In My Own Shoes

In the beginning I thought the silence might kill me. 10 days with no words, smiles or gestures. But my reaction was strange...

I LOVED it.

Secluded on the girls side, there was no need for whitty banter, random compliments or chit chat of any sort. Not even, "excuse me" or "thank you" or "hey, those are great shoes". Strange how quickly my taste for these well-meaning fillers desolved. And for the first time I started to really see just how much of what I do, who I have become, is my response to conflict.

When I was younger I made a lot of enemies. This was sometimes achieved just by walking into a room. And in the combinative state of my young mind and my tortured social experience I made a subconscious pact with myself. I decided to be very friendly. Very versatile. Very complimentary and cool. And as I grew, this reflexive personality became so intertwined with my own that no one, not even me, could tell the difference between who I am and who I had become to stay safe.

But the me born of conflict is not the me that I seek and I saw in this silence an opportunity. To separate fact from fiction. To distinguish my defenses from my desires. To meet myself authentically. To be in my own skin.

The day before the silence was lifted I was nervous. I wasn't sure how I would be. Perhaps I would come out the other side a rude person. A shy person. An aloof person. Maybe with the crap of my past shelled off I wouldn't have anything particularly nice to say.

But then it happened.

Coming out of that silence was like being re-born. Dramatic but true. I felt like a little child. I could sing and dance and shout and laugh. But most of all I could look people in the eyes and connect. Just a little isolated time seeing me freed me to really see others. Sincerely. Authentically. Perhaps for the first time. And it was nice to know what I'm choosing. Who I am. And why I want to speak to you.

Its because you matter. Its because Im interested. Its because its true.

So, if I say I love your shoes now I know I mean it. Its because I noticed and I wanted to tell you. But most of all its because I have spent some time learning to love my own.

Read more...

The Stories in My Head

I arrived a bit late to the retreat. My train had broken down making it a 6 connection journey instead of 5. I quickly filled out my registration form and carried my bag to my assigned room.

My room-mates things were already on her side of our tiny room. I immediately noticed she had brought 3 pairs of shoes: small silver ballet-like slip ons, calf high sturdy outdoor boots and some funny little elf like green felt slippers. There were a few bottles of herbs strewn about the side table. In my mind I started to decide who she was.

Soon after dinner the "vow" of silence was given. No speaking. No gestures. No eye contact. We spent about an hour in meditation and were then instructed to "take rest" in our rooms as that 4am wake up gong would come early. Upon returning to the room I was finally in the same space with her. Slender frame, porcelain skin, dark short hair. By her countenance I guessed she couldn't be more than 24. Past the point of introductions, our 10 days of cohabitation began without a word.

And they continued without words. I soon found that the 4am bell came a bit too early for me so I often slept until the 6:30 breakfast bell. But everyday, she would get up, get dressed and go to the hall. I soon realized that while I favoured naps in my free time, she favoured nature walks. There were countless occasions of walking in while she was walking out or vice versa. A few times while we were supposed to be meditating in our rooms or in the hall I fell asleep (all that silence makes me drowsy!) If she would walk in or heaven forbid notice me nod off while she was meditating in the space beside me, I felt incredibly guilty.

By day 5, I decided she hated me. Not the most rational conclusion, but at this point I had been stuck in my own head for over 100 hours. No outside input or reassurance. I felt certain that she was surely a practised "hippy chick", accustomed to mediation and silence and nature and all. And my guilt over not working harder had manifested itself as undeniable evidence that she was better at this than me and that she probably knew it.

I did this repeatedly. On the women's side of camp there were 60+ ladies of all shapes, sizes and ages. Not being able to make eye contact, I got to know their shoes very well. After a while I started to give them names. There was "cool pants girl", "wakey hair lady", "bathrobe chick". All the while watching them, not aware of the personalities I was assigning them based on their countenance and fashion choices.

On day 9 at mid-day, the vow of silence in Vipassana is lifted. This gives everyone the opportunity to meet each other, share their experience and transition back into the normal speaking world. I was so pleasantly surprised at how wrong I was in so many of my assumptions. Once looking into eyes and sharing stories, these shells of people came to life in a way I struggle to put words to. It was almost like I had been living in a coloring book world and sharing had brought instant vibrant crayon color to a black and white page of existence.

But the best surprise of all was her. Extending her hand she introduced herself as Leah. Leah and Shaleah sharing a room without a word. Lights out that night was brimming with slumber party excitement. There was so much enthusiasm in the sharing. I told her that I thought she hated me because I was lazy. She said she was sure I hated her because I thought she was a goody goody for getting up so early. And I started to realize how many things we make up in our heads and live by as though they are facts. In this case it may seem absurd, conclusions with no words, but I started to realize, I do it all the time.

And then she shared something that I will keep forever. It is my prayer that it has somehow galvanized this lesson into my open heart. Even as I type it the tears start to come as I realize its beauty. She told me that about half way through the course, every night before we would go to bed she would make a wish that I would sleep well...

...and all my judgements, all my misconceptions, all the destructiveness of the best efforts of my mind to figure, to anticpate, to control, melted away. And I was left with two very distinct things: the stories in my head and the truth, which is love.

Read more...

Questions and Answers

My life isnt perfect. On the contrary, its totally up in the air which often brings complicated feelings. But its funny what people think when you are far away.

I was chatting with a friend from LA the other day. She asked how I was and I told her I was "searching". She seemed a bit disillusioned: "But I thought Berlin was the answer for you?!"

Nope.
Its more like the question.
Or maybe I'm the question and it just feels like a good place to ask...

So Im leaving tomorrow for a 10 day silent retreat.
Yep, thats what you read.
10 days. No talking. No writing. No phone or internet. No communication with anyone... but me.
Honestly, I dont think I like myself enough to enjoy that much of my own company. But I want to. And my goals for this crazy thing? To learn something new and to surprise myself somehow. All the other ideas I have about it, Im trying to release.

Lets see how it goes...

Read more...