I'm running out the imposing gates of the meditation centre, hair streaming behind me, hastily packed luggage on back. . . and there's a rickshaw conveniently waiting outside the door. Saving me a potentially *long* dusty walk to civilisation.
This is the happy ending to a tragic tale that started three days ago now.
Day 1: I left Varanasi having had no sleep, and tried to catch the 5am train to Gaya. This didn't actually leave until 9am, which meant I had to try and catch up on sleep on Platform 9, along with the hundred or so other vagrants, bangle-sellers, beggars, and the odd fellow meditator.
I arrived at the meditation centre hot, hungry, tired and slightly ill. I had a bit of a cold, but I thought I'd be fine.
Day 2: I develop diarrhoea. Nothing particularly unusual in India. Again, I think I'll be fine.
Day 3: I start to appreciate how rigorous it is to do sitting meditation for 10 hours a day. My whole body is one big scream. I should be concentrating on my breath, but I can only think about my stomach. Stomach cramp, breath, stomach cramp, breath. I feel like I'm fighting my way through the day. I keep on repeating to myself, I can survive.
Bing! Like a lightbulb, I suddenly realise that I don't want to. Why am I putting myself through this unneccesary pain? I can leave! Being fast-moving the person of action that I am, I go to my female supervisor person, and tell her I'm leaving. It took me another 6 hours to actually get out of there.
In that time I experienced the most intense manipulation to stay. The 'teacher' spent an hour cajoling, blaming, guilt-tripping, appealing to my finer feeling (obviously a lost cause, anyone could have told him that), not to mention flat-out telling me I couldn't leave.
Some of the finer points:
*telling me that I would make _him_ ill if I left, and he wouldn't be able to continue taking the course.
*that it was my 'dark side' convincing me to leave, and I shouldn't give in to it.
*that I was doing harm not only to myself, but to my fellow meditators.
*that he had never seen a foreigner leave before. Indians yes, but that foreigners are usually determined to finish what they start.
Eventually I agreed to stay for one more day. As soon as I had left his presence I was angry with myself for giving in to the pressure (not to mention crying!). Later, I packed again, and prepared to leave. I went to ask the manager if I could get my money belt and valuables out of my locker. He refused. By this stage, I was starting to feel trapped.
Eventually, my supervisor came out of meditation again, and came with me to collect my possessions. I left without seeing the teacher again.
The whole experience left me feeling incredibly angry and upset. I booked into a nice hotel with a telly, so that I can eat room service in bed and recover.
I was feeling pretty lonely and desperately in need of a chat (all that silence), so I was thrilled to bump into a fellow escapee in town today. Thank God. It's nice to have someone else to validate your experiences.
I don't want to condemn the vipassana practice (I know they're not a mind-control cult! I just liked the title). I know the practice has worked for a lot of people, and it was highly recommended to me.
However, I really believe that it was ethically wrong to put me under that amount of pressure to stay, especially as I was ill and therefore fairly vulnerable. I have never been so glad to leave anywhere in my life.
Posted by eithne at March 19, 2004 12:47 PM | TrackBack