Taking the Road Less Traveled

I don't want to go back.  It feels too soon.  But, my car is there and this is the next step in my journey.  I will get in the car and travel across the States, going where the road takes me.  Spontaneity is the goal...no plans, to the best of my ability since having a plan seems to be something that is comforting to me, a security blanket, but it is something that I want to discard.

After our Vipassana, Randy and I find our way back to Vancouver, where I enjoy a Starbucks Cafe Mocha.   We travel back to Seattle  to say our good-byes.  He is heading back to Hawaii and I will figure out my flights to get back to the East coast, to Connecticut where my car has been.  (My brother has been using it, and I feel a bit sad that I have to take it back since he has benefitted from it.)  I am filled with mixed emotions as I say good-bye to Randy, having so much gratitude for this kindred spirit who inspires me to live nomadically, authentically.  Simultaneously, I am looking forward to traveling alone again.  I give him one of my suitcases to use - lightening my load even more.  When he leaves, I meditate.  I am feeling quite at a loss having to live in the real world, to be without the silence and the profound connection that I felt during my Vipassana.

In Connecticut, my family welcomes me, and we catch up.  I get in the car and go to the place that I had called home for so many years, Boston.  It feels different going back, but it does feel like home.  I'm not ready to live there again, but it is great to be with my long time friends.  They remark on the changes in me, and I savor the feeling of being changed.  I am lighter, not just physically, but emotionally.  I am starting to get past the burnout and the joy for living has come to the forefront.

My car is packed with my few belongings, including camping gear.  I am off to beach hop down the East coast.  However, my first stop is in D.C. to visit my nephew who is going to school at Georgetown.  I have gifts for him from his mom, my sister.  After a short visit, I find my way to the Hyatt.  I have splurged on a hotel room which overlooks Arlington National Cemetery, where my father is buried.  It has begun to snow.  The bed is plush and I crawl into this luxurious environment, grateful to Hotwire.com that allowed me to get this for a minimal cost.  I even was able to overlook the judgmental looks that I got when checking in with my casual attire, backpack and especially when they saw how I managed to book a room at the Hyatt for so little money.  I am elated with the freedom that is before me.  I pick up the phone and call Jeff, my good friend who is supporting my every step.  Eventually, I will arrive at Jeff's, who lives outside of Atlanta, GA.

My next stop is Virginia Beach, where I will stay for 3 nights.  I am almost there, near the ocean - I can sense it, but I am getting lost and it is getting dark.  Since I am trying to be spontaneous, I haven't booked a room.  I start to get nervous.  I want to be settled before dark. Another fear to walk through while traveling solo.  At this point, I accept that the darkness triggers fear and I get my bearings and I find a place on the ocean.  It is a relief to get out of the car and to be in my room.


It is off season (February), the weather is cool but I am able to walk the beach daily. And, I opt to keep the windows open in order to be soothed by the ocean waves during the night.  I rest, to recover from the energy that was required to be back in my old life.  It was a drain despite the enjoyment of seeing my family.  I had to use more energy than I wanted in order to not slip back into old patterns and not to feel the guilt that I had left - that I was living a life that they couldn't comprehend and I couldn't find the words that would help them to understand.  Or, maybe they just weren't hearing me when I did provide an explanation.  They are often caught up in their own lives and are not always present when I am talking.  This has been an issue for me - not being heard, not feeling as though my life has the same importance as their own is to them.  I don't think they do it intentionally.  I know somewhere along the way this dynamic was established, and I participated in it. And, they have found themselves in the mainstream of a busy life with obligations I no longer want or choose to participate in.  To them, it doesn't make sense - I don't make sense to them, or at least this is my perspective.  To me, it is difficult to navigate my way out of it without the mixed bag of emotions and the emotional drain.

So, I go to the beach.  I resonate with the beach.  It is healing.  I am here to continue to recover and find a way to become the secure, confident, and life-loving person I know that I am.

My Vipassana Experience

I sit in my chair with a pillow underneath me.  I am in the first day of a ten day silent retreat, a Vipassana.  We will be meditating for 11 hours of each day.  We are allowed to move during our first sitting, to transition to sitting like a statue for the remainder of the time.  We are given a few minutes after each hour for the bathroom and to walk around.  We are not allowed to give each other any eye contact or interact whatsoever.  Interestingly, we move around each other with a flow that only increases in grace over the next 9 days.  In this, we are given opportunities to practice patience, to move slowly, to be aware of each other's movements without acknowledging them, but responding in silence and changing the course of our direction.


I find myself feeling 'known' even though I am amongst strangers.  It is an odd feeling.  I have the opportunity to put myself first, which I have always struggled to do.  In this environment, my needs and desires are as important as anyone else's.  I can give fully to myself in all aspects.  I can almost pretend that everyone else is invisible at times, the way I have often felt in my life.  Here, I am seen, even though no one is looking directly at me.  I am present - and that is enough.  Yet, despite this, there is a bonding that is happening in our movements, our silent commitment to each other and to ourselves.  We are respectful of each other in a way that doesn't often happen in the busyness of life.

I fall into the rhythm of the day.  The 4:30 a.m. chimes to awaken us.  I sit up to meditate.  We are allowed the first hour before breakfast to be in our rooms, and not in the meditation hall.  We eat breakfast in silence.  We flow to the meditation hall at the sound of the chime and take our places.  The pillows in each area continue to grow as each day passes.  Pains and uncomfortableness are trying to be thwarted with these pillows.  It isn't successful.  Yet, I am able to concentrate on my meditation and let the energy pass through me.  I am aware of each and every block, every pain - physical and emotional.  There is a release and a comfort that comes with this focus.  At one point, the Kundalini energy flows upward, through my spine and I am elated.  Finally!  After all these years!

I connect on a profound level, with myself, my spirit guides, and to my experiences, which leads me to a deeper understanding and encourages me along the path that I have started - to live a nomadic lifestyle.  The trust and surrender that I have been seeking, seem to be more than possible - they are, at present, a reality.

We are given time to be outside, to walk in the woods.  I hear the crunch of  footsteps on the snowy trails.   There is a pattern to each individual and within the group.  There are some who walk the same path over and over, and there are some who walk a different path each time, and some who go with the flow, moving in sync, changing their steps to the rhythm of others - a metaphor for how we walk through our lives?  I am grateful that I choose to walk down different paths spontaneously, to explore each trail and to transition to the unknown.

There are times that the meditation is a huge struggle - there is an overwhelming desire to scratch the itches, stretch or shift to relieve the tension and the aches, or just move to distract myself from the emotions that are arising.  But, I remain committed - to not moving, to not letting myself get distracted from the goal of this 10 day mediation.  It is true, every itch, pain and desire passes with the letting go, with the inward focus, in the silence.

The tenth day comes with mixed emotions.  We are now amongst the talking and our 'grace and flow' is disrupted by the chatter.  We aren't as present as we were when we were in silence.  I am missing the silence.  I feel at a loss somehow....I want to hold on to the feeling that I AM, amongst the crowd, no matter where I am, even without the silence.  Yet, it is good to hear the laughter as we share our stories, our experiences and observations.  I catch up with Randy who had been sitting only a few seats down from me during the meditations.  I could sense him but I could not sense his experience - whether it was good or not.  We both give each other time to share as much as we want.   I do not disclose my own full experience because it feels as though it should be left in my heart.  I remember a quote from my Remote Viewing course - Honor the Silence of the Heart.  This seems a time to do so.

I walk away from that Vipassana with a lightness that I have never experienced before - in my body, in my mind and in my heart.  Meditation, no matter for how long one does it, has great benefits.  I am grateful.

Journey to the Vipassana Centre

Randy and I are sitting on the bus that will take us out of Vancouver, BC.  We're heading to the Merritt Vipassana* Centre amongst the mountains. It is a 3 hour drive. The feeling is of excitement and a bit of fear, although, I speak for myself only.  We are entering an unknown event for 10 days, something that neither of us have done before and there is some trepidation.

When we booked this meditation retreat, we didn't realize the steps that would be needed to get there.  First we didn't realize that it was so far from Vancouver, but we probably should have.  And, there is no bus stop for this Centre and the Centre is not in a town.  We are fortunately dropped off at the side of the highway.   I say fortunate, because as we find out while boarding the bus, the driver has the option to not do this, meaning we would need to go to the next town which is quite a distance away.  The driver is feeling generous.  There are others who are doing this, as we come to find out while sitting on the bus, so it isn't just the two of us.

We stop, disembark, within seconds the bus is gone.  We look around to see the panoramic view of the mountains...it is cold. Crisp.  Snowy.  'Stranded' comes to mind.  We stand in bewilderment as what we will do next when we all turn to the sound of the van pulling up.    We climb into the back.  There are no windows and it feels like we are being smuggled into another country.  There isn't much talk, yet I sense an underlying energy vibrating that seems similar to mine.  After 20 minutes or so, we park, the van doors open and we are in the snowy mountains, in the middle of nowhere, with lots of trees.  Breathtaking.  Silence.  I think I am going to like this!

We are escorted to the building and separated by gender.  We will have one more opportunity to co-mingle before the meditation starts and then we will be separated except during meditation time, yet, that is silent.


We are interviewed, which feels quite awkward.  I am nervous and make a joke.  I guess no joking is allowed because I get the question repeated back to me.  Basically, it is a commitment interview that I am willing to follow all the rules:  must be silent, no interactions, no eating in the rooms, no lies (hard to do if you can't talk), no sex of any kind, etc., etc.  Many rules, also known as the code of discipline in this format...no problem.  I can do almost anything for 10 days, although I am questioning my ability to sit in total silence, without any movement for 11 hours a day, for 10 days.  Silent, I can be, the challenging part is 'without any movement '.  I imagine the sudden need to constantly scratch throughout the whole meditation.  This could be a problem.

I am concerned about the food, a vegetarian/vegan diet which doesn't really resonate with me at this time.  It will be a struggle.  The meals are limited.  We get three sparse meals each day with the third meal being fruit and soup.  Those who have done this get tea and water for the third meal.  I guess I am lucky.  However, I am called a grazer when it comes to eating, preferring to eat smaller meals throughout the day.  The grazer that I am doesn't really appreciate this way of eating.

I find out that I get one of the private rooms.  They are not soundproofed whatsoever, so even though I have some walls to provide a sense of privacy and space, I can hear everything.  Luckily we will be silent so I won't hear talking.  Snoring, yes.....

I am grateful for the private room, having had my fill of sharing a room in my childhood, college, and the early years in Boston.  I no longer share a room with the same ease and comfort.  I like my space.

From watthaidc.org

I have opted to sit in a chair to do the meditations so I am placed against the back wall.  I have a view of all of the other meditators except for those who are with me, against the wall.  I was concerned that I would not manage in lotus position for 11 hours a day with my back and neck issues.

We are gathered together to start our meditation.  One minute down, only 10 hours and 59 minutes to go.....a breeze.  Just joking.  We get our instructions and we get called up to the instructor.  It is a formal hello and we return to our spot - our spot for the next 10 days, 11 hours a day.

The chime.....and we are off.....into silence......





(From www.dhamma.org/en/vipassana.shtml):

*The Technique


Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of India's most ancient techniques of meditation. It was rediscovered by Gotama Buddha more than 2500 years ago and was taught by him as a universal remedy for universal ills, i.e., an Art Of Living.

This non-sectarian technique aims for the total eradication of mental impurities and the resultant highest happiness of full liberation. Healing, not merely the curing of diseases, but the essential healing of human suffering, is its purpose.

Vipassana is a way of self-transformation through self-observation. It focuses on the deep interconnection between mind and body, which can be experienced directly by disciplined attention to the physical sensations that form the life of the body, and that continuously interconnect and condition the life of the mind. It is this observation-based, self-exploratory journey to the common root of mind and body that dissolves mental impurity, resulting in a balanced mind full of love and compassion.