Vipassana Vault: Day 5
Context
After more than a week spent mulling over the experience, losing the plot at times, forgetting everything I learned and felt, and being swept back up into the real world, I finally have set aside time to reflect—in writing—upon my 10-day Vipassana retreat in Kyoto, Japan. I tried my best to keep a mind palace throughout the ten silent days (plus the two additional days as well). Mercifully, I dumped everything into a series of voice memos on the train back to Ōsaka, which has allowed me to let go a little bit over the past week, knowing that my in-the-moment thoughts are there to return to.
In short, a mind palace refers to the mnemonic technique of mentally placing information in specific locations along a familiar route or space. For me, I chose my bedroom growing up, with each day being allocated a particular section within it. To recall the information, you simply take a mental walk through that space and pick up what you left there. It leverages the strong spatial and visual memory of the brain to encode otherwise abstract or hard-to-remember information. I tried my best to make up little stories and objects scenes that would stick in my mind more easily.
Hence, I’d originally titled this series Inside the Mind Palace of a Mad Man, but that felt too complicated in hindsight, and kind of misses the major detail about these reflections in that they relate to a Vipassana course. So, the Vipassana Vault it is instead.
Over the next ten days, I’ll share my Vipassana adventure with you through this mind palace lens, hopefully offering a light-hearted spin on the whole journey and using it as a gateway to dive deeper into what I felt. Ultimately, this is both an exercise for myself in aiding my own digestion and processing of the retreat, but also a medium to share everything I experienced with others.
I should clarify: each day from one to nine was essentially the exact same, in terms of schedule. You can hopefully find a simple snapshot here. Whilst the minutiae of how I exactly used these chunks of time varied from day to day, the overall gist was unchanged. These mind palace reflections, therefore, intend to highlight mainly just the moments or thoughts that stood out to me, rather than attempting to capture every detail in a running commentary fashion.
Day 5
It’s been a little while. I feel I took the leisurely pace and comfort with which I travelled Japan for granted. Now that I’m on the move more frequently, the consistency of my writing has dropped off. Just a lot of background logistics you forget about. Anyway, we’re back. This transmission comes from a plane bound for Beijing. Time flies. We’re already in April.
Song of the Day
The Greatest by Billie Eilish
An interesting selection from today. Very much a recent song, of a different flavour to others so far. I really enjoy it. Did I actually feel the greatest on Day 5? Not necessarily. But it certainly was far from my worst day. I felt I’d started to figure a few things out.
The juxtaposition of consecutive lines “Man, am I the greatest? God, I hate this” rang out over and over. Despite finally feeling like I was getting the hang of things, it still sucked. I also think this song brought with it longing for recent good times. It had been almost precisely a year to the day when I actually saw Billie live with my girlfriend. It was our first concert together and a really magical night. I didn’t put together that specific timing in the moment, but perhaps my subconscious did.
Day 5 was quite important. For the first time, I saw a deeper layer of understanding emerge. I could feel where wisdom and insight was capable of arising from as a result of this practice. It was still difficult, but I felt more invested.
I also learned the value of several tools. The most tangible of which was merino wool. In some ways, I was lucky it was cold. Otherwise I wouldn’t have felt comfortable wearing the double layer of merino wool socks I donned from this day onwards in the meditation hall. I know that, through the meditation practice, you should be able to improve your ability to objectively sit with and observe your pain, without needing to change it. Yet, there is a middle ground, I’d argue. You can be kind to yourself. Make things easier to aid your ability to practice properly. It is such a small change, but it made a real difference and assisted me in fostering the ability to withstand full-length sits. Training wheels are useful.
Another related tool, I suppose, presents itself in the form of a group hug and a smile. Being more forgiving of yourself goes a long way. Rather than becoming frustrated when my mind would inevitably wander, I made an effort to thank it for trying to help, and physically—externally—smiling. Perhaps my descent towards insanity began around this time. I’m okay with that. I found it extraordinary how just bringing a smile improved my outlook. You can absolutely alter your mental state by starting with concrete, physical actions. Equally, visually a sort of group hug with loved ones had an impact, too. Again, it sounds like I lost the plot, but imagining family members reaching out to me, giving me strength, or letting me know that they were proud really made a difference.
It goes outside the bounds of the specific Vipassana technique, but I introduce a related habit to start each sit that helped me find clear headspace. I would envisioned pulling something of a magnet up my body as I inhaled, drawing out all of the tension and stress I’d be holding. Once more—crazy person, I know. Then, I would pause at the top of the breath, allow the magnet to release, and then visualise all that stored tension slowly floating out to sea on a raft, alongside a smile and a quiet exhale. That imagery just popped into my head once and I stuck with it. I found it grounding, and a useful ritual for preparing myself.
Tying into all of these observations and strange visualisations was the vision, and realisation, that everything is ultimately connected. At the end of the day, if our physical structure simply comprises of various cells and vibrating particles therein, the entire world around us is nothing but a web of subtly moving particles. Very abstract, of course, but you can trace a line through space from yourself to any other person around you via the cells in your body that are in contact with the seat below you. The particles that make up your chair press up against those in the floor, which links to a neighbouring chair, another person, and so on. The web of particles never ends. Maybe. Or perhaps I’m a little crazy, with enough physics knowledge to be dangerous, but not necessarily correct.
Anyway, impactful day, this one. Still had moments, for sure, but was a step in the right direction, if there is such a thing.
