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something I wrote in April, 2004. When I was still meditating regularly…

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Sitting On My Pain… Sitting With My Pain
by Michael Ian Lomongo

“The essence of meditation is nowness…it is not aimed at achieving a higher state or at following some theory or idea, but simply, without any object or ambition, trying to see what is here and now.”

– Chogyam Trungpa

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I. In a few more days, it will be six months since I’ve started doing sitting-meditation. Regularly. Two hours. Daily. An hour in the morning, and another one in the evening. Alright, there are days when (due to partying with friends) I get to sit for just an hour (and days when I don’t get to sit at all), but I’d say I’ve been pretty consistent in my practice.

For the longest time, I’ve been meaning to meditate. Problem was, I didn’t know how. Sure, I’ve encountered several books on meditation and had some general idea about what took place during the “practice” but it was all in some kind of a haze. The closest I’ve come to a meditation practice was journal writing (specifically, Julia Cameron’s “morning pages”). And even then, I just couldn’t discipline myself to write three pages everyday.

And then I read an article by Bela Lipat in the Inquirer about this 10-day meditation course, Vipassana, that was given for free (yey!). This was June 2003. The article mentioned that the next course would be given October of that same year. I kept the article and resolved to apply for the course.

Just before October came, I e-mailed Sr. Angelita Walker, RSCJ (who was responsible for bringing Vipassana to the Philippines) about my desire to join the course. She directed me to www.dhamma.org to read the code of conduct for those intending to join the course. There I found out that I’d have to keep “noble silence” (absolute silence), cut off communication with the “outside world,” refrain from reading, writing, intoxicating substances, and killing mosquitoes, eat vegetarian food, etc. And all these for the duration of the 10-day course.

Whew! Stringent requirements. Fit for a monk. But I was a Catholic seminarian for nine years! So I thought I could handle the requirements. Still, I was a bit apprehensive. Foremost in my mind was the question: Can I really survive a 10-day meditation course? (I mean, what else do you do in a meditation course but err… meditate? For ten days! In the seminary we had an hour of daily meditation, and most of my “meditation time” was spent sleeping! Even with the best of intentions, can I really cope with meditating the whole day – for ten days?)

I filled out the application form at the last minute and e-mailed it to Sr. Lita.

It was one of the best last-minute decisions I made in my life. Heck, it was one of the best decisions I made in my life, last-minute or not.

Naturally, I didn’t get the confirmation letter until the last minute.

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II. In the course, I found out that meditation is hard work. Ironic, but true. You wake up at 4:00 a.m., sit, try to keep still, pay attention to your breathing, and then later, to the sensations in your body… all apparently amounting to doing nothing. And yet, at the end of the day, you are quite tired, gladly welcome the scheduled bedtime at 9:00 p.m. and consider the words “Take rest. Take rest. Take rest.” to be the kindest mantra in the whole world.

I discovered a lot of repressed anger and irritation surfacing up during the course. And once during a sitting, I rediscovered a pain I thought I’ve already let go.

I left the course site with a mixed feeling of elation and melancholy, and a strong kinship with those wonderful (then) strangers I was simultaneously alone and together with.

—

III. I’ve been meaning to meditate for the longest time. I’ve been meaning to meditate to discipline my mind and body. You see, I’m probably one of the laziest people you’d find in the world. I’d always find an excuse not to do something. Even if I wanted to do it.

It’s probably not laziness per se. It’s probably a perfectionist streak, minus the strength of will to back it up, plus the fear of failure. I figured if I learned how to meditate properly, I’d have more focus, more discipline, and more heart.

That was the pragmatic end I desired from a meditation practice.

At the same time, I’ve also been looking for a specific spiritual practice since I stopped going to Mass regularly and declared myself “colorum” and “more spiritual than religious.”

Now, almost six months into the practice, I’d say I’m making some progress. I’ve been keeping the hours, and I tell you, man, that is something!

—

IV. The following are some of the benefits I’ve been getting through my meditation practice:

1) I’m becoming more patient with myself – and other people, too.

2) I’m becoming more aware of my negative reactions to certain people, situations, and things.

3) I’m becoming more daring and courageous to do crazy things and make a fool of myself. (I know, most people do not consider this as a benefit. I do.)

4) I’m becoming more discerning to know what I really want.

5) I’m becoming more trusting in people and divine providence.

6) I’m realizing that happiness and starting again are – always – an option open to me.

7) I’m realizing (more and more) that what matters more is not so much the greatness of a task as the love with which this task, great or small, is undertaken.

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V. Vipassana is a meditation technique that’s very accessible to people of varying creeds/belief-systems.

Although Vipassana is, like Zen, sitting-meditation that is attributed to Gotama Buddha, its practitioners do not form some kind of a sect or religion. It can be practiced by anyone affiliated to any religious or non-religious sect/organization. Whether you’re a Christian, a Moslem, a Buddhist, a Hindu, or even an Atheist, you can do Vipassana.

Vipassana meditation is accessible to everyone because it does not make use of any mantra or visualization (and all the religious beliefs tied up with these things). All you need to have to be able to learn the technique are the following: the ability to breathe and feel sensations in your body, the willingness to learn and adhere to the code of conduct during the course.

And best of all, it’s given for free! (Gratis et amore!)

—

VI. A lot of my new friends and acquaintances would be surprised to know that I’m an introvert. (They’d probably say I’m more of a pervert. Hehehe.) But really, I’m the kind of person who’s given to much introspection. In fact, I’ve often been told – and I know it too – that I live too much in my head.

That is why I like alcohol and intoxication. It provides me a relief from the prison of “thinking too much” and lets me be aware of the throbbing in my temples… of the emotions that I feel… of the itchiness on my head… (No, I hope it’s not lice. Probably dandruff. Hahaha!)

And this is why I like Vipassana even better. It teaches me to be aware of all these things alcohol makes me aware of. And more, it teaches me to see the thoughts that come to my mind for what they really are – not as necessarily negative, but as essentially the same as the sensations in my body – ephemeral, temporary.

Vipassana does not lead to more (and all-too-often useless) introspection. But neither does it kill it. Rather, it grounds you to your breathing and bodily sensations.

Although Vipassana is a form of sitting-meditation, it is neither (and for that matter, all other proper forms of meditation) “sitting-fence” nor “sitting-duck” meditation. What I mean is that it doesn’t provide an escape from being “engaged” with the world. Rightly undertaken, it doesn’t lead you to passivity, to becoming an “apathetic observer” or a “helpless victim.”

Perhaps the first major obstacle to the continuity of practice is the sheer physical pain that you start feeling when you begin to sit, granting that you haven’t dozed off to sleep – in your legs, in your ass, in your back, in your shoulders, even in your neck, heck, even in your nails and hair.

No stranger to experiencing prolonged physical pain (I’ve been an asthmatic since infancy.), I tell myself “Everything is temporary. This too shall pass.”

I sit on my pain. And remember the many people who have had to endure great physical pains without their choosing.

Once you have managed to live with the pain, all sorts of pain start to compete for your attention… emotional, psychological, existential, real, imaginary, trivial…

I sit on my pain. And remember the many people to whom consciously or unconsciously I have been a pain… in the neck… in the ass…

Vipassana teaches me not to run away from pain that is here and now. But to ease it by seeing it as it is. Ephemeral. Temporary. “You too, as I too, shall pass.”

And finally, I sit with my pain. And let it be my teacher and friend. I realize how I am bound in communion with the rest of suffering humanity through my pain. And I develop compassion for people, who like me are molded and transfigured by pain.

There are times when I’m in such a funk that I’d rather not sit and meditate. And I always end up grateful when I do. Sit, rather than not-sit. Even when I don’t necessarily feel better after the sitting.

Oh, I’m sure that you’ll get through the course once you resolve to take it. After all ten days are still just ten days. The more interesting curiosity for me is what happens to your meditation practice after the course.

You may find that it was not really to your liking. Then, you go on with the search for your path.

But if you think and feel (like I do!) that it is a good practice, a path with a heart (lots of heart!), then I suggest that you prepare to make some changes/adjustments. For you will have to find the time. You will have to make time. Daily, if possible.

I’m sure it will cause some inconvenience. For some, greater than the others’. (I’m lucky Vipassana came to my life while I’m technically a bum. I had no problems about finding time. I had lots of time.) But, for whatever it’s worth, I’m telling you, “It’s definitely worth it. Worth it, and more. Infinitely more.”

I’m raving. As lunatics do. As I do.

I’m also learning how to sit on my joy. “You too, as I too, shall pass.”

Soon enough, I too will be learning to simply sit with my joy. What joy, `no?

Bhavatu sabba mangalam! (May all beings be happy!)

Tags: Life, Meditation, spirituality, Vipassana

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 21st, 2008 at 6:56 am and is filed under Life, Love, Philosophy, Psychology, spirituality. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.