On the first day of 2022, the sun rose into a cloudless sky, emerging from star-studded darkness and quiet. With my partner, Mike, I rang in the new year silently, savoring the last hours of a self-directed 10-day meditation retreat at our farm homestead. Outside, the garden chimes jingled in the cold morning wind. The quiet was ringing inside my body, an outgrowth of this time we set aside to meditate.
There is no way we would have attempted to do a home meditation retreat without having experienced a formal one. Two years ago, we began the new year at a Vipassana retreat center in Joshua Tree. It was extremely challenging—both mentally and physically. Sitting for 10 hours a day summoned pains from old injuries and places I held stress in my body. A host of negative reactions from fear and doubt, to anger and frustration, arose. The mental state in which I arrived was akin to a bucking, unbroken horse saddled with untamed thoughts. Chief among them was planning and excitement about this new farm and homestead we were in the process of buying.
I asked the teacher how to manage the thoughts. She looked at me with clear eyes and said, “Your mind is like a TV—it’s a distraction. Any time spent here giving those thoughts your attention will be wasted. When this is over, you will be so clear. Keep working.”
My mind, my thoughts were exactly like a TV! It felt like being in a restaurant with someone you really want to talk to, yet your attention keeps getting pulled away to the screen behind them. As a result, you are less present with the person and the conversation and you gained nothing from the TV.
At the Vipassana center, they removed most distractions, namely cell phones; even scented products were prohibited. Men and women were separated at all times. The rooms were undecorated and books and journals were not allowed. There were agreed-upon rules and a set schedule. Only my mind remained (and the plants growing along the center walking paths) as a distraction from the instructions, which were to sit and follow the breath and sensation in the body. As I stayed present with the breath, I noticed how these elements arise and pass, and how this is the inherent state of change at play in the universe. I clicked off the thought channels, “smilingly” as our teacher instructed, each time my mind wandered away. By the eighth day, they came less frequently and a sense of calm entered my body. On a walk between sittings, it dawned on me that I did not have to do it all! I could leave my job, and make a livelihood from my new farm. I left the retreat center with my mind clearer than ever.
When I re-entered the stream of daily life it was difficult to maintain clarity and attention to mindfulness. Quickly old habits returned. The home retreat came with its own set of challenges that are presented in daily life. Remembering the clarity I felt after our first retreat, I was motivated to concentrate so I could direct my energy toward the vision for our farm and my business. How can our flowers and gardens serve the highest purpose of beauty, joy and healing?
Mike and I did our best to remove distractions, create a firm schedule and simplify our meals. Still, the home environment was full of distracting objects and the farm was full of unfinished tasks that loomed in front of me.
Many areas are still being developed, so during walking meditation, instead of focusing on placing my feet, I was designing a perennial garden. Fortunately, stormy, cold winter weather conspired in our favor, which made it easier to focus inward and let go of the gardens and plants. They too are resting in dormancy.
For me, the home environment (and my workplace) became the perfect place to notice distractions when they arose. I resisted the urge to adjust a crooked painting on the wall. I noticed how books I’ve had for years suddenly called out for me to read them. I turned away from the snack shelf over and over. As the days wore on, I noticed how mindfulness extended beyond walking and sitting meditations. Each activity was infused with mindful attention—standing up, sitting down, putting on clothes, even washing the dishes! I noticed the joy of savoring the glow of candlelight in the morning darkness and the pleasant sensations in my body as I stretched into wakefulness with yoga. I savored the first cup of coffee; the warmth of the cup in my hands and the potent aroma from the first sip to the last, while I slowly chewed my toast.
It was interesting to notice the contrast in the quality of my attention on everyday tasks. I realized that most mornings I gulp the last sips of coffee and shove toast in my mouth as I stand in the kitchen before rushing outside to do something deemed important. I become frustrated when I can’t get my clothes on fast enough and untangling the twine that supports plants erupts into a frenzy of hurried frustration while I swear under my breath at the plants, twine and even myself.
It is powerful to continue the mediation practice and see how mindful awareness shapes our environment and our interactions in daily life. What are the simple things that bring about joy, well-being and creativity? How can we cultivate those aspects of life? As we emerge into the rushing, distracting world I hope to maintain the practice of loving, mindful attention and watching how this grows on our farm and beyond.
