MY BUDDHISM MEMOIRS - EDITED EDITION

After recently revisiting the retreat, I returned to find that the initial report from ten years ago (which had been assumed lost forever) had been printed off by a lovely lady and I have begun to type it all out again so there is some kind of record if our forum happens to get hacked again.

Besides, the latest visit was almost identical and a new report would add very little.

So here goes...

I was very much in two minds over whether to report on my experience at the centre and had left it a day for my emotions to settle down a little and see how I feel.

I know I'm leaving myself wide open for ridicule and humiliation and if that's how people want to respond then there is little I can do about it.  I wrote from the heart at the time and there would be little point turning it into something of an afterthought to make it entertaining and 'safe' so have decided to pretty much post what I scribbled.

It's encouraging that people have actually come to me and asked me to report my experience so here goes.  I am not a writer.  I tried to put things down that can be clearly understood but don't care for the big words that will make me sound like I work for The Times. Mainly because I don't know any.

If people want to call me over sensitive, that's fine.  It doesn't matter.

If people want to call me too serious and boring, that's fine.  It doesn't matter.

If people say adding humour is taking the piss out of the people I shared that time with, that's fine.  It doesn't matter.

I don't want to sound like I have gone all religious because I haven't.  I don't even consider Buddhism a religion for 99% of the people that study it.  It's a way of life.  Nobody says Buddha created earth in five days or whatever it was and you would turn into a pillar of salt or be struck with lightning if you don't stick to the rules etc.  They are so much more likely to say "Oh well.  Best of luck.  It doesn't matter"

I look at it like they have put a destination in your GPS.  They have thrown in some waypoints and set you on your way.  If you follow the path the best you can, you will end where you want to be at the right time with all the fruits you picked up at the way points.  If you choose to go your own way, they will wish you luck.  You may well still get to the destination, but it may be the wrong season by now and what you were after has long gone.  But nobody gets upset that you went your own way.  That was your choice.  The waypoints are still there if you want to go back and try again.  Next time you may take the suggested route but miss out on a couple of waypoints.  You still picked up some valuable fruits along the way so that is better than last time and you have progressed.  It's your choice.  It doesn't matter.

I already sound a little goofy so I think I should get on and get it out of the way before I change my mind.  Christ it was five days not five months but it really did feel like the latter.  It is difficult to describe the situation and you really would have had to be there to understand but I will do my best.  I will do it day by day so there is not too much to put you to sleep. Of course as each day went by it was pretty much a carbon copy of the day before so you will soon be fast asleep anyway.

Day one

Okay this really should be called day two as we all know that I arrived a day early (my travel calamities have not improved since) and had to return home.  But for the purpose of the report let's call it day one.

Anyway, as I now knew the directions I arrived once again in plenty of time.  There were quite a few cars parked this time so I was thinking we may get as many as a dozen revellers.  There seemed to be so much more activity than last night, but then there would be.  The course starts today not yesterday!

After ringing the bell at the pearly gates, I was greeted and taken to the office by my old mate John who seemed a bit more happy to see me this time and we joked about my stupidity.  John carried out all the formalities and then introduced me to Dave - probably Australian although I am not good with accents - the centre manager.

Dave gave me the tour which started with showing me to my room.  Well not MY room.  A mini dorm really.  It was probably the size of my bedroom at home with the minor difference that there would be SEVEN of us sharing it for the duration.  My immediate thoughts were not of hygiene and squabbling or falling out etc. like you might get on a kibbutz or on big brother, but of snoring.  I have had a particular bad experience in a confined space with a snorer and it has always stopped me from sharing whenever I go away with the lads on poker trips.

Anyway, I was offered one of the two remaining beds...  bottom bunk in the corner or the one right in the middle of the room.  The bunk had a table by the side of it and curtains to pull round so I obviously opted for that one.

The bathroom was just outside up a flights of stairs.

I was then shown the ladies and the gents meditation areas and was surprised to see that they were separate.  I understand separate dorms and toilets and showers etc.  But separate meditation rooms???  I am sure it will all make sense soon.

Next it was off to the dining room where again it was pointed out that women have taken their food from this side and men from that side.  When you are finished.  You wash your plates up here...  More bad memories.  There were even separate sinks and separate fridges so that we never bumped into each other!!  It was now obvious they really didn't want any mingling going on at all and I'm sure if there was room for another dining room, they would have one totally separate.

During the tour, the focal building of the whole centre was pointed out.  (This is where in my original report I had an image of the pagoda in all its Glory.  But as this is the ten year anniversary edition of this report there are no videos or images.  In other words, they got lost when the site was hacked!)

Unfortunately, we as students would not be allowed inside the pagoda as this is for Buddhists only.  And probably only at a certain level.  David mentioned that people from all sorts of religious background often attend the centre and it would not be right for Muslims etc. to enter the pagoda and pray to their own higher being.  This hits home to me that Buddhism is not a religion opposing other religions, but a way of life that will accept anyone and everyone.  I probably have it all wrong, but this is the message I was receiving.  Anyway, I felt quite disappointed right now I would not be entering the pagoda but still looking forward to the time ahead with plenty of trepidation.

When I asked how many were attending, Dave told me there would be in excess of 70. Wow, I never expected that. They had come from all over the world and from every continent.  Apparently the teachers here are big cheese in the Buddhist world and I was sort of looking forward to meeting the people from Singapore, Burma, India, USA, Germany etc....  There were also a few of us in the minority from England.

After being asked to remove my necklace (it's only a bit of old string, not gold or across the or anything like that) and advised that NOBLE SILENCE begins at 7.30 PM I was left to it on my own.  Right, time to hit the greasy spoon for a nice fry-up!

Well obviously being vegetarian people I didn't expect much for this light meal and people weren't too far off with their bread and water comments.  But there was this large vat of soup which seemed to have just about every vegetable known to man in it and it seemed rude to not give it a bash.  I took my bowl and cuppa to a spare table (on the men's side don't forget) and there were three lads chatting on the next table.  Well actually only one was really chatting (English) about his building work and the other two occasionally responded but couldn't get much in.  I started to hope this guy wasn't in my dorm as he would drive me crazy. (he wasn't)

The soup was actually incredibly good.  I have never tasted so many flavours in a bowl of soup.  No idea what was in it, but it didn't matter.  I doubt many would leave too much to waste.

Back to the dorm, there were three lads there and we at first made the most of chatting to each other before the noble silence kicked in. The lad opposite me was from Swindon.  Above him was a German and to my left was a guy who had just arrived from Boston.  I'm assuming this is America but could be Canada? The others arrived after curfew or had been wandering around.  You would think given the time we had left we would cram in as much chat as we could but we all seemed a little on edge.  I suppose if I likened it to anything it would be like sitting outside a courtroom waiting to be called in.  You are all there for different reasons, different outcomes, but going in to the same arena. I actually learned very little about my fellow criminals students.

From here, I can only imagine this report will be the same every day. Here it goes then.
GONG... GONG... GONG. You could never miss the gong.

It was 7.30pm and we were off to our first group meditation.  Shoes off outside the meditation room, we went in one by one and for this first section were appointed to our area of the hall which we would keep for the remainder of the stay.  I was almost at the very back so I could keep an eye on everyone and it was a great spot if I accidentally wandered off the road and accidentally pressed record on lizardcam. (No lizardcam in 2019 version).  Most of the people in the room were already meditating.  There were cushions available to ease your comfort on top of the individual amounts already placed around the room.  Obviously for the older people I thought to myself.  Some had built themselves a little castle of cushions with the blanket wrapped around so they could handle inside like a mini tent.  A couple even had their own little wooden seats made up and cushions placed on top.  Come on for Biku's sake, how difficult can it be to sit on a floor? Ok I took a few spongey cushions just in case!

I sat on my sponge on top of the net and fidgeted for approximately 15 minutes.  I wish I had got more sponges now but didn't want to get up and disturbed people.  Nothing happened and I was getting impatient...  After 15 minutes!!!

Eventually, there was a creak of a door at the front of the meditation room and a side door had been opened.  A frail old lady was helped into the room by another woman and a man walked alongside him in a skirt.  Did I mention that the majority of the men in the room were wearing skirts?  Not those flirty little mini skirts that the Scottish where, but classy full length ones!!

The old lady was placed with her back to us facing the picture of who I stupidly assumed to be Buddha on the wall (I'm very naive at this point remember).  The man then sat on a small table and comfortably wrapped himself into the Lotus position facing us in front of a microphone.  The old lady mumbled  loads of stuff that was clearly not in the queen's mother tongue and then the whole room seemed to chant "Baaaa baaaa baaa". I didn't! I have since learned they were chanting "Saadhu Saadhu Saadhu" and now join in... just never know when to!
The second woman then helped turn the old lady round so she was sat facing us on a bench, not on the floor twisted in agony like everyone else... but on the shrine area . In fairness, the way she walked in I don't think she ever actually came out of a seated position, even when walking. Which brings me on to the older bunch who had obviously been 'studying' for centuries... they are all crippled! They creak and groan and are mostly bent over double. Now I don't want to sound too much like Gervais here, but considering there was a digital clock, microphone, stereo system, etc., these people clearly accept that things have evolved in the last 2,500 years. So could I make a suggestion... CHAIRS!!! FFS, I have been sat now for 25 minutes and can hardly move from one position to another without cramping in some area of my rapidly ageing body.

So now the old lady is facing us and the 'helper' backed away into a doorway. I don't think I have ever heard a room full of men so quiet. You could hear a fly fart. The man now aimed a remote at a music system (sigh: CHAIRS FFS!!!) and the 'ceremony' began. Some foreign language came at us through the speaker and it was clear it was a recording of the little old lady. I began to have a bit of a Milli Vanilli moment. She isn't even talking to us, it's a recording!!!. Occasionally she would join in the 'prayers' and my thoughts turned from Vanilli to Britney Spears. Must snap out of this. Maybe the poor lady can't talk well or something, move on. Anyway, after maybe 5 minutes of this recording, again the room filled with "Saadhu..." and they all bowed. My two room-mates who happened to be sat at my right and left (beginner's row) did not follow so neither did I for fear of getting above my station.

Now the man took over and spoke English. I guess he was either Russian or German and he reminded me very much of an old school master or a James Bond villain like DOCTOR NO or something. He did not welcome us, he did not introduce himself or the lady. He just got on with it. He went through the timetable and added a little more detail. He spoke of the Noble Silence and explained that there should be no more talking to each other until the course ends... WTF?? I expected to chat about each session then get back to the room with the lads and get the cards out. Well not quite, but I didn't think it would be 100% no chat. This was going to be a struggle. We were then requested to repeat some things after him. I have no idea what language it was in. Some were quite long sentences and I am sure I translated "Does your Mother play scrabble with a goose" at one point. My bones were hurting. Hurting real bad! At what point will he tell us how to sit properly to avoid the pain? He never did.

He began the meditation routine which in my brain came across as 'breath through your nose'. Is that it? I was beginning to feel a little cheesed off. Or maybe the pain was beginning to make excuses for attitude. A bit like calling allin with K3o 'cos I am tired'. Rubbish. It's just poor attitude. Snap out of it man. Within seconds of the meditation routine starting, the old Indian man behind me in the corner was snoring. Now I was really ready to explode. We haven't even made it to the dorm yet and one was off. This is not meditation. The mini Buddha was out for the count! Zonked. "Cnknnknknknknknzzzzz". Someone nudge him in the ribs. So disrespectful I thought. I soon noticed this was only affecting me as the others seemed to be sat comfortably, upright and not flinching at all.

With the praying and teaching seemingly complete, there was no further talk. The only sounds were from the mini Buddha in the corner and the now agonising groans from every stomach in the room straining under the effects of the everyveg soup. It was like the scene from Blazing Saddles without the final blowout as nobody seemed to want to go first. I myself was ready to explode and shifted to my 345th position to not only ease the pains but shift the gas away from the worst of the pain areas. It was only a matter of time surely. Thankfully, time ran out and as I was almost rolling around the floor in agony now, the rest of the room was brought from their trance by Doctor No speaking in a foreign language again. Please let this be the end. I am in no fit state to continue. He then said we would retire for the evening. It was 8.30pm and he really did mean it. That session was enough to retire any fit man. There should be no reading or writing as these are all distractions from what has been learnt. ffs. If anyone has any urgent needs, they can 'whisper' to the centre manager, but nobody else should talk.

When I eventually returned to the dorm and tiptoed to my bunk, I pulled the curtains and settled in. So, 'no distractions' from what I have learned. I tried to think what I had learned. Breathe through the nose? I already knew that one. Clearly this was meant as an ongoing thing, so nothing for it... I need to take notes. I took out my pad and began scribbling. This is what you are reading now. The light went out. Now here I need to explain what dark means in a place like this. It is not second-class dark like we might be used to at home... you know, where there are street lights outside and occasionally a couple of drunks wander by. This is posh dark, like Longines or Kosh are used to in their country houses. It was BLACK, real BLACK. And as quiet can be. So I used the little light on my mobile phone to give me the chance to scribble down the experience so far. Blimey I have been here 4 hours and I am climbing the walls already. Am I really up for this? The good news is it is now 9.30pm and I heard no snoring. Thank Buddha for that!!

I finish writing my notes and texting (back to the first waypoint for me) and my head hits the pillow with a thud. I could feel every bone whispering a quiet 'thank you' and my mind wandered off. The moment the first 'z' came from my mouth, CNKNNKNKKNKZZZZZZ... the first hippo started. It was a deep snore from such a young lad... in the scare of D major. Do I want to describe it? I want to fucking screammmmm!!! Be a one off. Be a one off. Please be a one off. Nope "CNKNKNKKNNKKXZZZZZ". Now the one to the right of me started. This was more of a C minor. Blissfully unaware of what there were doing to me (and maybe others, but right now I don't give a hoot what it is doing to the others, it's about me me me me ARGGGHHHHH). So, going back the first precept... no killing... I wonder it that included foreigners???

So, now I am again sitting in agony, thinking who can I text, wanting to kill, unable to sleep and the room has got hot... really hot. There is no air to breathe. I daren't open my curtains as I may be too tempted to accidentally suffocate a foreigner. As time went on, Mr. Swindon made a noise. Not you too? Actually, maybe this could work out well. If they are all snoring, it would end up more like the rumble of an engine, no gaps in the snoring would perhaps not even sound like snoring. Go for it, Mr. Swindon. Nope, he slapped his lips and went back to sleep. Before I know it, the time is 2.30am. I have to be up at 4am!!! I am dying a slow death here. I am so hot and tired. I am close to tears or murder. The only option is to go home. I will not be able to do a thing tomorrow. I need to leave. It all seemed so easy. Then I began to think of allt he people who had wished me well and how they would never understand what I had gone through. I have been here ten minutes (you will need to excuse the constant jumps in past and present. It was dark) and it feels like ten days. I am in agony and in a strange strange place. But I would be letting so many down, most of all me. I had to stay.

My head was back on the pillow. Now I heard people walking around the room. What now? It was still of course pitch black and deathly quiet but for the tiny footsteps. I looked at my watch and it was 4.10am. I panicked. First morning and I had overslept. Where the fuck was my GONG??? Of course, the first meditation session was not until 4.30am so I just about had time to compose myself ready for my first full day.

I was like a Zombie! Who shall I talk to about it? There was nobody.
Had I really only been here a few hours? Could I really do 5 days of this?

Day 2

People seemed to be wandering around aimlessly. I was following. I was completely braindead, like a zombie. I didn't know what I was doing or where I was going. Bear in mind this was still approaching 4.30am and the place was still pretty much in complete darkness. The strange thing that hit home was that everyone was behaving like zombies. I don't mean knackered like me although I am sure they were. Of course, I am used to people talking and it goes without saying that there would normally be a tired grunt of 'mornin' as you passed people in the corridors. Not talking means we would have to just nod ok? Nope. Everyone avoided eye contact. Not just between the men and the women. Everyone. Like they just deliberately looked the other way so they wouldn't have to acknowledge you. It was all becoming very difficult to take in.

The first session this morning was just meditation. We sat in our normal positions and meditated the way we had been 'taught'. Of course, this meditation gave another opportunity for little Buddha to sit in the back corner and snore his head off for an hour. Armed with more cushions, I did all I could to sit comfortable. I am just too old to suddenly become supple. It was not going to work. How could I ever possibly meditate when all I could think of was the pain in my back... or my knee...or my shoulders... or my neck... or the biggest pain in the arse sat behind me! Strangely, with all these thoughts going round in my head (see how focussed I was), something was beginning to become clearer. Distractions! To meditate well, you need a completely empty head of distractions. Let's say I had started talking to the man in front of me in the break. I would now know he was from say Germany. Perhaps he was a poker player in his spare time? Would I just forget this? No way, it would be in my mind and would no doubt crop up at some point while I was trying to meditate and think of 1pointedness (don't ask). Now multiply that knowledge I have of that one man by 70 and add it to the infintie amount of agonising pains in my back... am I actually beginning to understand this malarkey? To learn things I need to concentrate. To concentrate to the best of my ability I need an empty mind. To gain an empty mind is not a ten minute job. It needs to be worked on. We are working on that process, no matter how poor I am at holding my attention. It's making more sense now. So the simple answer is how to assassinate little Buddha. That really should be allowed and I may need to introduce a new precept.

The second session of the day was 'discourse'. To put it bluntly, 'teach' told us stories. I am sure there is a professional way of putting it, but that is pretty much what it was. This soon became my favourite part of the day, even surpassing the delights of everyveg soup. This is where I learnt things about Buddhism. And it bets doing nothing. Erm, I mean beats meditating for enlightenment.

The subject of killing came up (he read my mind) and it was soon apparent that it was not only concerned with humans, but all sentient beings. Ok, well obviously they mean like spiders n stuff. Just flush 'em down the plughole 'cos I saw this TV program that said spiders actually have air pockets in their legs that mean they can float and all they do when put down the plughole is grab on to a ledge or something and wait for the water to go by. Then they climb back out again. Sounds a bit weird that so not convinced it was a TV program. Ok, I can cope with not killing spiders. Should be a doddle in fact.

Armed with my new knowledge, it was breakfast time. I felt a little better now. No sleep, but I had learned some things and I was no longer suicidal. This was my first session with all students descending on the dining hall at once and is just so difficult to put into words what it was like but I will try. Including the kitchen staff and teachers etc., there were maybe 90 people in the room. It sat 80 odd, 40 on the left and 40 on the right. Some were getting food, some were eating food. Some were washing their plates and some were queuing for coffee. But of course there was one thing missing. Chat! It was a room full of zombies. You would sit opposite someone for the duration and not even look at them. Everyone was staring into space with the clutter of crockery and cutlery all around. I don't think I can ever explain what it was like and looking for the correct words only fail, with thoughts like 'ignorant' and 'rude' coming in to my head. I mean, let's say two of you go for the same kettle. I want to say 'no, after you squire' but I can't so I gesture. They step forward and use the kettle. I now feel like saying 'how about a fucking thank you then'?? but of course I can't and they cannot say thank you anyway. Eventually you just accept it. There is no point in manners. It now makes a bit more sense when certain nationality of people seem to be a bit more rude than others. I will go careful but I am sure you are aware. Perhaps their way and they are really very nice people. Just come across a bit rude.

Ok, the breakfast. I am delighted to spot an array of wonderful options. And ever more so when I walk to my table with a bowl of muesli topped with prunes, tropicana orange juice (with juicy bits) and a nice cup of coffee poured from the kettle that accidentally burnt the hand of the Chinese man that didn't say 'thank you'. Ahh, it was just like being at home. The exact same menu.

As I went back to the next 'group mediation' session, it became clear that the only difference between 'group' and 'individual' was that in the 'group' session, teach sat out the front and told us to breathe through our nose. Ok, that technique moved on a bit and it was helpful but once you have heard it a few dozen times it sort of doesn't need saying. He says it anyway.

I do not remember lunch. I knew this was a chance to sneak back to the dorm and zzzzzzz, so just wolfed anything down and ran off to the room. WTF. In the short time I had gone, the room had become infested with flies!!! What do I do? I cannot see any flykiller spray anywhere. I sadly knew the answer. This was not to be the norm. We live with the ever-increasing population of flies and wasps.

After an attempt to kip, I actually felt fairly sharp. Maybe all this mediation stuff was working? So I decided to take a shower. This wasn't too pleasant as the wasps and flies seemed to love this place. Feeling now a little lost and forlorn, I soon found myself taking a daylight stroll in the beautiful gardens.

The afternoon started by returning for - you guessed it - some meditation. As we entered the room, it was again perfect silence with the exception of one noisy bugger. No, not little Buddha but a bloody great wasp!! As we sat down, everyone in the room began mediation and they seemed completely oblivious to it. I on the other hand knew this was only ever going to be about that wasp and me. I had visions of it landing on my face. My immediate reaction would be to give it an almighty swat, smash it to the nearest wall and as it bounces off and hits the floor I jump up and stamp on its now crushed little head screaming 'muhahahahaha, die you dirty diseased little bastard. DIE muahhahahaha'.
Thankfully, the wasp didn't land on my face.

As I tried desperately to meditate, my mind this time wandered to the kitchens. Flies? Wasps?What do they do? Worse still, what about diseased bastard rats??? I really must try to stop interfering with 25 decades of Buddhism. They do what they do, leave it. Stop wandering off ffs.

5.30pm we sat for dinner. It seems I will now have more to say about the food than the sessions. What is there to say? Only 3 hours to go and another day complete and while that may be a good thing, I am not looking forward to another night with the hippos. At least my urge to hang from the rafters or do a runner seem to have passed. Tonight we had vegetarian food. If I am honest, it really isn't that bad.

Evening discourse was again informative. Every meditation session is again painful. Painful in body and a real struggle to focus (I was soon to learn that 'concentrate' was the last thing we are trying to do when meditating). Everyone had the same problem. It wasn't just me although the little people with soft squidgy arses did seem to have a distinct advantage over lanky people with no arse at all.

It is now well over 24hrs since I last spoke a word. I am really struggling to get to grips with it although it all makes much more sense now.

I hit the sack as soon as I could and before I knew it there were people walking around the room again. WTF? I slept right through without even knowing it. But where was my GONG???

Day 3

Needless to say, my scribblings are becoming less and less. There is nothing to write home about. It may be now all very boring but I am actually beginning to feel a sort of benefit and understanding things so much more.

I mean, what are your first reactions when someone tells you that you cannot speak for 5 days and you will need to live with wasps and flies? Ok, it may not sound horrendous but when you actually try it, it is more than horrendous. And try sitting on your arse for just 5 minutes and think of nothing. Go on, try it!! Then think of doing that for up to ten hours a day without the opportunity to whinge about it! Again it is difficult to put into words this situation I find myself in. I am beginning to walk like a cripple now. It takes forever to stand up from a session and there is nothing to relieve this pain.

Today, we have a rock solid frost.

Morning discourse was again very good and I am now really understanding so much more about things that seemed so strange at first.

The 'individual lessons' (once a day) are not actually individual, but students are called to the front in groups where they sit in front of Doctor No and he asks them if everything is ok. You then whisper any concerns you have which of course come through the microphone so everyone can hear. This is the only time that the girls join the boys as they sit at the front of our room. It is only now that I realise that the two med rooms come to a point where teach sits. I don't like to see people suffer but I was almighty glad that most concerns people had were of their own pain and problems focussing on 1pointedness. It's not just me. I say focussing instead of concentrating as with the latter you are putting an effort into trying but the aim is to have no effort at all and completely empty the mind. Thinking of nothing is so hard to do. We all live most of the time semi-conscious while thinking of the past or the future. It is very hard to put yourself in the 'now'.

I remember the first time I got called up. I wanted to say 'Who is the old dear and why is she allowed to sit up like that while the rest of us suffer?' but it came out something like 'May I ask who the lady is who joins you up here'. He replied that she was for many decades the chief disciple to the bloke in the picture and she is the head honcho in this centre'. Or something like that. I said thanks but really wanted to say 'just gimme a bloody name buddy. I will google her'. I also asked what language she was miming to and he replied Burmese.

Anyway, for today's individual lesson, we were joined by the old dear. Ok, I will let you in on a secret. She is Mother Sayamagyi. Google it. I felt quite honoured that she will be answering today's concerns and for me this was a major turning point. Up until now, I had been very conscious of doing my best to follow everything very strictly. I wanted to succeed in whatever it was I was trying to succeed at. Discipline has never been my strong point but with the exceptions of the odd wander from the path (I did no writing or phone on second visit) I was happy with my attempts to stick to the rules.

The first 6 girls came in and faced big Ma. The first one dared to mention something. I would have frozen and just whispered I am fine thanks. She said 'I feel very sleepy all the time'. Unlike previous sessions with Doc No, this time he translated it into Burmese for big Ma. It is probably worth mentioning here that if did not matter what language you spoke. He responded to everyone in their language. Incredibly impressive man. Anyway, big Ma responded with something and began laughing at the end of it. We all laughed with her. No idea why because none of us had a clue what she had said. We just did. My own thoughts were that she had become Nan from the Catherine Tate show and had responded with 'Oh fuckin chill out'. I wasn't actually far off. Her translation came back as "Well go and take some sleep then". Whaaat? A weight was off my shoulders. We didn't actually have to sit there in agony for hours on end. We could actually move! After being faced with the sinister glare of teach for what seemed like months, this woman was saying if you feel sleepy, go and sleep. If you feel stiff, go for a walk and do some pilates! If you feel thirsty, there is a pub in the next village that has karaoke on a Sunday night! (those might not be literal translations). It was music to my ears. I was really struggling to concentrate with little Buddha snoring away in the corner. It was probably jealousy but from this point onward, if I struggle in the med room I was off to the garden to find a nice place to sit in the sun.

She was pretty much saying the only way you can find true peace of mind is to have no distraction at all. So don't force things upon yourself that distract you. Enlightenment was one step closer.

Each session was beginning to hurt more and more and it was taking me longer and longer to stand up. It was no wonder that the older ones could barely do that even when walking. It was around this time I caved in. I went to the centre manager and whispered that I could take no more constant pain and he arranged a small chair for me. He said he was surprised nobody had already asked. By the following session, there were 4 more chairs at the back. The elders continued to force their chin towards their ankles in stubbornness. It seemed like we were all just waiting for someone else to ask first. This alone was like finding Nibbana. I still find it more than a little crazy that people are forced (requested maybe) to stick with tradition and sit on the floor. From this point onward, my focus during meditation was increased tenfold, not just due to my chair but also wandering the gardens and resisting the temptation to kill little Buddha.

Day 4

The presence of the hippos was very strong again overnight. But I seem to be able to shrug it off so easy now. Maybe it is the pain and the lovely feeling of lying down. Yes pain. Seated is easier but still not much fun. Perhaps I was just getting used to the sound of snoring and it no longer bothers me. I doubt that. Maybe it is just because my mind doesn't have a ton of stuff cluttering up my thoughts and the frustration of snoring blocking my thoughts is now not so much a problem? Who knows. It just isn't bothering me now.

Lunch today was a little different. As I queued up, I noticed people scooping up large portions of what looked like potato soup from the vat. I did the same of course. As 3 large chunks of potato landed on my plate, I realised this particular breed of potato was egg. It was curried egg in fact. And whilst it was delicious it did confuse me a little as knowing nothing about vegetarians and knowing their precept of abstention from killing, I figured they were killing an unborn chicken. I had also thought eggs would be a no-no as I had notably never seen fried eggs or scrambled eggs for breakfast. I guess neither or them really work without a big fat juicy sausage to go with it. I am sure a veggie can explain it to me. Either way, I wasn't bothered 'cos it was bloody lovely.

As I got stuck in with my side dish of spinach and mushrooms and the most tasty spring rolls I have ever had (no wonder Buddha was fat) I couldn't help wonder if the med room could cope with this today. You certainly wouldn't want to light a fag in there later!

After finishing the main meal, I was on my way out when I spotted sticky toffee pudding. Awww come on, this ain't no health camp and I was never going to be walking out fit as a fiddle, if I could walk out at all. Next to the pudding was a large pot of pink sago with jelly pieces in it. I had regressed to being 5 years old. Get stuck in!

The sticky toffee pudding was amazing and as I dived into the sago, CRUNCH. It must have been heard by the whole room. I stopped stunned in my tracks, thinking damn I just bit straight through a prune stone. But this dish didn't have prunes. So I sneakily spat it onto the spoon and stared and stared until it came into focus. It wasn't prune stone. In fact it was made of clear plastic. And it was in the shape of - dear God no - TEETH!! It was some kind of tooth fitting. I went white. I was going to faint. I kept on staring thinking it would go away but it didn't. I put it in the sticky toffee pudding bowl. Someone on the table caught sight of me and also just stared at the fitting in the bowl. I will never know for sure exactly what it was. Who could I ask? I didn't eat any more sago that day.

Not one for complaining I sat there quietly. If I was to complain, I would complain to Nokia. The previous day, before I got brave recording videos (shoot me) I tried to sneakily record the sounds of 80 people eating in a diner with no talking. So I used my phone having already put it on silent. All was going well until I hit record. BRRRINNNNGGGG blared out across the room and everyone and his dog stared direct at me. Of course, I turned round and looked at the person behind me in a wild bluff attempt but it didn't work. So if you are going to have a shortcut to a silent phone, please make sure the phone becomes silent you clowns. How is a man meant to break the rules in peace? Thanks for listening.

After my tooth contraption experience, I felt quite sick so went for a walk in the gardens. Something very strange happened. I am sure you will all think I am bonkers but it still happened. I sat on one of the singe sear benches that happened to be beneath a particularly lovely tree (treeus gorgeousus). In no time at all, I had flies coming to say hello. Normally at home I would immediately react by swatting the buggers away. But instead I felt so calm that I just looked at a few of them on my left hand. I placed a finger near one. This would normally have got it to up and disappear of course. But it didn't. Instead it crawled up on to my finger. I did the same with my other hand and it did the same again. I found myself lifting one of them right up close to my eyes to stare at it. It made no attempt to fly away and quite naturally (right?) I found myself whispering to it. This I realise is weird, even when re-typing it ten years later. I know it sounds weird. But think about pigeons in your back garden. You can't get close, yet in a town centre they walk around shoppers 'cos they know they are safe? Maybe a poor analogy. But could it actually be that they are sort of tame? I mean, there is nowhere for miles around. Do they know that they are not going to come to any harm in their short little time here? Am I losing the plot? Ok I agree. I am losing the plot.

Update: On the second visit last weekend, walking the gardens I took the grass route. As I came round one particular high bush, sat on the grass in front of me was a grey squirrel. Just looking at me. Made no attempt to move. So I took a step back and laid down on the grass. The squirrel carried on looking for a while, then casually wandered past me. As it went over to another bush area, I got up and followed. It just went in and out of branches, back out again, in front of me and back in. It really was not bothered about me at all. It was all very bizarre and brought a bit of a lump to my throat. Why can't we all live like this?

By the way... the missing GONG. It is so easy to think we are all here on a remote island with no civilisation for hundreds of miles. It is easy to forget that there are actually surrounding areas and villages that would not appreciate being woken by three loud gongs every morning. Apparently, it is not every morning. (update: they now use a handheld thing that someone wanders round the luxury apartments with. No more gong).

Tonight's discourse was fascinating. Well at least it would have been if little Buddha hadn't put on his best performance to date. It is very difficult to really focus as it is but this was horrendous. Why is he even in here? What is he gaining by just being fast asleep all the time? It was a close call between compassion and lobbing my phone at him but of course compassion won through for fear of being caught with my phone. Little Buddha probably already has awakening and has no need to learn but at this moment there is little sign of him awakening at all. Strangely, the moment teach said that is the end of tonight's discourse he was up and out like a shot. Probably needed his sleep.

Tonight's supper was mainly leftovers. I chose to pass on the sago and had a biscuit!

Day 5

So I have survived until the last day. I woke feeling quite sick this morning. Was it the egg curry? Was it just through eating far too much for 5 days solid? Being bitten all night long by my new little winged friends? The tooth contraption? Or just the sheer anticipation and relief that today I would be going home?

Morning discourse was a bit of a struggle today even though little Buddha had decided to have a lie-in. Weird thoughts were going round in my head about leaving.

Lunch however was gorgeous. Aubergine meal with cheese and tomatoey sauce. Spinach and mushroom on the side and tomato tarts. Some of these chefs wouldn't be out of place in a posh restaurant if they could avoid things falling from their mouths. Again, I gave the sago a miss.

Now this might sound very pathetic but after lunch I went to my bunk and wrote letters to my remaining roomies (some had gone, some were staying another 5 days). It has been frustrating beyond belief not being able to talk to them and find out a little about them. We are half way through what might or might not be our last day and I know nothing about them.

As it is definitely the last day for me, I am going to attempt to spend every allowed minute in the med room to try to soak up the surroundings. Nothing to do with it pissing down outside.

It's interview time again in the afternoon. I overheard a couple of mumbles and each time teach responded with something like "Well Visappana begins tomorrow which you will find much more interesting". Oh great, just what I need to hear. WHOAH. Am I showing signs that I actually want to stay. Before I could really let that sink in, I was called up along with me mukkas. Again he repeated the Visappana thing and it got to me a bit. Resisting the urge to say I was a bit cheesed off the knees-up starts tomorrow when I am leaving today I instead said I was disappointed the more interesting Visappana starts tomorrow to which he replied that I should practice the meditation at home and if I later get the time or inclination to return then stay for ten days. I was hoping he might just say take this CD with you and have a bash at home. I have since learned that we had so far been taught Anapana meditation for tranquility. Visappana is for insight. Just so you know!

My last discourse went well. Just one more session now and it is all over. I went for one last walk around the gardens. Although it was completely pitch black, quiet and very eerie, I felt strangely at ease and for once I hardly strayed from the path.

This is when it happened. As I came back towards the building, it all just hit me hard. I really have no idea what came over me but I was just overcome with every emotion. It is difficult to explain and really quite embarrassing to type. I had spent 5 days in intimate conditions with people I had never actually met. I had spent 5 days in a room with 7 blokes and knew nothing about them. I had spent 5 days doing the same things as 80 other people. We spent the night doing the same things, the day doing the same things. Yet we had never said hello and won't be saying goodbye. I didn't know a thing about them and never will. I wanted to know why they were there and discuss what they had achieved. I was never going to know. It all just got too much for me. I was like a blubbering baby girl ffs. Get a grip man. I couldn't go straight to the med room like this. I had to go to the dorm and get composed first...

I got to the room in almost darkness. The room was very dimly lit and I sat on the side of the bed with my head in my hands. Pete (Swindon man) appeared from behind the curtain and I heard him rummaging around in his bag. Then I heard some scribbling. He got my attention (luckily he couldn't see the state of me) and put up 9 fingers. I replied with 8, letting him know what time I was leaving. He approached me with his notepad. 'I feel like we have all bonded but then we part just like that. It is so frustrating'. I gave him my letter which had offered to stay (stay??) in touch by email. He now decided as I was leaving he would whisper to me. He doesn't have email. We then discussed precisely what I had been saying here. I mentioned again that I badly wanted to know why people had come to the retreat in the first place, even though I would not be able to answer myself. I didn't know why. He whispered that he was on a spiritual path and I looked at him as if to explain more.

'After 22 years of marriage, my wife went to a multi-storey car park and jumped off".

That was it, I was gone. I am gone now even writing this. I just collapsed.

The gong saved me and he was gone. I arrived at the last session a complete wreck. I couldn't focus on a thing and was just totally overcome. The moment big Ma left the building, so did I. I turned to my French roomie who was deep in meditation and tapped him on the shoulder to wave goodbye. Same with Pete.

I left as quietly as I entered not knowing who these people were.

After packing the bongo, I returned to the office, bought some books, made a last donation and left.

I had to stop down the road to compose myself as I was struggling to see. This is now all too pathetic. I put the radio on to listen to the football. Some solace. It was half time and the news came on. 'The actor who played Doctor No has died'. Oh gimme a break ffs.

Ok I did warn you it would be from the heart. As embarrassed as I am by a lot of it, there it is. Fill your boots. I can take it. It doesn't matter!