by Bhante Sumano
Monastics often take time for silent retreat at some point during the year, to quiet the body and mind and to delve into deep contemplation. Theravādins in Southeast Asia might use the vassa, or rainy period, for some seclusion; Zen practitioners often undertake a spring ango; and the Plum Village community has just wrapped up their winter retreat.
Bhante Tāṇakāro and I will both enter our own month of silence, though in almost opposite ways.
Bhante Tāṇa will go on a solo retreat out of a cabin in the woods, walking about an hour or more into town for alms food, whereas I will be participating in a large silent retreat at a nearby meditation center (where meals will be provided).
Don’t worry—I’m the first to point out that his will be the more austere practice! A part of me is actually a little envious, but at the moment I feel more drawn to experiencing the larger retreat. While I do hope to one day have the hut-retreat experience, my body says now is not the time.
Regardless, I know that one thing we both will be facing on this retreat is our minds. We’ll be meditating essentially all day, and in that sort of silence and stillness, much is bound to surface. I’m a little nervous, to be honest! I’ve done long silent retreats like this before, but it’s like traveling by plane—even though I know what flying feels like, I still get butterflies before a flight.
For me, it will mean putting down my projects and my engagements with the world, which has historically been the hardest thing for me to let go. But I am looking forward to settling in and giving all my time and attention to just being for a little while.
In the Shamanic Bones of Zen, Zenju Earthlyn Manuel recommends dialing back the activities of the mind before retreat, turning away from the things that usually stir the mind (electronics, caffeine, etc.).
In that vein, Bhante Tāṇa and I will be spending a few days camping out in the woods together, just meditating and sitting under the stars, gearing up for a month of silence that will (hopefully) be quite sweet indeed.
Going into the retreat, I’m planning to to keep this Tibetan/Vajrayāna dedication to the Medicine Buddha in mind (A friend shared it with us here in San Francisco, and it’s really resonated):
By the virtues received from attempting this practice, may all living beings who see, hear, touch or remember me—even those who say my name—at that moment be released from their miseries and experience happiness forever.