Sitting Zen

After our hero has read many books, gone through workshops of catharsis and trance, practiced Tai-chi and has done ten days of guided Vipassana, our friend then decides to set out for a long solo retreat in the great forest.

The purpose of this journey is to sit Zen in nature. To be far from the daily noise that is a part of city life. The only things that go on the trip are a pair of good walking shoes, a backpack, a small tent, water, food, mosquito repellant, compass, map and a meditation cushion.

Five days in which he (or she, of course) will be as alone as possible. There will be no guidance, no support group, not even a bell to announce the end of the practice period. In this way, amongst the trees, under the stars and in the wind, our hero will be able to, or at least hopes to find his "inner" self and meet the "host" of his mind.

By the third evening it is already much easier to start the fire. Dinner is quickly prepared. The tent stands perfectly straight, everything is very neat inside. The flashlight is ready on the sleeping bag. It is only eight o’clock in the evening and today there are no excuses left to postpone the meditation.

After much consideration, our friend decides about the exact place to sit. He clears all the stones away from the sitting area. He puts the small mat on the ground, inflates the sitting cushion, rubs an aggressive mosquito repellant all over his body, drinks water and urinates. He takes off his shoes, checks whether the soles have worn out, stretches, gets up to fetch the flashlight, comes back, shakes the dirt off his socks, then carefully sits down on the cushion. He pulls his heels inwards, lowers his knees onto the ground, and at last he is ready to begin the meditation. He takes few deep breaths and tries to relax.

"What if a tiger comes?"
"What?"
"What if a tiger comes?"
"There are no tigers in this forest. Be quite."
"But maybe there are bears."
"Don’t worry, all the food is in plastic bags, and besides, bears don’t harm people who sit quietly and are still. Be quiet, let me concentrate."
"But there are poisonous spiders that can crawl into shoes. Did you remember to cover your shoes? They can also get into the sleeping bag, you know. Spiders do not care whether you are meditating or not. If you don’t move perhaps they will think that there is no one around. It will take days for anybody to find us."
"I have zipped the tent closed and my shoes are right here in front of me. Stop it will you."
"And what if you fall asleep?"
"This is Zen. Falling asleep is out of the question."
"Anything could happen. Do not forget we have had a long day. If you fall asleep, a snake might come too."
"I will not fall asleep and I will listen to all the sounds and if something comes I will hear it, if only you would keep quiet and stop disturbing me."
"All right, I’ll keep quiet. You are right. I know, you are supposed to rest in the gap between your thoughts. Meditation is very important. This is why we are here.
Too bad the mobile phone is out of range here. We could have taken a satellite phone."
"Well there is no phone here, there is no need to worry and there is nothing to regret, so stop bothering me. Shut up and let me connect with the universe."
"O.K. I will not say anything. Anyway there is not much time left for the meditation and your legs are already aching."
"What do you mean not much time left? We have the whole evening and the whole night if I choose."
"Yes, but soon your legs will become numb and if there is an emergency we will not be able to stand up."
"Enough. I can’t go on like this. Be quiet."

"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Has it started yet?"
"What?"
"The meditation, has it started yet? Do you feel anything special?"
"No, so far nothing is happening."
"And if nothing happens, will you be disappointed?"
"Maybe a little. I have invested much effort in coming here and this is not something I can do every month."
"We could have invited someone to come with us; it would have been nice to be together out here in the woods. At least we would not return disappointed."
"If you don’t shut up, I will make you repeat a mantra."
"No, no, not a mantra. I hate that. It limits my freedom to think."
"Then shut up. You are disturbing my focus."
"Aren’t you supposed to do nothing in Zen meditation?"
"Yes, only listen, breath and open up…"
"Then why can’t you do that?"
"Because of you, idiot."
"I heard that."
"So now you feel offended?"
"Not offended, but if you want me to keep quiet then I will keep quiet. Here, I am quiet. Are you happy now?"

The next day, as he is washing the dishes by the river, not thinking of anything in particular, he stops for a few moments. There is a silence.

Then suddenly the forest wakes up.

Hundreds of crickets are talking to each other, all in different voices. The wind is gently swaying through the branches and an owl calls from a distance. The earth comes alive and all of the beauty, and music of the forest come to him. A hum fills the air with a throbbing shiver. It is like a subtle electric current that surrounds and slowly infuses the body. He feels as if the forest and himself are on a different frequency. Now, in some very pleasant way, he has melted into the forest and they have both became one. Both echoing the same tune, the same vibration of life.

His heart is filled with love like he has not felt for a very long time. Tears of happiness roll down his cheeks. A kind of happiness that is difficult to describe in words. Like the happiness of a single drop of water that has been alone for a very long time, and has suddenly found the ocean.