A Good Day

I had looked forward to Saturday for weeks:  my first meditation class!   With Sharon Salzberg!  To prepare, I talked with other meditators and the studio to check on accomodations for me (could I stand in the back?  were there places to lie down?  do they have breaks?).  I practiced getting up and down off the floor, tried to extend my sitting time, read Sharon Salzberg's Real Happiness, even practiced meditating without falling asleep (harder than you think since I meditate lying down on my side!).   I got a yoga mat, put on my comfortable black pants, packed my lunch of apple and granola bar.

And then Saturday was here!  Mama and the kids dropped me off at the studio in Hartford and then they headed to lunch at the Rainforest Cafe and then to the Connecticut Science Center.  I was immediately in an environment quite alien to me (not "ancient astronaut alien," but still  unfamiliar).  First, I took off my shoes right at the front door and walked around the whole place in my very white socks, just like everyone else--even the bathroom!  I was surprised that my socks were still quite white at the end of the day.  I wandered the boutique, filled with stylish yoga clothes and accessories, which were modeled by many of the other class participants. Tight, stretchy black pants, earthy-colored fitted shirts, rolled-up mats of various kinds carried in special bags with the latest Gaiam pattern, green smoothies and tea drinks in various bottles, Mother Goddess and Chakra jewlery.  I felt a little intimidated and out of place because it was all so unfamiliar to me. 

I quickly found a good spot in the large studio, against the back wall where I could spread out my yoga mat and positioned a chair so I can get up and down.  There were about 100 other people, mostly women, mostly white, mostly older than me, but still some men, people of color, and younger people.  I got to chatting with a woman who is studying to be a yoga teacher and was attending this class as part of her training.  We continued to chat at each break.

In walked Sharon Salzberg, renowned Buddhist meditaiton teacher, co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society in Barre, MA, and author of several books. She wasn't in robes (I don't believe she holds a dharma lineage, though she has studied in Burma and India), nor was she exceptionally earthy (no beads or shawls or such).  What preconceptions I had!   I was reminded that there is the Buddha inside everyone  Because she looked like she could be my neighbor.  She has a very soothing voice, neither high nor low, and not breathy like NPR presenters, and with enough character to keep you focused.  I had been listening to her guided meditations on CD and her voice was exactly like that in person.  

In fact, she told us several stories, including one about her voice.  People often tell her that they like her voice and she likes that.  But she recognizes the Eight Vicissitudes of Buddhism (pain/pleasure; gain/loss; praise/blame; fame/disrepute) and knew that with fame came disrepute.  She was told by the teachers of a class that she was to visit that the members of the class had said her voice was annoying; the teachers couldn't bring themselves to announce her upcoming visit!  "Good voice, bad voice, one voice," she laughed.

There were lots of stories and lessons:

• discussion the rural origins of Buddhism and the use of farming metaphors ("cultivating the ground")
• the oral origins of Buddhism and the use of lists for memory (a list of lists at the bottom here)
• definition ("what you place your heart upon") and types of faith (bright, verified, and abiding)
• the connectedness of concentration, mindfulness, and lovingkindness
• how meditation does not require beliefs, is portable, and . . . one other thing I just can't recall!
• Buddha's advice for sleepiness during meditation, including open your eyes, tug your earlobes, and take a nap!
• the wise cabby who got stuck in traffic taking her to a Thich Nhat Hanh lecture, for which she apologized to him.  He said, "You did not cause the traffic.  Neither did I.  It just is."  "Why did I need Thich Nhat Hanh?!" she wondered.  Though she told us that someone else ponders, when stuck in traffic, "I am the traffic."
• proliferation as the unencumbered multiplication of thoughts or add-ons
• the meaning of mindfulness, which is paying attention to current circumstances and our reactions so that we do not act out of conditioned habitual responses, or "small moments many times" and "looking with quiet eyes."  
• beginning meditators and mindfulness, who asked if, when they hear the fire alarm, do they just note it and continue meditating instead of having aversion and acting in response?  She said, "I'd get up."  Apparently, when she began meditating 40 years ago in India, it wasn't fire alarms but elephants walking towards you on the road!   

Most of this can be found in her books and my short list does not in any way do justice to her explanations or delivery; it only captures the breadth of what she touched upon.

In between it all, we had breaks and lunch.  I purchased some tidbits in the cafe--crackers, coconut water, oat and fruit protein bar--and ate them with my apple; later, I got a coconut-almond-rice milk shake by Amazake.  I browsed in the shop, picking up a new book, a new bolster, and a bracelet.   The bolster I had tested during meditation, which I spent on the floor either on my side or on my back (I stood for her discussions and Q&A, pacing some on my mat, but without my shoes, on the hard floor, I didn't last that long; the bolster supported my bent knees--other people sat on them, or put their legs on the chairs, or lay flat, or knelt on cushions, almost as many postures as people.)  I even spoke to Sharon during the first break, thanking her for offering the teachings.  

Most powerful were the five sittings we did, each about 20 minutes.  She guided us through the first one, just as on the CD and we did three more on our own.  The last one was metta, or lovingkindness, meditation, again guided by her, like on the CD.  I'm not even sure I can put my experiences into words, only that it was some of the most centering, energizing, inspiring meditation I've done.  Sure, my mind wandered from my breath and the phrases frequently--so much stimulation in the day (and there were 100 other people coughing, shifting, etc)--but I brought it back each time.  "That is the practice," she repeated, "the moment of starting over is the practice."  I got a lot of practice!  More importantly, I've meditated each day since then, so the class revitalized my practice.  "If you described your Saturday--I watched my breath and started over  when I got distracted--that's a good day," she said.

It was, both physically and spiritually.  And I can't wait to try something like it again.