Vipassana Silent Meditation Boot Camp

Journey To The Depth of Mind

Ten hours of meditation per day, for ten days, no talking allowed.

The experience is so powerful, it literary blows through your mind.

I just returned from a 10-day Vipassana course at Illinois Vipassana Meditation Center in Pecatonica (Illinois).

I am writing this at the risk of sounding crazy, especially if you are like me until recently and have never heard of Vipassana before.

This is a long blog post, and I hope you have good 20 minutes to spare. Much like the program itself, it does not work if you quit in the middle (might even be more harmful). But the end result was amazingly insightful and blissful I feel obligated to share this.

The program overview

I call this a boot camp, not a retreat, because there was nothing relaxing or fun about it at least for a good portion. It was crazy intense, gruesome work and long hours (4am-9pm), physically demanding and mentally exacerbating.

It was taught by venerable Mr. S. N. Goenka, who spread the practice through various Vipassana centers around the world. The centers are run entirely by volunteers and free for all, including food and lodging (funded by donations), and open to anyone interested. No pervious meditation experience is necessary.

The Illinois Vipassana Center is located about 2 hours from Chicago in the middle of farmland. As a newbie, my only class option was a full 10-day course, which requires all students to stay in a dorm-style accommodation at the center. I signed up for this last November when it first opened for registration as it seemed to fill up quickly. My group included about 40 people of all ages, 50% men and 50% women.

Noble Silence (silence of body, speech, and mind) is required from the evening preceding Day 1 through the morning of Day 10. That means no talking, no eye contact, not even gestures. Men and women are to be separated during the program.

There is a rigid schedule, with one meditation session after another with brief breaks in-between. The day begins when a bell rings at 4am.  Students sit and meditate for roughly 10 hours a day through 8 daily sessions, each lasting for 1-2 hours, from 4:30am till 9pm. Most sessions have varying amount of taped recordings played in the beginning and at the end.

Meditation is done either as a group in the dimly lit meditation hall where everyone has a pre-assigned seat, or solo in the dorm room (there are three mandatory daily group sessions).

Additionally, there is an hour of daily sitting for discourse, where Mr. Goenka breaks down what students are going through in videotaped recordings.

There is no dinner – only breakfast, lunch, and tea and fruit time in the evening. No outside food is permitted, and all students eat together in silence in the dining hall. There are only brief breaks after meals, but there is not much to do anyway, with no phone, TV, reading, writing, or exercising.

How the meditation works

I find this difficult to explain given the depth of the practice and as it is so outside my conventional common sense.  Here is a much simplified version as I understand it.

Vipassana, an ancient Buddhist-style meditation method, aims at experiencing that everything is changing real time (starting with your own body) and changing the way you react to sensations by taking control of the mind.

Thinking about the past or the future is what brings out misery (re-experiencing unpleasant sensation) or craving (attachment to pleasant sensation you want to recur). The meditation trains you to observe the present and sharpen the mind.

As you feel from within how transient everything is, it becomes clear there is no point in holding onto any negative or positive sensations.

By not reacting to sensations, you train the mind to ‘detach’, changing the mind behavior at the subconscious level. No more aversion, and no more craving. This is called  equanimous – a balanced mind, undisturbed by pleasant or unpleasant sensations, so you can see things as they truly are.

When detached from sensations, the mind has nothing to feed off of, and the old memory associated with those sensations starts to float up and dissipate. Hence you are released from the past agony or attachment to some idea for the future.

As you realize you cannot control the present sensations, ego is diminished as well.

And if you manage to reach the highest purest state, you are left with nothing but love and compassion.

As a novice, I am not fit to talk about the meditation technique itself. I trust there is plenty of information on Google, but to really understand, you have to experience it yourself.

Why did I do it?

Seated meditation was not something I had much interest in before. I am someone who likes to move, and my daily yoga practice served as my moving meditation.

Around the time I resigned my full time job, a few of my dear yoga teachers brought up their experiences with silent meditation during classes. There was something about the way they described it that intrigued me.

I signed up for Vipassana out of curiosity, especially since I had the luxury of time to do it. That was one of my best decisions ever.

It was a good thing I did not do much research into it beforehand. If I had known all the pains I would experience, I may not have done it. My ignorance was my blessing.

My experience

The experience is different for everyone. Here is what mine was like.

Day 0, the program is kicked off with a group meditation in the evening. In just 1 hour, I go from anxiously excited to a complete dismay with the onslaught of massive physical discomfort. Maybe I should have tried sitting on the floor for an hour before coming.

Day 1, one of my longest days ever.

At first, aches would pop up in small areas, and then gradually spread to cover my entire legs, hips, back, shoulders, and neck. My inflexibility seems to make everything worse. I fidget incessantly to fight the discomfort.

By the end of a one-hour session, I am reaching my pain threshold and mental tolerance capacity. I desperately stretch during a short break and am in fear as I prepare to sit again. This repeats eight times.

I immediately request a private consultation with the onsite assistant teacher and am encouraged to use the help of cushions (for meditation hall) and a chair (for in-room meditation) and keep trying.

All day long, all I can think of is how much pain I am in, how much time is left, and why I had to choose this torment during what is supposed to be an extended vacation. This is more like hell. But I tell myself things have to get better.

Day 2, already thinking about all the things I would do after the program including a desperately needed massage. I realize there is little free time if I want to eat, shower, and brush teeth.

I build a meticulous empire of cushions underneath me, but the discomfort is only marginally better.

By the time the 3:30pm session starts and I hear a recording saying “Start again”, I am almost in tears. I have already sat through 18 hours of misery since the start of the program, including 7 hours that day.  The last thing I want to do, only 10 minutes after the previous session, is to sit for another hour.

My whole body is screaming, and my mind is rebelling. Minutes seem to stretch into eternity. It takes me every bit of my will power to stay in the room. But I stay, telling myself I will never get another chance to do something this crazy.

By evening discourse, I am completely worn out and struggle to stay awake. I find Mr. Goenka annoying as I blame him for all my pains.

By Day 3, I learn to fidget less through sheer will power. I start to notice that pains fade slightly if I focus on the area I am told to concentrate my mind on. I also notice a slightly quieter mind.

Lunch becomes my favorite time of the day (freshly prepared vegetarian meals, complete with a dessert!), despite the awkwardness of sitting with people that you can’t even make eye contact with.

The day remains excruciatingly long, and my pains start to return more quickly after breaks. By the last session ends at 9pm, all I want to do is to crawl into bed. Any bed will do.

Day 4, I am in horror as I silently stare at a sign that read it was Vipassana Day.  I had gone through only the prep time.

I stop wearing a watch as it was adding to my misery.

During one meal around this time, I notice a woman sitting with her eyes closed, exuding pure serenity, with the most graceful smile on her face (she turned out to be a repeat student). Her image sticks to my mind.

That evening, Adhittana (strong determination) is introduced, meaning no more fidgeting during the three daily group sessions.

Day 5, I wake up to unwelcome residual aches. Things are not getting any easier.

It throws me off my body clock (I had learned to measure roughly how much time was left in a session by the level of pain and numbness).

I start panicking when the closing chant does not start on time by my internal measure. Did I miss a sign about a ten-minute extension? I begin to pant and sweat and grab onto my knees with all my might as if I would  pass out otherwise. After what feels like an eternity, the chant does come, and I realize I did all that to myself.

Day 6, continued ups and downs, but mostly downs.

I start getting angry that things are not under my control.  Maybe this does not work for me. But I remember Mr. Goenka discussing doubt as a powerful deterrent.

The discourses turn out to be spot on, and Mr. Goenka becomes more likable. His discussions are thorough and logical. I also find him credible as he was formerly a successful businessman who turned to Vipassana because of his migraine. He is not even Indian (OK, his heritage is) or Buddhist, which goes to show the all-inclusive nature of the practice. He is also quite hilarious and brings out my only laughter of the day.

Day 7, when asked by the assistant teacher how I was progressing towards equanimity (balance of mind) in the morning, I answer I feel very far away.

But later in the day, a small but definitive shift begins to take hold. The pain is still there (albeit a tiny bit less). But I am able to observe them more objectively and sit with more ease.

My mind’s dialogue went like this:

• Before: “My entire back aches, and this stinks!”
• Now: “There is a pronounced discomfort in my mid back and upper back. Now let’s move on to observe the other areas as instructed”.

The discourse that evening warns us that we are coming onto the last two days of serious work (Day 10 we start talking), and that we would undergo a ‘deep surgical operation’.

Day 8, I wake up to a dream of my late father and grandfather, both of whom passed away almost a decade ago. I am in a large kitchen with big pots filled with food, but the kitchen is so messy I struggle to put the plates together. I could tell they are both starving but patiently waiting.

About halfway through the first morning session, I have an outburst of tears. There was no trigger and no thoughts that came with it. I don’t feed any emotion and quietly observe the phenomenon, not having a clue as to why I was crying. I move only to blow my nose to breathe.

When I bow down at the end of the session, I am startled as drops fall out of my big turtleneck. My ‘deep surgical operation’ must have started.

Day 9, in my dream, my old boss tells me that all the female employees at the bank are going to get a big jump in income (and I won’t be part of it since I no longer worked there). I start defending my resignation but feel happy for my female colleagues.

Did I really just dream about money? Or was it a glimpse of what is being released from me? If it’s the former, more purification needed!

We are reminded it was the last day to work seriously. I naturally respond to the deadline and spend almost all of the sessions in the meditation hall.

My body starts to feel lighter, and I can detect subtle sensations even underneath the superficial aches.

Day 10, Noble Silence ends, and the transition back to the outer world begins. As I start chatting for the first time in 10 days, my body is overcome with a burst of heat and hunger. I find myself surrounded by an amazing group of super social people, who each fought her own fight. We are all ecstatic and share boundless happiness. I have never experienced so much concentrated positive energy in my life.

Day 11, one final meditation mixed with discourse.  I can hardly contain my excitement to tell the world about this experience and share my new inner glow. We are discharged after breakfast, and our cell phones are returned.

Back in the real world  

I went back to a yoga class with one of the teachers that had told me about Vipassana. Despite not moving for 11 days, I found improved flexibility, new strength underneath shaking muscles, and a much greater level of concentration. Something has opened up, and I have never felt this good in my body and mind before.

I could not thank the volunteer staffs enough as they worked day and night tirelessly to take care of our daily needs, shovel the snow, and light our way back to the dorm on icy evenings.

It was humbling to be completely at the charity of others. As mentioned, the program is funded by donations from past students who have benefited from it, and thus, you are inheriting good karma to start with.

Now the real test begins as to whether I can keep up this practice and spread my happiness. I realize it was only a small step that I took, but I know I am on the right path.

Thank you for reading this very long blog. I hope to have planted any amount of interest or awareness in you, since that was how it all began for me.

If you liked the story, please spread it. Vipassana is spread purely through word of mouth, carried on by sincere intentions.

“May all beings be happy.” – S.N. Goenka

Love & Peace,

StiffYogi

Vipassana centers global homepage: https://www.dhamma.org/en/index

P.S. If you have any questions about my experience, please feel free to email me at stiffestyogi@gmail.com. Also, if you had the fortune to experience Vipassana yourself, I would love to hear about your experience!

P.P.S. The contact form (on the right) is finally working effective 1/31/17!  Please re-submit any subscription request.  Really sorry for the inconvenience, but this is a learning process for me.  My next post will not be until the end of February at the earliest as I will be focused on doing the traveling part. Stay tuned for New Zealand and Australia stories to come!