I spent eight days at the Wat Pa Tam Wua Forest Monastery in Northern Thailand. My time there was spent in meditation, practicing and learning about Vipassana and Samadhi meditation techniques and about Buddhism. Under the guidance of seven monks, we had daily Dhamma talks, guided sitting, walking, and lying down meditations.
The days followed a strict schedule of waking up at 5:00am for morning meditation, 6:30am rice offering to the monks, 7:00am breakfast, 8:00am meditation (walking then sitting), 10:30am lunch offering to monks, 11:00am lunch, 1:00pm meditation (walking then sitting), 4:00pm chores and cleaning, 5:00pm free time, 6:00pm evening chanting and meditation (sitting), 8:00pm meditation on your own, 10:00pm bedtime.
I decided to spend five of my days there in silence. Silence wasn’t a requirement of staying at the monastery, but it was an option I decided to take advantage of. As the maximum days allowable to stay at the monastery was 10 days, there was a constant flow of people, ranging from 50 to 120 at any given day, a broad spread of people from around the world, including many people from Thailand as well.
There are many odd things about living in a Buddhist monastery. Dancing, singing, and even yoga are all forbidden. So is touching members of the opposite sex, even a handshake is not permitted. There are only three sitting positions allowed: cross-legged (and all variations including lotus and half-lotus), kneeling, and seated with the knees swept to the side.
I wanted to share some of my take-aways from my time spent at Wat Pa Tam Wua in silent meditation.
- Much can be expressed without words. A tiny small or a small gesture can successfully convey meaning. I had to rely on tiny gestures for requests, questions, or giving answers such as when asking someone if they needed help carrying things. I was dazzled by all I could convey with a simple move of my hands or head.
- My desire for connections is fierce, not being able to connect with others, to be heard, to listen, to know what is on another’s mind and share what is on mine, is intrinsic to who I am.
- I can be my own best friend. Just as I practice witnessing my own thoughts and not being actively engaged or lost in them, I can also become a friend to myself in my mind. I can internally provide myself companionship.
- There is comfort in community. Even doing dishes with others around me, I could feel the energy of other’s around me. It kept loneliness as bay.
- My mind loves to think. I didn’t realize before how many thoughts I usually think in a day. My mind usually drifts all over the place, constantly shifting from past, present, future to analyzing, reflecting, projecting. Practicing on quieting my mind and bringing it to stillness for seven hours a day was a challenge.
- I felt a new kinship towards animals. I would coo to the geckos and greet the bugs. If a fly or a bug landed on me when I was walking, I would think to myself, “Alright, buddy you can come along for the ride.” When a butterfly keep fluttering around me and landing on my legs, tears filled my eyes. I wrote a poem about a solitary ant that was on my sink.
