Day 3. I
knew everything; it was time to go home.
Day 4. My eating slackened. I became aware of my mind-body disconnect.
Day 5. My inner child came out and it was
fun. 5pm is tea-time and we were allowed fruit only with tea and coffee. A sign by the trays of oranges, apples and bananas asked that we limit ourselves to two pieces a day. Inner child said, "F*** that" and I took a 3rd banana. I defied anyone to stop me and was disappointed no-one did. I saw their non-intervention as a sign they didn't care and I took the rejection personally.
On day 6. I
emerged from the meditation hall groggy with fatigue and my eyes almost closed. I felt a wetness under my feet and noticed the flagstones of the
school yard were damp like someone had spilled their water bottle. My
eyes scanned the whole yard. It was all wet. I
looked up and felt the faintest hint of rain on my face. The first rain
in eleven weeks. I clapped my hands with joy. The elderly lady who meditated sitting on a chair
whirled around and smiled at me. The girl
with the feather earring behind me laughed.
The joy of seeing the old and the familiar. I did the only thing open to me I clapped my
hands like a child. The teacher who was
a few feet ahead of us, but we had not noticed immediately put her finger to
her mouth and urged us with her eyes to be silent. We suppressed our giggles
like naughty school girls and scurried away.
Day 7. The lady who slept just inside our dormitory door
left. I guessed she was having a bad
time because she did not attend any of the meditations that day and skipped
breakfast. I saw her at lunch time, and she ate so ravenously, I assumed she's
back on track. But at 5pm, her bed was stripped and her wardrobe
empty. I felt robbed. I knew she was unhappy, but I could not ask
her. It’s part of the rules that we must
not speak nor make eye contact with another: we must respect other people’s
wish to not be distracted. Still, had we
been allowed to talk to her we might have persuaded her to stick it out.
Day 8. I
felt an incredible peace settle around my shoulders. It was a relief not to
have to talk, not to have to entertain anyone and just be left alone. I realised the burden it is to be always on
show, to feel compelled to talk at every opportunity.
Day 9. I had a long shower.
Day 10. After
breakfast and mid-morning meditation we were finally allowed given permission
to speak to give us time to adjust before heading out into the real world again.
We didn't know what to do with ourselves. The sign outside the door said
we could speak but no physical contact. I turned to the girl next to me
and gently prodded her in the arm with my finger. She laughed. We
hurried into the lounge room and we talked for Ireland. We introduced
ourselves, told each other the impressions we had formed of each other.
It felt so good to
be able to talk and communicate and it felt like we were among old friends. The
kind of friendships you form in Irish college; deep and intense, like you shared
a journey together. I felt everyone there was my friend and they seemed
to feel the same way. One of the four other women in my dormitory, Mary from Limerick said to me, “Remember you handed out the ear plugs the first night
because of your snoring? Yeah, well,
snoring is not your problem. You talk in
your sleep. Every night you’re having a
party. You’re laughing and talking and
every night, I’d go, ‘Ah here, she goes again.’”
I was astonished but
quickly recovered, “Well, that’s my cue to tell you a joke.” I then told them
the filthiest joke I knew. It got such a
great reaction that I decided that one was enough rather than my usual instinct
of rushing in with twenty more. I
usually hog all the attention, but I was happy to sit back and enjoy what my
new friends had to say. This was a first for me.
Spiritually I am at ant level. However,
I take comfort from Bryson’s (1999) quote that being human is a process and at
this stage of my journey, the insights I gained, and awareness of my demons is
a huge step forwards to understanding myself.
It is a relief to realise how shallow my mind works. The image that came to mind as I grew bored
with the hysterical drama that usually plays out in my head is that of
withered, dried out leaves rattling across an empty playground.
The experience is sufficiently strong enough for me to believe that the benefits of meditation real. I did not have the same experiences as the others but then I am at a different stage to them. What I experienced was enough for me, for now. The insights I gained as to how my mind works has changed me. It has improved my Coaching practice in that I understand the importance of deep listening and to what is not being said. I am mindful of what I am saying and what I am bringing to the conversation.
The experience is sufficiently strong enough for me to believe that the benefits of meditation real. I did not have the same experiences as the others but then I am at a different stage to them. What I experienced was enough for me, for now. The insights I gained as to how my mind works has changed me. It has improved my Coaching practice in that I understand the importance of deep listening and to what is not being said. I am mindful of what I am saying and what I am bringing to the conversation.
Could I have obtained all this without meditation? I don’t think so. I understand intellectually that emotional
intelligence is a good thing but until you experience the absence of emotional
intelligence you don’t fully understand.
At the outset of any relationship whether Coaching or otherwise, presence
is more important than skill. You cannot
connect or relate to someone unless you have been there yourself. The tools of Spirituality
are the energy behind the effective Coaching relationship. Since presence is
the opposite of absence, if you are not present you don’t make a connection.
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