Adventures in Meditation—Continued

Vipassana—Seeing Things As They Really Are

By day 4 my hay fever and cold had mercifully subsided and I was feeling more into the swing of things. Day 4 was also significant in that it is the day we learned the actual Vipassana meditation technique—body awareness. To fully learn the technique properly you have to take the 10-day course, but in a nutshell you learn to focus all your attention on the sensations in your body and scan your body from head to toe and toe to head. Every cell in our body experiences some sensation every second, we have just never been aware enough to feel or notice most of the sensations. I remember the first time doing Vipassana (“seeing things as they really are”) that day and tears coming to my eyes as I scanned my body and reached my hands. I felt such life and energy in my hands and thought “I’ve had these hands my whole life and have never really felt or realized their power until now.”

Vipassana also helps you experience first-hand the universal law of impermanence. Every sensation in our body shares the same characteristic—impermanence. Sensations arise and then pass away, arise and pass away. This is always the case. Pleasant sensations or painful sensations, they are all the same. By learning this through our own experience we develop “equanimity”, meaning a balanced mind. When we have equanimity we don’t crave pleasant sensations or hope they always stay when they arise, and we don’t feel aversion to unpleasant sensations and hope they go away as soon as they arise. We realize that all sensations are the same—impermanent—and so we learn to observe objectively without craving or aversion.

Sittings of Strong Determination—Meditation by Fire

To help us develop equanimity, starting on day 4 three of the one-hour meditation sessions each day are designated as “sittings of strong determination”. We are instructed to strongly determine in our mind that we will not move our legs, hands, and arms or open our eyes for the entire hour. I literally almost choked on the intrepid fear that jumped in my throat at that announcement. You’ll recall my stark inability to sit still on day 1, and although my hay fever and cold had improved by day 4, my ability to sit still in meditation had not. But, almost in a split second of foolhardy courage, as that first one-hour meditation began, I determined in my mind that I would not move. That split-second decision may have been one of the most important of my life.

Words literally cannot describe the ordeal and physical turmoil I went through in that hour. Nor can they encompass the shear fear and mental struggle of one hour. How long can an hour be? Is it possible that hours can actually be different lengths in our lives? All I know is that was definitely the longest and most arduous hour of my 26 years. The only mental image that comes close to describing what I felt is a soldier being tortured in a prisoner of war camp, except my pain was self-enforced. My legs felt like burning bricks, and my knees throbbed with so much pressure I was positive if I opened my eyes they would be three times their normal size. I just knew they were going to explode. Our teacher says that everything is impermanent, but I was positive this pain was not going away. In fact my biggest fear was that the pain and damage from such a foolish experiment would be more long reaching than just this one hour—was this even healthy? Could I be doing permanent damage to my body through such foolishness? Oh the mind games your devilish little mind can play in such times. But the words resounded in my head “The heavens may move, the earth may move, but my legs WILL NOT MOVE”. I had already strongly determined in my mind. I had come to Vipassana seeking peace and even if I had to walk through hell fire I was not going to turn away from my purpose. So I sat there forcibly shaking in pain, fear, and determination to not move no matter what…second after second, minute after minute after minute.

The mind games you play in such times really are endless. Every little sensation is torment. Your nose starts to itch, but you can’t scratch it. How long can an itch continue before going away?—a minute, five minutes, ten minutes? How long can you go just observing an itch without scratching? A bead of perspiration forms on your forehead and slowly starts to inch its way down your face, taunting you with its itchy crawl knowing you are powerless to stop it. In vain you wish that drop of sweat would just quickly fall and be done with it, but instead 5 more droplets of sweat form on your forehead and start their own slow descent. “Wait, what’s that on my back and arm?” you think. “It’s a spider. It’s just your own sweat. No it’s not I know it’s a spider” the mental banter drones on. “Just observe. Well what if it bites me? Then that is impermanent too, the bite will eventually get better—just observe. Well what if it is a fatal, poisonous-spider bite? Then you will die and that is impermanent too—Just observe!”

In spite of my belief to the contrary, the hour did eventually end. I opened my eyes, but could still not move my legs—frozen, or was they burned—etched into my meditation mat. After a few minutes I was able to pry my legs open with my hands and mentally will myself to stand and stumble, literally, out of the meditation hall. I wanted to cry, but all I could do was stifle back laughter, a kind of crazy, traumatized laughter. I felt like I had witnessed a car crash, or was in a car crash. Maybe I was the car crash. Post-Meditation Traumatic Stress Disorder—maybe that should be added to Psychology textbooks.

But the important thing was that I did it. I had faced pain beyond my imagination and stared my own fear in the face—and remained still. Still. Maybe that’s what peace is, or at least the beginning of peace.

Well, peace was not exactly what I felt when the next hour of strong determination rolled around. “You mean I have to do this three times a day, every day, for the next 6 days?!!” That’s what I was thinking, kind of more along the lines of fear and disbelief. The amount of courage it took to walk back into that meditation hall knowing exactly what I was going to face. Removing my sandals and stepping barefoot into the hall, I felt like the countless others throughout history who have knowingly and willingly walked to their death. The fear had definitely returned, but there was a big difference this time. Somehow the fear was a lot more manageable. This was fear of the known. The first time I had no idea how long an hour was, I did not know if my determination would be enough. But now I knew. This was not an academic or mental knowledge; I knew from my own experience. That is wisdom. That is liberation.


I could write and want to write so much more about that first Vipassana course. But right now I am sitting in my Taipei apartment with bags packed and a bus to catch to those same remote mountains in central Taiwan, and another Vipassana course awaits. The adventures in meditation continue.

I’m excited to tell you all how this next chapter goes on my quest to enlightenment when I return February 6th.

Until then…

Lots of Love,
Benji

Adventures in Meditation

On Monday I begin my second 10-day Vipassana meditation course here in Taiwan. So before I take the plunge again I wanted to review my first experience with Vipassana.

The official Vipassana website (www.dhamma.org) explains, "Vipassana means seeing things as they really are. It is the process of self-purification by self-observation". Meditation has interested me for a while and really wanted to give it a try. I wanted more peace in my life and to feel calm and comfortable with myself. I was also curious to know what it was like to not talk for 10-days--no talking, no reading, no writing, no music...no nothing. I think that's what sealed the deal for me in deciding to give Vipassana a try. I'm an extremist and believe that new experiences add spice to life.

The 10-day Vipassana course was probably the hardest thing I've ever done--which is significant coming from someone who has served a 2-year mission. I love how the website says "Vipassana is not a holiday, rest cure, or escape from everyday life"...haha, they weren't kidding. Ironically, it wasn't even the no-talking part that was difficult (and believe me, I am a TALKER). The silence was actually quite soothing and relaxing. It's hard to succinctly express why it was such an arduous and significant experience for me. Maybe you'll understand a little better if I share a few of the more impressionable memories of the 10-days.

Rocky Beginnings

I arrived at the Vipassana center located high up in the remote mountains of central Taiwan on a blistering June afternoon. I unloaded my baggage at the foot of my hard-wood plank bed in the male "dormitory" which looked a lot more like a low-budget scout camp barrack to me. The bedroom, with no air-conditioning or fans, was even more sweltering than outside. I stood there sweating watching a spider weave his web next to my "bed", reminding me that in addition to silence we had vowed not to kill any being for the 10-day duration--including mosquitoes and spiders. Luckily I didn't know then the variety of spiders I would co-exist with for the next 10-days (the likes of which I swear could rival any spider you saw in the movie "Arachnophobia") or the number of mosquitoes that would swarm around me taking jabs at their helpless prey as I tried to blow them off my skin.

The mountain landscape in full bloom also decided to test my determination, and upon arrival I started to sneeze incessantly with hay fever. Combined with the cold I had already started developing, my nose and mouth started to compete for my attention as I spent the next 2 or so days splitting my time between blowing my nose and sneezing.

I felt like the walking dead the entire first day beginning when I woke up at the scheduled 4 a.m. with the rest of the meditaters and stumbled into the meditation hall. Everyday we started meditating at 4:30 a.m. and pretty much meditated all day with breaks for breakfast and lunch (no dinner) and 10 minute breaks to stretch and walk every hour or two. The schedule is challenging enough under normal conditions, but with my hay fever and cold those first two to three days, I was sure it would do me in.

To make matters worse, the first three days of meditation are aimed at focusing all of your attention on the breath coming in and out of your nose--um, kind of difficult when there is nothing coming out of my nose besides...well you get the picture. I'm sure I was a vision of absolute misery sitting there eyes closed, cross-legged in the meditation hall, wads of Kleenex in my pockets and hands trying to manage my nose as I attempting to meditate.

That first day was a debacle in more ways than one. The meditation hall also has rules. You are to sit in meditation position on your mat and remain as still as possible. However, you are permitted to move your legs if they become too painful. But out of respect to the teacher, you are never allowed to have your legs outstretched towards the front of the room where the teacher sits--even if the teacher is not present. Keep in mind that prior to those 10-days I had never even attempted to meditate for any length of time longer than 10 or 15 minutes, so that first 2-hour sitting at 4:30 a.m. felt like the longest experience of my life and not just because I had to wipe my nose every 15 seconds. Within the first 10 minutes my legs started cramping; that's when I knew I was really in for it. And so I commenced a not-so-graceful dance of trying to move my legs around one at a time every few minutes in different creative ways to lessen the pain but also being careful not to have them fully-outstretched in the direction of the teacher's seat. Moving my legs one at a time started becoming less effective after the first hour as the pain intensified, so I relinquished and unfolding both of my legs placing each to one side in front of me. In my mind I thought I was being very careful to follow the rules since neither of my legs was facing directly forward, not realizing that this coincidently left me sitting spread eagle in the meditation hall.

Not much time passed before I received a tap on the shoulder, and my eyes flew open to see the male supervise standing over me. He motioned for me to adjust my position to something more appropriate for meditation and whispered that he wanted to see me in his office during breakfast. "Oh man, that's just great!" my mind shouted--probably at my legs, it was their fault after all. Our first meditation session, and I've already been called into the principals office. I can't even meditate correctly without getting in trouble.

The supervisor didn't really rebuke me as much as express the teacher's concern for me and my ability to complete the 10-day course after observing my extreme difficulty at sitting still and the obvious hay fever problems I was having. I'm sure part of the concern stemmed from my being the only non-Taiwanese participant in the course and one of only 3 people under 30 (almost everyone was in their 40's, 50's, or 60's.) I'm sure they were thinking "What is this young little punk American kid doing here? Thinking he can lounge around, spread eagle in meditation!" If only they knew how hard I was trying. But I was there because I wanted to be there and I knew that I would make it through the 10-days.

To be continued... : )

Ok, it's late here in Taiwan and I need to go to bed so I can play piano in Church tomorrow, so I'll continue the story tomorrow.
Until then....

Lots of love,
Benji

Synchronistic Beginnings

Let me begin by saying that I believe strongly in synchronicity-- meaning fortuitous events, things, or people that just "show up" in your life by seeming coincidence, but are really part of some greater design. As I start to see synchronicity more and more for what it is and recognize it in my life, I live more consistently in gratitude and awe for the Universe.

We can sometimes look back in our lives and pin-point the very moment that changed the path of our life's journey. The day I met Melanie was one of those moments.

No more than two weeks after arriving in Shanghai on my quest to be the first American Chinese Pop Star, I was walking to the internet cafe on a sunny July afternoon when I saw a white lady walking her dog. In any other Chinese city this might have been enough to grab your attention, but in Shanghai with a million foreigners this was not uncommon in the slightest. So I was surprised when I had the sudden urge to go talk to her. I fought the urge telling myself I was in a hurry and didn't want to make a stuttering fool of myself talking to some random lady when I had nothing really to say. I felt the prompting again, and once again I shot it down. Not until the third time did I relinquish. However by then she had already passed me, so I did a 180 turn, went up to her and said the first thing I could think of: "Do you know where the Boona Cafe is?" (I had already been to the Boona cafe a number of times and knew exactly where it was. I just needed something to say--yes, I can be that pathetic).

She was really nice and I picked up on her American accent right away, so we struck up a conversation and introduced ourselves. Melanie had been living in Mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan for the past 20 years doing PR and she was enthralled by the idea of my coming to China to be a pop star (which I of course had mentioned within the first 30 seconds --I told you, I'm shameless). She gave me her card and we set a time to meet the next week (at Boona cafe of course) and chat over a drink.

As soon as we sat down, ordered our carrot juice, and started talking, I knew that Melanie and I were going to be good friends. Maybe it's more accurate to say that we have always been friends. There was just a vibe about her that I resonated with. We chatted excitedly about...well, everything--our beliefs, thoughts, health regimes, goals, careers. I knew then, and we have definitely proved since, that the two of us can talk for hours without tiring.

In many ways, meeting Melanie that day 2.5 years ago marked the beginning of a new era in my spiritual journey and personal discovery. A small yet significant example are the two experiences she shared with me that first time talking over a glass of carrot juice-- The 7-day cleansing fast at Spa Samui in Thailand and the 10-day silent meditation at the Vipassana center in Taiwan. I told her that I wanted to do the cleansing fast right away and I eventually wanted to do the meditation course--like maybe in 10 or so years. Within one month of meeting Melanie I was on the beaches of Samui experiencing how 7 days of hunger really feels, and now next week I will be doing my second 10-day silent meditation course at the Vipassana center here in Taiwan (more on both of those in later posts). I still joke with Melanie about how many converts she has, but I was definitely the fastest : )

Melanie has been a true friend in every sense of the word. She has been my confidante, adviser, and even unofficial publicist through all my adventures in Asia. The countless lunches we spent chatting together are some of my dearest memories in Shanghai. Her generosity, sincerity, wisdom, and love continue to teach me volumes.

The picture above is of Melanie (right), Beth (middle) and me eating chocolate cake on my 26th birthday. That's the other great thing about friendship--it grows. Through Melanie I also met one of her best friend's, Beth (who, as you might recall from my first post, did my hand analysis). I feel blessed to have met two of my best friends who are also examples and spiritual mentors to me. Thank you Universe.

What kind of sychronicities have you seen in your life lately? What kind of friends do you wish you had? I bet the Universe is waiting and ready to introduce you.

Lots of love,
Benji

Yes We Can!

Yesterday, I watched President Barack Obama's Inauguration live along with countless millions throughout America and the world. Sitting alone in my Taipei apartment in front of my laptop at 1 a.m. watching Barack Obama take the Presidential oath on CNN.com LIVE is a memory that I'm sure will be with me for years to come. I felt privileged to witness History in the making. I had a perma-grin the entire time and couldn't keep myself from clapping and cheering at intervals along with the rest of the crowd. I laughed at the random people with their eyes open during the prayer (no names--Michelle and Sasha! haha) Of course I had to keep my eyes open, I was watching on the internet--what was their excuse?? : ) And I was proud to be an American as I stood alone in my bedroom in Taiwan, hand over my heart, singing the Star Spangled Banner along with the President, First Lady, Marine Corps Singers and millions of Americans.

I love what President Obama symbolizes to me and the rest of the world. I love that the Audacity of Hope shines through even in seemingly dark times. I love that the American Dream still lives on and that it is becoming the world dream. You can be whoever and whatever you want to be.

It's so refreshing to see a true leader who advocates peace and love-- and means it. I'm so happy to see America slowly begin to win back the trust and respect of our neighbors throughout the world. I've spent 4.5 of the past 8 years outside of America in China, Australia, and South America and I've heard all the complaints about American government and moral hypocrisy. So it makes me so happy now to hear all my Taiwanese friends and other foreigners from around the world in Taipei express their excitement for America. I've always loved America, but it feels good to see the global community share in that love again.

The picture above is of Barack and Michelle Obama last night at the Youth Ball which I also watched online at CNN.com Live. It's so cool to see so many Americans my age taking an active role in shaping the future of our nation. I loved hearing Obama speak to them--I wish I was as collected a speaker as he is. And watching Barack and Michelle slow dance was one of the cutest things ever. I've loved Michelle ever since seeing her bust a move on the Ellen Degeneres show : )

It's hard to describe all that I feel about this moment in history, but the words joy, gratitude, and hope come to mind. More and more, Barack Obama is becoming a personal hero to me, and I think that many of you probably feel the same way. It's nice to have somebody to look up to and admire. I believe we all have something unique to offer to the world and it's inspiring to watch somebody answer their personal call and take their place in history. In doing so they give us permission and an invitation to do the same.

Just wanted to share this moment in history with you.

Love,
Benji

Let the blogging begin!

Ok, since I live literally half the world away from my family and most of my friends I've decided it's time for me to start another blog to appease their constant requests for updates on my life. I have no idea if any of them will actually read this blog, but at least they can't say now that I haven't tried.

My blog site's name however, as you'll notice, is Benji's World because more than just updates on my daily activities I hope to explore here the inner workings of my crazy mind. In a self-reflective, if not sometimes self-indulgent, exploration I hope to delve into and share the different thoughts, feelings, and experiences that make up the world I live in and the world I am creating. The past 2.5 years I've spent here in Asia have been such formative ones for me in so many ways. The books I've read, TV shows I've been on, music I've practiced, songs I've written, movies I've watched, people I've met--all these various aspects of my life have played such a big part in making me what and who I am today.

One such experience was having my friend Beth in Shanghai do a hand analysis for me over a year ago. First of all, I'd like to clarify that it was not a palm reading--there were no crystal balls or phony predictions of the future--it was a hand analysis based on a scientific method that she studied for 4 years that helps give insight into your personality, your potentialities, as well as your "life mission" and "life lesson". My finger prints show that my life mission is to be "the messenger", meaning that if there is ever a message that I know--I want to share it. On the surface level, if there is a cool party coming up I want to make sure everyone knows about it, if there is a delicious new restaurant I want everyone to have a chance to try it. I'm a shameless and enthusiastic promoter. On a deeper level, I feel that I have been learning so many life lessons through these experiences and books and I want to share them with whoever is willing to listen.

You might be wondering what my "life lesson" is now that I've already told you my life mission. It's very simple--Peace. My lesson in life is to learn to balance all the various aspects of my life so I can feel peace and be at peace, so I can be comfortable in my own skin and with who I am. This has been my journey and this is what I hope to share with each of you.

There will be a lot more to come in the near future. I'm excited to share my world with you.

Lots of love,
Benji