BuenQamino Mind

Musings about mental well being

california, vipassana meditation Christina P. Kantzavelos california, vipassana meditation Christina P. Kantzavelos

Vipassana Day 9: How to Decline Gifts (a 12-day Journal of my Vipassana Silent Meditation Retreat Experience)

I woke up around 5:30 AM from a very strange dream. I somehow escaped for the night with my partner, and all of the sudden we were making out in our apartment, but then it wasn’t our apartment. I explained that we shouldn’t be doing this, because it’s one of the rules. As I am trying to explain, he transformed into a previous partner, who wasn’t as compassionate or understanding.  I began freaking out because I was at least two hours from the course, and I would need to get back before anyone sees me (so, like 2 AM). Meanwhile, there is a cat in the apartment, who isn’t Banana, and who keeps hissing and posturing at me. I grab a nearby violin bow and point at it to exert myself as alpha, and end up poking it. It stops moving and when I take a look, I realize that I have badly punctured the poor creature, and it’s really hurt. I freak out even more, and think what kind of monster I am. I feel like complete crap and wake up. Luckily this was followed by a BM (toxins, am I right?).

Read More
california, vipassana meditation Christina P. Kantzavelos california, vipassana meditation Christina P. Kantzavelos

Vipassana Day 6: Objectivity (a 12-day Journal of my Vipassana Silent Meditation Retreat Experience)

I yet again woke up at 2 AM. I suppose my body doesn’t need as much sleep, since I am sitting all day. I force myself back to sleep and awoke with everyone else at 4 AM. My appetite is getting worse and worse. I barely had more than a few bites of my cereal. Note to self. I do not like rice milk. I figured I would make up for the missed calories at lunch. I make a few rounds at the trail today. I notice one of my hallmates wearing a Pilgrimage of the Heart shirt, and realize, holy shit, I’ve taken her class before. Small world.  I only brought sandals with me (grrrreat idea), and there were no shoes in my size to borrow from the communal closet. So I’m just being salty, because I can only go so fast before the sand buries my feet underneath like quicksand. Forced mindful walking, I guess. The sunrise never gets old. There is a woman here who looks super unhappy, and I sometimes see her talking to herself. I know we aren’t supposed to smile at each other, but I tried when we both went for the sunflower seeds at the same time, and she wasn’t having it.

Read More