It's a fine line between pleasure and pain ...
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| I am the Equani Mouse! |
I decided to do the Vipassana
Meditation Course because I wanted to go deeper in terms of ‘waking up’ from
needless suffering and haunting desire.
I had forgiven The Rooster for
behaving aggressively when he had his big break down at the end of January. It
seemed I was doing incredibly well and could face my own inner demons.
On April 22nd, we met up in
Devonport for his birthday. We’d been talking again, re-building friendship,
but this was the first time I’d seen him face to face since the day I left
Waiheke in a mess of tears.
I took my guitar and played
the songs I’d been working on. The sun broke out over the sea and a double
rainbow appeared. We hugged for a long time and it felt like home. I was surprised my love was so present. I
thought I would focus on all his faults and find him no longer to my taste, but
it wasn’t the case. When we went to the ferry building we hugged again, and
then he kissed me softly. I kissed him, and then again, and it was brief but
passionate. My heart lifted. I wondered if we were going to get back together. I would be
patient with him. I would respect the space that had opened up between us over the months that had gone by.
When we were next to meet up
to play guitar together he made excuses not to meet me. I was harsh with my
responses and then he admitted he started worrying and thinking, thinking,
thinking. Stop thinking, I advised.
Feel. I sent a harsh email but that my love does not get shaken by a storm. He
said he wasn’t sure he deserved my love.
He apologised for his selfishness.
Warmth crept back in. Yes, I thought, all the pain has been worth it. There is
so much love here. Before I went away, the trajectory seemed set. The texts and
phone calls were frequent.
Romance was back on the menu. With this in mind I
went to Vipassana in Kaukapakapa, New Zealand. it's in a beautiful setting, and there's a small walk through the woods that eventually serves to remind you of the path you walk within.
Vipassana Meditation isn't religious, but it is based on the teachings
of Buddha and involves a pretty intense meditation routine. No communicating
(not even eye contact) for 10 days, no sexual shenanigans (including
masturbation), no lying, no killing, no singing, no dancing etc. The rules are
there to help people get into the zone, something that becomes clearer as the
days go by. There was also complete segregation from the males which gave them
an even greater allure.
THE COURSE TIMETABLE
The following timetable for the course has been designed to maintain the
continuity of practice. For best results students are advised to follow it as
closely as possible.
4:00
am
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Morning
wake-up bell
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4:30-6:30
am
|
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Meditate
in the hall or in your room
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6:30-8:00
am
|
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Breakfast
break
|
8:00-9:00
am
|
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Group
meditation in the hall
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9:00-11:00
am
|
|
Meditate
in the hall or in your room according to the teacher's instructions
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11:00-12:00 noon
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Lunch
break
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12noon-1:00
pm
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Rest
and interviews with the teacher
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1:00-2:30
pm
|
|
Meditate
in the hall or in your room
|
2:30-3:30
pm
|
|
Group
meditation in the hall
|
3:30-5:00
pm
|
|
Meditate
in the hall or in your own room according to the teacher's instructions
|
5:00-6:00
pm
|
|
Tea
break
|
6:00-7:00
pm
|
|
Group
meditation in the hall
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7:00-8:15
pm
|
|
Teacher's
Discourse in the hall
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8:15-9:00
pm
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|
Group
meditation in the hall
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9:00-9:30
pm
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Question
time in the hall
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9:30
pm
|
|
Retire
to your own room--Lights out
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On Day One: I
was vaguely bored. We were all focusing on natural breath, the feeling of
physical sensation around the triangular region of the nose, nostrils and
underneath the nose. I kept wandering away in my mind, constructing fantasies
about having a shop, writing a book, becoming a teacher, travelling to Thailand
and Vietnam, recording my songs, learning to sew. I feared not speaking for 10
days, but soon realised it was a great relief to me. I usually talk a great
deal and sometimes I can’t even seem to stop all the words pouring out; to be
silent felt quite luxurious. The luxury of nothing.
On Day
two, when I got my ‘moon time’ I got incredibly horny and fantasised about
some of the great sex I’ve had, then about great sex I might yet have. I fantasised about great sex I was unlikey to
ever have (two hot men, that sort of thing). It was very, very pleasurable to
get lost in these fantasies at first. I made up all sorts of stories and acted
them out in my mind over and over again. I burned and burned. That's the burn of addiction and eventually you find that it really is the craving itself that you get lost in.
When you are meditating off
and on for at least 10 hours a day and all you keep thinking of is sex, it goes
from being pleasurable to painful.
Surely a little bit of self help couldn’t hurt? There was an assistant
teacher assigned to the women and one for the men. I asked her if the no sex
thing really did apply to masturbation and with wide eyes she said it did. Well, I could have broken the rules of
course. Who would have known? But I was determined to ‘do it properly’ and
wished someone could tie my hands up so that I wasn’t tempted. Tied up. Leads
to another fantasy. On it went.
Men speak of ‘blue balls’ and now I can tell you the female
equivalent: ‘red walls’. The inside of one’s cunt is made of aching molten
lava, it pulses and cries out as if it has a whole life of it’s own. It
actually reaches a point where it hurts. Fortunately I had a lot of other physical
pain, so now and then I could observe it and momentarily focus on something other than my fantasies.
It seemed impossible to retain equanimity when I got into the flow of a self
made porno. I even had a great one called ‘The Retreat’. You can imagine.
I think it was on Day Three that the assistant teacher
said that if I wanted to ask the main teacher (a lovely man) for any advice
about my sexual fantasy pains that I could. She said he might have helpful
advice, you never know. At the end of Day Three I thought I may as well ask,
but I also noticed the lust was losing the burning madness of day two.
There is a question time in the hall after the
last session of meditating, men or women can approach. Questions are supposed
to be about technique alone, but I asked what I could do about my ‘relentless
sexual fantasies’ because they were certainly keeping me far from technique.
The teacher guy, Rob, told me what I
already knew. He said ‘return to anapana’ which is the observing of the breath.
Oh. Okay. So I asked in front of heaps
of people, and afterwards the assistant said she actually meant for me to ask
during one of the private lunch time ‘interviews’ with Rob. Oh. I burst into
tears, felt like such a dick. I suddenly imagined that by saying ‘relentless
sexual fantasy’ that I’d now planted the idea in people’s heads. A couple of
girls told me later that it did send them off in that direction.
On Day Four we learned how to use the same observation technique
starting at the fontanel (the soft spot on top of the head) and moving ‘part by
part, piece by piece’ down the body. We were always given instruction via
videos or audio recordings of Goenka; his voice sounded like an Indian version of ‘The
Count’ from Sesame Street.
It was all
observation. On that day I moved out of fantasising and found I was able to
observe sensations more easily, though my mind was still running all over the
place. Sometimes the sensations were very light along the body, and other times
I experienced feelings of pressure, or as if someone had cracked an egg on the
top of my head and it was pouring all over me.
I distinctly felt like a jar
of warm honey had been pushed down on me a few times, all tight, close and yet
comforting. I had a lot of pain in my eyes, as if I was continually straining
to see something. I noticed how my body slotted into place, hips, bones, flesh,
a jigsaw of pieces and spaces. My lower back, knees and hips hurt like fuckery
for the first four days, then the pain would play out in my middle back, my
shoulder blades and neck. Because of my old injuries I was allowed this little
chair that gave me some back support. Without it I don’t know that I could have
managed the physical challenge of the course.
I kept accidentally replaying scenes from
’Game of Thrones’, or the series ‘Girls’. I thought in depth (without meaning
to) about characters from these programmes. Also ended up accidentally thinking of 1980's sitcoms like 'Charles in Charge' and felt quite scathing towards them.
Then I would replay some scenes
from my own life and start analysing. Hang on. I'm meant to be here. I’m here.
Look. Feel. Be. What are the sensations of my body?
Again I would return. By
day four and five the creativity was flowing freely, and spontaneous knowledge
seemed to rise up. I also thought a lot about a situation where a man chooses
between two women that he loves. I kept thinking of this couple I know in which
that had occurred, wondering how she dealt with it.
I thought of The Rooster, and that if he had
to choose between me and someone else then I would instantly take myself out of
the running. Or at least, I imagined I would. I said to myself “that would be
pushing me too far, I’d never feel secure”. So I looked at security. I observed
my thoughts about it – because there is no security anyway is there? What is
romantic love? Does anyone really love anyone else, or do they only love what they think they see?
I wondered why on earth I
imagined that Paul would ever be choosing between me and someone else. Ah, I
thought, I’m just making up sorrows for myself! He loves me. I think he loves me. He’s had a break
down. I’ve done the right thing persisting with him, showing him that love is
not conditional. If he can’t be with me due to his mental instabilities, I will
be fine. I will be EQUANIMOUS!
Equanimity (Latin: æquanimitas having an even mind; aequus even animus mind/soul) is a state of psychological
stability and composure which is undisturbed by experience of or exposure to
emotions, pain, or other phenomena that may cause others to lose the balance of
their mind. The virtue and value of equanimity is extolled and advocated by a
number of major religions and ancient philosophies.
The word ‘equanimous’ is used
repeatedly, a state of remaining in calm balance at the deepest level even when
storms of pain and pleasure rage. I kept thinking ‘Equani Mouse’ and imagined a
little mouse that learns to stay centred despite all sorts of challenges. I saw
it as a children’s book.
It became a blur of
meditation, delicious vegetarian food, and of course looking around and judging
everybody else around me. I am shocked to find out how harsh I am on the other
women. I look at one girl and think “well she’s used to being The Beautiful
One. Ugh.” My judgements are one of the few things that has me in tears during the course. I liked to think of myself as being so kind!
I see another girl and decide that Paul would be really attracted to
her as she has a waifish heroin look about her. By day three I decide it isn’t
heroin, that she probably smokes (but is of course a vegetarian) and does Capoeria
(that dancey martial art thing people are always doing at festivals). She has
long, straight red hair with a thick fringe. I name her Pip. Pippi Longstocking
grows up and goes to festivals, takes drugs, does Vipassana and all the boys
love her.
On the first day of the
course, when we were still allowed to speak, I connected with Wendy and Marit.
When I walked past either of them I would have to look down and smile at the
ground. I felt the same about Pip. I developed an intense and unreasonable dislike of a little
woman who looked like she was constantly in the depths of self pity. Whenever I
saw her I would think ‘there’s that ugly little woman’. I went to the teacher
privately to ask how to deal with finding out that you’re more of an asshole
that you realised, that your self image of kindness is being ripped out at the
roots and you are dismayed and disappointed by it. He said to just keep
observing when these judgements came up. Not to label myself, but to just say
‘ah, there it is, well we all have that’ and to remain …. EQUANIMOUS!
Interestingly, it was
probably day 8 or 9 when I observed an intense wave of pressure so strong that
it forced my head to one side. Oh, okay, so perhaps this is … no wait … don’t
label it … leave it … just look …. Watch … feel. The pressure is hard to
explain, but it was a bit like the mildest taste of the side show ride
‘Gravitron’ (the ride spins so fast that gravity forces you into paralysis). I
didn’t feel afraid. I allowed it to be. It felt like something left my right
ear, some kind of pressure. Oh, interesting. Now the pressure is inside my
head, and it’s sort of pulsing in and out rapidly. How. Do. What. Describe.
Don’t describe. Notice. Notice. Notice. My head is coming back up. I’m sitting
straight. I am very alert. I feel the pressure changing, then a voice, not my
chattering labelling voice, but a calm voice saying ‘that was your self pity’.
Oh. Interesting. Then it felt like my face was disintegrating very slowly and
pleasantly. Tiny molecules of it were floating away. Oh. Interesting. Don’t get
attached to it though. Just observe it. The word ‘interesting’ featured rather
heavily for me.
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| Does my Ego look big in this? |
By day 9 I didn’t find the
Ugly Little Lady quite as ugly anymore. Interesting.
On day 10 we
were allowed to talk. I talked so much that I nearly made
myself vomit. I got to find out how accurate I was in my imaginings about
people. Pretty close at times! It was so great to finally talk with Wendy and
‘Pip’. They had a naughtiness about them that I really loved and then in turn felt
overwhelming.
I was sensitized in a way that I’ve never been before. Everything
felt amazing and also sickening. I went to bed and couldn’t sleep. I felt waves
and waves of sensation running up and down my body so fast that I felt off
balance. I sat up and kept meditating, noticing the way knowledge, shapes,
sensations and desires continually engulfed me and then moved on. Day 10 was one of the most significant for me, although you are told that it's 'hard to meditate' on the day that you can finally speak, I found the opposite to be true.
I lay down and the waves of
sensation kept running like a ring of pressure up and down and within my body.
I kept noticing. Kept noticing. By 2am I wondered how I would get up at 4am
without feeling like death itself. A still voice within said ‘you’ll be fine’.
At 4am, I woke up and my eyes were free of any tiredness or pain. I had energy.
I had been taking less Ritalin as the days had gone by, the structure and focus
of the course was affecting me like another form of medication. Meditation =
medication.
If I took the usual amount of Ritalin it was
starting to make me ‘speedy’ which is what it does to someone who is not ADHD.
I’ve spoken to my doctor about this – it’s quite common for a person to watch
and regulate their use of Ritalin according to what’s going on in their life.
This kind of self regulation is not recommended for those who have serious
mental disorders or hard core depression.
By Sunday the 19th
I didn’t want to leave. Everyone’s experience differs greatly and one of the
reasons there isn’t any speaking is to prevent people from comparing. Marit, a
young German woman, said she couldn’t
get ‘into it’ and used to spend a lot of time looking around. She said she
would look at me and noticed I was always sitting up very straight. Guess she
missed the times I was a slumping slug.
Wendy showed me how to hug
‘from the heart side’ and also gave me the line ‘jam out with your clam out’. I
looked forward to showing The Rooster how to hug from the opposite side to
which we are all accustomed.
I had told Wendy about Paul, and
also about truly letting go of Andrew, The Sexy Ex. I was coming to terms with
the fact that even though the chemistry between Andrew and I is truly amazing,
it didn't mean that we are meant to be together long term. I felt that even though Paul
and I had obstacles to overcome, there was enough heart felt friendship and
romance to start all over again.
I was giving Marit a lift
back to Auckland and had asked mum if we could stay at her place that night. We
did, and I meditated before I went to sleep. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to
Paul properly yet, but I liked looking at the loving messages he’d sent me
before I went to the course. On Monday I took Marit into Brown’s Bay to look at
Op Shops. I found the most amazing red robe with a large dragon emblazoned on
the back. Paul loves dragons and I thought well, we’re not back together yet,
and I don’t know what’s happening … but god he’d look good in this … sort of
like a regal drug dealer or wizard.
I laughingly told the ladies
behind the counter that I was buying it for my ex boyfriend. One of them misheard
me and said “what? You’re buying it for your ex boyfriends’ girlfriend?”. I
cracked up and responded “ha, now that really would be generous wouldn’t it?!”
When I got back to Mum’s I
tried it on and then imagined Paul wearing it. I felt really happy. We spoke
that day and I told him about the course.
I felt that we were working steadily towards each other again. On
Tuesday we finally had a ‘serious talk’, the one where I get to find out how
sorry he is for fucking around for so long, the one where he tells me how much
he loves me. This is where equanimity would have come in handy.
He speaks slowly and with a
lot of detail, something I have always liked. In this instance, it was not
quite so pleasant. He tells me how his ex-girlfriend, (the 52 year old German
with a heart problem) had come and visited him while I was away on the course.
“She wants me back”.
Well, I said,
"you’re not
attracted to her and you don’t love her. That’s what you told me."
This is when
the cold defensiveness creeps into his voice. “I always told you I still cared
for her”. Well yes, but he always insisted that there was no attraction left.
Then he dragged it out, saying how magical it is between us, with double
rainbows over the sea. He tells me how he is still attracted to me and still
wants to look up my dress. I calmly ask him if he wants to look up Karin’s
dress. “Yes,” he says “yes I do”.
I am frozen and hot with the
horror of it. The whole time he used to be so incredibly insistent that I was
‘over’ Andrew was really about him not being over German Mother. The pain of it
is intense, especially with my extreme sensitivity after doing Vipassana. I
feel my whole being writhe with agony.
He is choosing between us and
I think for a moment he must be choosing me. Then I realise he’s dragging it
out too long.
He says that it came down to
where he wanted to go sexually. He paused. Let it sink in. “I want to be with
Karin. I have to follow my heart”.
The last time I looked, the
heart was located above the belt. Pity I didn’t think of that line in the
moment, but I was so hurt that I could barely speak. I could also feel rage
burning in me, wanting to question, to argue.
My equanimity was fucked.
Rage, sorrow and disbelief coursed through me. I texted him snottily, saying he
wasn’t following his heart. He said he was.
Sure.
Yes I’m sure.
Yeah, and you were sure about
me not so long ago.
I sat down after we talked
and sobbed before making myself meditate for about 15 minutes. It was all I had
time for as had to go and pick up the child I sometimes baby sit after school. I
cried all the way there, and as I drove a storm was moving in. I picked up Z
and as we drove towards Orakei a massive double rainbow appeared.
By the time we got out of the car there was
only one rainbow and a massive front was moving across the water, picking up
and becoming a tornado. I told Z I was a bit sad and explained why. I joked
that perhaps the tornado was heading to Waiheke and might rip the roof off his
house. Z laughed and said ‘yeah, and he might be on the toilet at the time!’.
Then Z’s step grandfather
said ‘yeah, and the pipes explode and pooh goes everywhere’. “Yes,” I added,
“and no one gets hurt, but he’s covered in his own pooh’. We all cracked up, so
immature.
I know I’ve been protected
from being with a selfish man, a man free of heroin but who is still, in
effect, a User. He mainlined my love and then when he overdosed … blamed me.
So. What does that say about me and my self worth? If he’s a User, then where
am I using? Did I also just get addicted to an image? Probably.
There was nothing to do but
keep on meditating. I vasciallte between tears, anger and deep grief. I get
lost in it and then remember to ‘just observe it.’
In retrospect I can now see
that he might have been longing for German Mother for awhile. I always knew
that he wanted a mother figure, something that I did find a bit challenging
during the relationship.
G Mother also fulfilled other aspects that
play into the games of pain and longing: she had not been honest with him at
the start of their relationship, and it was she who left him. He had said he
wasn’t sure he deserved my love … yet he’s decided that he deserves the love of German Mother. So the one
who hurts him is the one he wants?
Since Tuesday I have
suffered. I wondered when the spark was re-ignited. I imagine it was when he
had a catch up with her a couple of months ago and she got to tell him how
angry she had been with him. Ooh anger. That can turn into passion.
On the pain rampages, showing
me her photo in my mind’s eye, one I’d seen on Facebook, another just of her
plump torso in some kind of dress up outfit that I accidentally saw on Paul’s
computer. She looks nice. Evidently she is nice. Really, really nice. Knowing she's nice doesn't help.
When I told mum he was going
back to the rejecting mother figure, she said “Does she have big breasts?”
“Yes”
“Does she like to cook?”
“Yes. She bakes. She’s a
really good baker.”
Mum cracked up laughing and
so did I. She's also really good at cleaning and gardening. Hell. I'd take her back!
Yesterday I tortured myself imaginging
them making love, her matronly body heaving beneath him, his face desperate
like a dying bird. Then I wonder if she lost weight and that’s why Paul’s dick
twitched so hard. Yeah. Probably. Hang on. I’m making shit up and it’s hurting
me. I wonder about her Buddhism. Do no harm. I imagined her ensuring
that she got to his cock before I did, knowing how closely it resounded with
the beating of his heart. Anger flares up. Notice it. How it hurts the stomach.
How it sends the heart racing. Do no harm. Do no harm. Do no harm.
If Paul is following his heart then only good can come of this.
If not, then he will get his own wake up calls very quickly.
I keep meditating morning and
night. The emotional pain is so great that physical pain also comes up. I go to
the tarot (Tarot of The Spirit) and ask for a card to clarify what has just
happened. The card that shows me what’s just happened blows my mind. Here is a
brief summary:
8 of Water; Still Waters
You are in a state of withdrawal; retreat is necessary
and good at this time; through withdrawing , all things shall become clear; you
will be protected as you withdraw, you will not lose anything important; take a
break and remember, “still waters run deep”.
The longer explanation talks
about ‘charging your Self and renewing your resources within a space of
protection. At the Eight, you begin to understand the magical capacity of your
mind. …. Stop everything and allow your Self the luxury of utter stillness.’
Even with this amazing card
coming up, my mind still wants to go back to the stories of sorrow. My ego
longs to mulch over the rejection, to roll around in pain like a dog joyfully rolling in the
carcass of a rotting sheep.
Then my ‘higher self’ or ‘the watcher’ gets a look
in, and I’m allowing myself to just observe it all without falling into the
abyss. When I find myself groaning ‘but why did he say he loved me?’ I then
remember that when it comes down to it, few of us truly Love anyone. We are a
mess of sensation seeking missiles most of the time, always see-sawing between
craving and numbness. Dulling things down in order not to feel, or ramping it
up in order to get high in one way or another. To observe is to get mastery
over this mind. To observe is to demystify pain and pleasure.
Today I woke up in emotional and
physical pain. I didn’t want to meditate, so I lay in bed feeling utterly
miserable, totally sorry for myself. I got sick of the misery and had to
meditate after all. I was afraid of having to sit with all that rejection
again. Then lo and behold, I sat, and it is never quite what one expects. The
pain seemed to vanish as I lasered in on it. That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll have
more pain later. Pleasure and a sense of well being rose up. That’s okay, I’m
sure that will also dissolve.
Equanimous. Equanimous. Equanimous.
Yes. I can wish kindness for
The Rooster and German Mother. Well okay, perhaps not just yet. It’s less than
four days since he slowly delivered his news.
I felt free of the bitching and self pitying voice that nagged me. I felt that I was claiming the Dragon for myself and the wound was now healing. I had been treated unkindly by The Rooster at the end of January, but I kept my faith in 'Love' alive. I kept on believing he would wake up, never suspecting that he would distract himself and awaken in the arms of German Mother.
