Who Am I?

Enlightenment Intensive #1
April 14-18 2005
Mt. Baldy Zen Center

(Scroll down to "Day One" to skip the intro and just read about my first EI experience itself)

Patrick arrives and I've left the details of our trip up to him--flight confirmation number and departure time. I give him his birthday present, Romio Shrestha's mandala book. It makes him happy and he says he is humbled. He always receives my gifts so sweetly and this makes me happy. We make a quick stop at my mom's so I can say goodbye and then he has a quick business stop to drop off some architectural drawings before we are off.

Patrick is on the phone most of the first 45 miles of our trip, making the business and personal closures he will need for the next few days. We are listening to a CD of an artist named Christopher Somebody and there is one song in particular that he wants me to hear, "Hold on to Love" but he needs to keep turning the music down so he can talk on the phone. He apologizes but I'm fine. I enjoy listening to his voice and witnessing some of his conversational style with others. I particularly like the lyrics of one song, "...the extent of my freedom is measured in the length I'm willing to disobey."

We park in the economy lot at the airport and I'm touched at Patrick's sincere appreciation of the parking lot attendant and amused at his ability to space out, walking away from his unlocked car with the driver's door left wide open. It seems obvious that his sweet and genuine affection towards others is a significant part of what takes care of him as he moves through life. The attendant calls him back to lock up the car.

As we wait for the shuttle Patrick makes another phone call. The shuttle arrives and I get on as he delays. I take my seat as he stands outside talking as the shuttle fills and then drives away. I'm a bit disconcerted about this turn of events, hoping that I can remember which airline we are traveling on. I exit the shuttle at Southwest and the next shuttle arrives momentarily, delivering him back to me.

We enter the airport and are greeted by fairly long lines with only half an hour before our flight departs. As neither of us have the confirmation number, we are stifled in our attempt to download our boarding passes. I call home seeking this information from my computer's desktop. Patrick calls his office and we both retrieve it at the same time. He goes to download our boarding passes but it's too late and he is only able to get some sort of "confirmation pass."

At the first security stop we have both misplaced our drivers licenses. Patrick finds his and gets through but mine is still missing. That darn thing has removed itself from the zipper compartment in my purse where I conscientiously placed it earlier in the morning. I empty the contents of my purse, all the while worrying that I've absentmindedly taken it out and left it at home and most certainly will not be allowed on the plane. When finding it seems nearly hopeless it mercifully reveals itself, only now I discover I've also misplaced my confirmation. Finally, I snatch it from the goblin that lives in my purse with the sole purpose of hiding things in an evil attempt to drive me crazy.

It's now ten minutes before departure which is when they start giving seats away. We prepare to move through the metal detector and the line is moving as slow as molasses but we make it through without a glitch which is amazing for me with all my silver jewelry and piercings (which tend to get me pulled aside and wanded down.) We're walking at a fast clip, carrying all of our bags to the gate which is of course at the far end of the terminal. Then we start running. Patrick is ahead of me and I do my best to keep up but he's quicker thank goodness because he arrives just as they are about to give the last two seats, our seats, away. The woman asks if we are confirmed and yes, thank goodness we are. She tells us how lucky we are and we board our flight, leaving two disappointed "wannabe in those seats" flight seekers behind.

As the flight is full and Southwest doesn't assign seats, we are separated which frustrates my plans for conversation. I also feel a little queasy which isn't unusual for me on planes and I wish I had Jerry to hang on to as he always comforts me so. It's a short flight and we land, gather our baggage and walk to find Cynthia, Patrick's friend who is picking us up. She and Miles, her two year old son, are waiting for us out front. Miles is a sweet and beautiful curly haired two year old in bare feet. He is amused by various activities and not anxious to get back into the car until Cynthia tells him that we are going to find snow in the mountains. I ask his permission to sit in the backseat beside him and am pleased that he welcomes me without reservation. He's a lovely child. I was hungry so we shared the food I brought. He liked the mung bean sprouts and rice but spit out the sunflower sprouts.

It's a fairly short trip up the mountain to the zen center at 6,000 feet elevation. Osha (who also masters intensives) is the first participant I meet. After settling into our cabins we sip tea in the dining hall and wait for others to arrive. We are given the basic run down of the physical environment and then pick out our "meal sets" which consist of three little hard plastic bowls, a cover cloth, drying cloth, napkin, and a little cloth case with chopsticks and a spoon inside. We receive instructions on how to use, wash, and store these eating utensils, basically, how to eat with zen mind. I immediately embrace this beautiful little practice as a meditative and artfully crafted eating experience. We share dinner and then settle into the dyad room for a lecture. After the lecture we retire to our cabins as we'll be up early in the morning.

Day One

I developed an efficient system of sleeping in the pants I would wear the next day with everything else laid out next to my bed. At 6:00 am (as every morning of the intensive) Roxanne, the monitor, awoke us and we had 15 minutes to get dressed, wash our faces, brush our teeth and walk to the dyad room to be seated for the bell to ring that started the first dyad. I found that mornings were a good time for experiencing openness in my contemplation and connection with others. I was easily present and found myself crying each day during the first morning dyad.

After the first dyad, Edrid, who mastered the Intensive, offered a short lecture and then we were given 15 minutes for exercise, 15 minutes for tea and then another dyad. Edrid incorporated a Preparation For Contemplation meditation into the schedule and the first part of it was called Nekashum which worked well for me. We would breathe into the central channel parallel the spine. With each inhalation we would go IN, and with each out breath we would stay IN, going IN deeper and deeper with each inhalation. I found that the stillness, silence and emptiness of non conceptual mind, which is the base of awareness, were easily available to me in my third eye area. We would move our arms and chant "Ah" with the intention of not obscuring the base of the stillness and silence.

After a dyad, lecture, exercise, tea, and another dyad we had 45 minutes for breakfast in silence. Meals were called "eating contemplation." Each meal consisted of a 45 minute break to eat, drink, pee, whatever, in silence. I forget the exact sequence of dyad communications, meditations, lectures, etc. but lunch would arrive and then we would have a 45 minute walking contemplation which was always powerful for me. The movement helped empty my mind and deepen my contemplation.

After walking contemplation there were more dyads and lecture and an hour break to relax, shower, rest and what have you. During this break we were allowed to share with Another, if we chose, but only for speaking of our enlightenment process. Some participants kept the silence better than others. The rules seemed to serve more as guidelines to facilitate our process, rather than as rigid control of our behavior that was strictly enforced.

All of the same issues as in my normal daily life emerged. I was sometimes distracted by Another and struggled with my desires and my fear of not receiving what I wanted. I had a lot of clutter in my mind that needed to be taken out like the trash.

Edrid encouraged us to focus on ourselves, our process and our question, while leaving others to themselves, purposely not trying to get Another to respond to us. I took this suggestion earnestly and became aware of my pattern of wanting to be noticed by Another, seeking validation of my existence by receiving a favorable response. I worked to disengage from this relationship dynamic and to stay in contemplation.

That night I walked to the rocks and Love kept coming up in my contemplation. I found a beautiful heart rock to bring home as a gift for Jerry. I brought it to the dining room for others to enjoy for the duration of the intensive.

Day Two

On my way to the first dyad, I reflected on my years as a Krsna devotee, rising early to make it to the temple for the 4:00 am worship which was considered the most auspicious time of day. I liked the feeling of walking that path early in the morning, traveling to gather with others to meet myself.

This day brought my first breakthrough into enlightenment, a direct experience. I had headed out to the rocks again. I loved walking on those rocks and feeling the movement under my feet. As I stepped on each rock I thought, "These rocks are each individuals, each lying here in their separateness and yet, they aren't separate, they are together in their beingness, each one doing their part to make up the mountain. The rocks came together and in their oneness they comprise the mountain. "I am a rock" I thought. I started singing the Simon and Garfunkel song "I am a rock, I am an island". My beingness as a rock transformed into knowing myself as the truth. I thought of the Zen saying. "There is no path to happiness, happiness is the path". And I said, "There is no path to the truth, the truth is the path." And then I experienced myself as the Truth and understood that there is no difference between the truth and the path. The Truth is the path. The path takes me to the truth, takes me to myself. I am the Truth. I am the truth and I am the path. The path is the truth and the path is me.

Truth + Path = Me, Truth + Me = Path, Path + Me = Truth.

It's a holy trinity sort of thing. Then I sited a gravel hill and climbed to the top. I sat there and cried, knowing the truth of my being and the significance of telling the truth as being my path to myself. I could not deny myself any longer. I would not deny myself any longer. I headed back down the gravel hill. I had climbed the mountain and was now descending, enlightened. I was the mountain and I was heading back into the valley of my life.

I talked with Edrid about my breakthrough and he told me to continue with the process, contemplating and sharing in the dyads, allowing the experience to settle deeper. I did share my experience in my dyads but it started feeling like an "enlightenment story" and that I was not honoring the actual knowing. I started resisting what felt to me like a "story telling process."

I wanted to connect with Patrick during the afternoon break and there he was, waiting outside. He told me I was glowing and asked how I was doing. I informed him of my breakthrough and asked him if he wanted to go lie in the sun and talk about it. He agreed and took me to a sweet little spot on the rocks. We got comfortable, striped down to a few less clothes and relaxed in the sun. He told me an enlightenment story about trees and I told him of my breakthrough and my resistance to telling the story. He encouraged me to continue talking about it.

I returned to the rocks for our walking contemplation that evening and mushed sand, gravel and earth beneath my feet. I was drawn to touch it, smell it, unite with it. I was in love with it.

Erik led us in Burmese breathing exercises late that night and then we had another dyad before sleeping contemplation.

Day Three

During the walking contemplation I returned to my enlightenment spot on the rocks. The direct experience returned and deepened, settling in. I now understood the advice from both Edrid and Patrick, for me to continue telling my story. It had helped me remember details of the breakthrough that I might have otherwise forgotten. I re-entered the "I am a rock, I am an island" part of my enlightenment experience in a deeper way. I experienced myself as an island, a refuge. I am the place of retreat, the place to go to for safety, the place to hold onto in the midst of the storm. I am a rock. I am an island. I am a mountain. Then the part of my breakthrough where "me as a rock" turned into "me as the truth" returned. I had just skimmed the surface of that experience but now it returned and deepened. I am a rock. I am steady, sure, part of the whole. My rock is my truth. My truth takes me to my rock, to my island. The truth is the path to myself. I again experienced remembering the story of Judas betraying Jesus and how I betray myself when I don't tell the truth. Then the metaphor of the crucifix and the path of suffering came to me and I knew that which makes me suffer--the denial of self. Denying the truth of myself is no longer an option for me. The consequences of the truth could never cause me to suffer to the extent that denying myself causes me to suffer.

I received a lot of insight along with my direct knowing. I understood the significance of story telling and the power of metaphor and symbolism--and of moving beyond these into actualization in my life.

My enlightenment settles in. I am a rock, I am an island. I am a mountain. I am the truth and the truth shall set me free. Freedom came to me. My truth is my freedom. I've been struggling to tell my truth. Fighting to experience my freedom--in love, in my sexuality, in relationship with Another. All others. Tell the truth Adrienne. Allow the reality of truth. Tell the truth to everyone--that's where my freedom lies. Don't let anyone take that power from me--the power of the truth, the freedom of the truth. The truth and freedom of self. I have freedom if I have the truth. If I have truth, I have myself. My prison is simply separation from self.

The dyads continue. I'm on and off, hot and cold, working my stuff. I've reached the peak and I'm descending the mountain. I've shared dyad communication with everyone but one person. I considered not connecting with this specific other whose energy seemed too loud, over dramatic, and annoying. I decided to go for it, to open myself to this connection for the last dyad of the intensive and it was wonderful. What an interesting and loving, supportive person, on the path to finding self, just like me.

After the closing talk I had a lot of anxious fear come. My mind was racing with various thoughts and I knew that I did not want to be alone that night and if it came down to that, I would have a difficult time holding on to myself. I felt an almost frantic urge to leave, to get down the mountain and away from the Zen Center. Ideas of lack, limitation and separation reared their ugly heads.

I connected with Paul, who offered Patrick and I a place to stay for the night and a ride to the airport in the morning. We were set and I was relieved. Paul gave us towels to shower and made us feel at home. I was in a very altered state. Patrick and I showered, shared a beer and I told him that I was looking for the warm body of a friend to cuddle with and he agreed to sleep with me. We went to bed and chatted and cuddled. He tossed and turned and had a difficult time settling down and I rubbed his back a little. When he finally dozed off I couldn't go to sleep. I laid there resisting my urge to toss and turn, not wanting to wake him. I was so full of energy I felt like I was going to explode. I could hear this loud buzzing and I couldn't tell if it was inside or outside of me. I willed myself to be still and finally dozed off and dreamed some outrageous dreams.

We awoke to Paul's voice, "Forty-five minutes until the next dyad." Ha. We dressed and he took us to breakfast where although the food and coffee wasn't great, the connection and conversation were sublime. Heloise, a psychotherapist from Chicago who was at the Intensive, happened to be on the same flight with us and we scored the last three empty seats together. I couldn't have asked for better company. Our ride home was fun and adventurous and I have fond memories of the love, friendship and good conversation...and the iris farm.