When the plane began to descend on Heathrow I was wondering how I should explain to the immigration officer the purpose of my trip to the UK. Would he feel it strange that a Chinese living in Hong Kong should have come to the UK for a Chan retreat? Would he be suspicious of my words?
For several years I have been looking for an opportunity to receive authentic training in Chan meditation which I have not been able to find in Hong Kong. Some years ago I wrote to Shifu's Chan Centre in Taiwan to ask for permission to join one of their seven day Chan retreats. They promptly replied that they had stopped admitting people from outside Taiwan because the retreats were always over subscribed by local people. They advised me to try Shifu's Chan Centre in New York. I wrote to New York and received a programme and an application form but, for various reasons, I was rather apprehensive of attending a retreat there.
The news that my old friend, John, had been authorized by Shifu to conduct Chan retreats in England made me feel quite sure that I would one day attend his Chan retreat. But events moved faster than I had expected and before I realised it I was already at Maenllwyd, all set to "hit a Chan Seven," which is a Chinese way of saying attending a seven day Chan retreat.
All the effort I took to get to Maenllwyd for Chan reminded me of an incident thirty years ago. I was then studying in London. One day I went to a camping equipment exhibition and spotted a metal mess-kit which was good and cheap but never seen in Hong Kong. I took the trouble to order a set and after days of waiting it eventually arrived by post. I opened the package only to discover that the contents were made in Hong Kong!
I started the retreat without any apprehension. John and I know each other well. I knew I was in good hands. He would be sympathetic, understanding and would not let me suffer too much. I was not a stranger to Maenllwyd either, having attended a Western Zen retreat there a few years ago. Despite all this, the first four days were full of struggles, frustration and suffering. The change of climate and time zone made me very sleepy during the sittings. The struggle to keep awake and the pain in the legs and the back made concentration impossible in spite of my persistent efforts. The crisis came on the second day. I became quite cynical and everything looked ridiculous.
Then I remembered one of Shifu's lectures which I had read He says that when one is captured by the pirates, the only way to survive is to join them. I was captured at Maenllwyd for another five days. What else could I do other than continue the retreat and make the best of it?
I had two interviews with John during the first four days. He was very understanding, sympathetic and flexible and above all infected me with optimism. He allowed me to skip some sessions in order to have some more sleep. But these concessions did not improve my condition. Both the sleepiness and the pains did not go away.
On the fourth day, by sheer effort I experienced a momentary sensation of concentration and good sitting but this did not repeat for the rest of the day. On the fifth day I was getting more desperate and determined to overcome the odds. Despite John's suggestion that I should use a stool I stuck to the orthodox method of sitting. I felt it was a posture that gave a sense of dignity and greater satisfaction. But a small incident triggered off a series of changes.
During one early afternoon session, sitting took place in the open field - to gaze at the scenery. The sky was bright but the wind was quite strong. I chose the stony ground behind the two big oak trees to shelter from the wind. As the ground was uneven I had to sit on a stool. Towards the end of the session I experienced a moment of stillness, first with respect to the scenery and then in relation to the body. I reported this to John and suggested using the stool for indoor sitting. He agreed.
Sitting on the stool was much more comfortable and the pains did not return though the sleepiness did not go away. I sat with my eyes wide open as I had done in the open field. Towards the end of the session I began to experience a form of stillness. But this was soon interrupted by the sound of the bell which signalled the end of the session. Remembering John's previous advice of the importance to "keep the one", I managed without effort to maintain the stillness of the mind while listening to his brief for the following session which was a forty five minute walking meditation in the hills around. During the whole walk I could easily maintain concentration and stillness of the mind by repeating silently the counting from one to ten. I was surprised at my ability to concentrate on the counting exercise. Never before had I been able to continue counting for forty five minutes without any interruptions by strayed thoughts.
I began the following sitting with a clear and quiet mind without worry of pain or sleepiness. I started counting my breath slowly. After about a minute, I felt the heart beat louder than the breath. I had to stop counting the breath and let the heart beating take over. Gradually I lost the sensation of the hands and the feet - only a feeling of warmth at these extremities was present. I felt pleasantly surprised and increased my concentration. A surge of energy followed. I was very alert and all the tiredness was gone. The blood vessels on both sides of the neck joined the heart beat, then the back of the skull, and finally both arms and legs. The whole body was now beating like the double base in an orchestra while the mind was fully aware of the surroundings and the thoughts which came and went without interrupting the awareness. Occasionally, there was the feeling that the wall, the stool and the floor were beating in the same rhythm with the body. The noises and the movements of people during the recess did not disturb me at all. I had an exciting feeling throughout the long sitting and the sensation that the body rhythm was faster than the breathing.
When I finished the sitting I immediately reported to John and checked with him whether that was normal. He confirmed that it was normal and encouraged me to continue. He said it was the Chi which had raised the energy. I had often heard stories about meditators becoming crazy because of deviation. This the Chinese call " the fire goes out and the devil comes in".
With reinforced confidence, I started the evening session. As soon as I sat down the same bodily rhythm appeared and the sitting was immediately shifted to automatic gear and continued straight through the second session without a break. Half way through the second session the breathing sensation returned and replaced the heart beat sensation. There was a feeling of softness, quietness, calmness, brightness and the horizon seemed to open wider. I reported this discovery to John and this time I was calmer. John said it looked like a form of "silent illumination" which appeared to be a suitable method for me.
Driven by self-confidence and curiosity, I spent the remaining few sessions of the retreat experimenting. For example, I tried to direct the movement of Chi, sometimes with success but often not. I also tried to hold the Chi in the dan tien which the Taoist advocates, but this effort disrupted the body rhythm. These experiments often spoilt a session. I eventually realised that it was a risky indulgence and returned to the natural sitting; just allowing the body to take over, as Shifu says in one of his lectures.
I stayed behind at Maenllwyd for another night after the retreat had ended. I sat with John for an hour in the evening, practicing naturally. The result was good. Nevertheless, I was somehow not completely satisfied with sitting on a stool even though this had achieved good results. It was simply not proper zazen to me. The following morning I awoke at 4.00am as usual and tried out sitting on the floor. I sat for two 40 minute sessions with a short break in between. The result was good. Other than some mild pain in the right leg which did not disturb me, the rest was similar to sitting on a stool.
I cherish no illusion that it will be plain sailing from now on. I anticipate more obstacles ahead but I am determined to continue the practice, not on the stool but on the floor. I won't be satisfied until I can sit in the half lotus position.
I have learned a lot from the retreat, most of which was quite unexpected. I learned that facing the wall with my eyes open helps my concentration. I have experienced the application of the theory that although there is no fixed method to meditation and Chan flexibility is necessary, self indulgence is dangerous in Chan practice. The guidance of a qualified teacher is essential. I believe I have been promoted from an armchair Chan student to that of a practitioner.
Finally I am most grateful to my friend and teacher, John, for making this pleasant and important experience possible. I am also grateful to Shifu for his lectures which I have read and found helpful during the retreat. I cannot close this report without thanking Caroline and Hilary for making my trip from Bristol to Maenllwyd possible, and Simon for providing me with the ginger tea for each meal to keep my stomach in balance.
