial response to the "Ten Days of Hell" was indeed that: it was hell.  It wasn't until I was out in the world again, and re-experiencing my life with a renewed perspective and attitude, that I began to realize the benefits I had gained.  After time, I realized that eventually, I must go back.  It was too valuable an experience to not repeat, in hopes of keeping that new perspective alive in me.

2.  Day Ten is really a lot of fun.  Making new friends is one part.  You also get to have your things back.  I grabbed my phone and even got to text a few people.  I had been so badly craving these little "normal" things, it made Day Ten enjoyable to the point that I was actually a little sad to leave.  A little.

3. Best line of the retreat, this one by a guy I nick named "Mohawk"... which I have to set up first.  You see, after ten days of only being around men in all areas except the meditation hall, it's a little hard not to look over to the women's side of the hall during meditations.  Of course, no one can wear anything revealing while there, so all clothing was very modest.  Which meant that the only skin you'd see is a little bit of the neck and the ankles, maybe a forearm or two.  Boring, right?  Not after 6 or 7 days in the midst of hellish solitude!  That skin was all we had.  As Mohawk said on Day Ten, seeing those ankles was like Amish Porn.