I stand corrected. The big spider that was in the corner of my room is actually two medium-sized spiders entangled together. On the first day, I was too afraid to get close enough to even look at them. That’s the funny thing about fear. It keeps you at such a distance that you’re not able to truly see the thing itself that you fear. Plus, who am I as a human to fear these tiny insects? Yet when I watch them and their little legs move, the chills still run up and down my spine.

One thought that keeps returning to me is that one must be super serious and intentional to come to such a place.

What I mean by that is one must want to be here.

Out of respect and civility, one cannot force themselves through this experience.

It feels as though it would be disrespectful for someone to show up without the intention to truly get something out of it. I’m not sure I’m quite finding the right words to express what I mean.

What I do know is that I have the utmost respect for everybody here and what they’re doing.

And I’m surprised to find myself thinking that I too could do this, day in and day out, greeting newcomers, being unbothered by the outside world and the materialism that consumes us. It would be such a simple life, but so long as I had people to love and a community around me, I’m not sure the simple life would be any worse than the chaos that is the ordinary life people lead out in the real world.

In this life, I would have plenty of time to meditate, to read, to write, to make art. I long to make an impact, and this would certainly fulfill that longing. Occasionally, I would go out into the real world. Perhaps into nature, or back to see my family, where I would be at peace with myself. They may not understand, but they would be happy for me.

—

During my meditations, I found my mind slipping on numerous occasions, thinking about all sorts of unimportant topics. Topics that would only arise in a mind that hasn’t been able to find rest or hasn’t been able to sort through them quite yet. But they tell me this is normal. Our meditation teacher said someone once told them that if they catch their thoughts slipping, that means they succeeded.

Those thoughts were distressing as they came through. Yet in my meditations, I found that the anger or shame that once accompanied those very same thoughts was not present, and therefore I was able to objectively observe them and calmly tell myself that they were of no real consequence.

Today, another helpful piece of advice from the same teacher was to be the sky. And if we were something as great and vast as the sky, no insects or birds, even hawks or eagles, could ever bother the sky. I chose to take it one step further and assume that not even a storm or hurricane or tornado could bother the sky.

I wonder if it will work the next time an intrusive thought enters my mind if I tell it, “I am the sky.”

—

I skipped the interfaith contemplations session and went off grounds today.

So apparently, while this place is an institution, acres and acres of the land around the ashram were bought by who I’m calling “free” people, and they built loads of houses there so that they could form a community of meditators, yogis, and like-minded people.

That community was hosting a market and live music, which apparently they do every last Friday of the month, so of course I had to go! When I got there, I slowly walked through the woods. The children were playing in small pools and on blow-up slides. I observed some interesting odors that I found very smelly and walked as far away from them as I could, sitting on a tree stump and watching the band. When I looked around, the kind people sent good vibrations and smiles in my direction.

I typed all of this up to send to a friend, and I realized it was getting a bit long, but more importantly, I knew she would care enough to read it. And this is exactly what I’m doing for the people who do end up reading this. I’m writing to my friends, my fellow comrades, going through this journey with me. Whether just as a companion or by my very side, there are things that we all must go through, but we don’t want to go through them alone. This is the purpose of community. When there’s a bump in the road, we lift each other up and over and across whatever boulder is headed our way.

This is what I learned at least now, in this very moment, as I sat down to digest all that had occurred today.

What’s fascinating to me is that today’s events, they happened. And now they are done, and now I am a separated, reliving in my memory our shared moments. It’s true what they say: there is only the present. And of course it is true. It’s just so easy to forget.

I will say it’s been quite a while since I last had this feeling of contentedness. Sure, there are some characters in the group and around the place, but everybody is working so hard on themselves, and the ones who don’t need to anymore, in one way or another, have all the wisdom to share.

—

Another recurring theme of this trip is the message, “You are so much more than your body. Please just wake up and see the truth.” I find that incredibly humbling and enlightened. And if you would ever stop to think about it, you would realize that this is the actual truth, which is why I guess they’re calling it the truth.

—

I do feel so clear. When I breathe, there’s less junk in the airway.

I feel like I’m experiencing myself like I haven’t in a long time.

The fears are still there, of course. But I am so aware of them that they’re hard not to dismiss. My 5 p.m. yoga instructor said, “Let the thoughts pass like end credits.”

Genius, I thought.

They are so beautiful with the metaphors here, and that really helps me because I do love a good metaphor.

—

I want to express myself endlessly. But I also want to fall back. I guess because expressing myself helps me think. And what I am beginning to wonder is, if the goal is to not think as much, then why have I been paying so much attention to redirecting my brain and telling it what other stuff to think, versus just quieting it?

If I chant something in my mind, a sound, a mantra, there’s no space for everything else.

Perhaps that’s the answer in such a busy world. Not to just fill it up with more nonsense that gets more granular by the minute, by the second, by the swipe. There’s simply too much information.

Anyway, somebody in class today brought up what you do in the moment when you’re overwhelmed. After Swami walked us through her thoughts, I shared that I go to the restroom at work when I’m overwhelmed and take deep breaths. And she asked me if she could quote me in her book, and I said, “Please do.”

My favorite part of these days is coming back to my room, spewing out my stream of consciousness into my phone, hitting the post button, and going to sleep.

Until next time!