I arrived at Maenllwyd with a willingness to open to the fullness of my experience, and to be present with that which I regarded as difficult or challenging. I had already been deeply touched by my travelling companions generosity and thoughtfulness regarding our travel arrangements, and my heart was warm and open as we drove through the gates that lead us along the track towards Maenllwyd.
Upon meeting Simon my first question to him was 'where are the toilets?' Having had an upset stomach and anticipating diarrhoea, I noticed my mind anxiously trying to plan how, in the space of 15 minutes from 5.00 - 5.15am, I was going to get up, get dressed and co-ordinate my bowel movements along with the needs of 17 other yogis, within the time frame of the morning schedule. After expressing the concern to Simon and remembering that this was not actually a matter of life or death, I was able to let go a little of 'me & my anxiety', and open to the riches that were right in front of me.
I do not think I can describe the depth of the beauty and simplicity of Maenllwyd, yet I want to try. I felt I had returned home, despite never having visited the place before. There is an indefinable magic that exists in each and every minute particle that makes up its totality; in the scarred and twisted timbers, the yellow petals of the poppies, the sound of striking stones, and the timeless safety of the Dharma. At the end of our first meal Simon explained the ritual of washing our cutlery & crockery; as I observed and took part in this process I experienced the ritual as a creative performance, we were simultaneously artists and audience, harmonies arose from the contact between bowl, spoon, water and hand, and I was reminded of scenes from the films of Peter Greenaway and Derek Jarman, and of lines of poetry from Mary Oliver, when they managed to bring into form the essence of our creative spirit.
As I sit here writing and reflecting on my experience, my sense is of the existence of parallel universes, the sacred and the mundane. Each existing simultaneously, but what you experience, what you are let in to, or what you let yourself in to, depend on something that I cannot clearly define. What I, and perhaps all of us who were present entered into, felt like a timeless, sacred mystery. For a brief moment I saw myself on the outside, looking onto this world, to a time a place that I thought I didn't belong to, and that I shouldn't have seen, and from where I would be told to leave, and to forget all that I had seen and heard. But this didn't happen, I was part of this, and like all of us, l possibly always had been, but had just never known it before.
As the days and nights of the retreat passed, my trust and faith in the Buddha, Dharma, Sangha grew, and with wise guidance the striving of the ego was releasing. I bathed in the joy of surrendering to the fear, to the shame and to the guilt that had separated me for so long from the fullness of myself, I had never known or loved myself more fully, I had never felt so radiant and so empty. A little later I notice how joy and happiness could manifest as conceit and pride, and how it is possible for the sense of self to begin to manifest from even the most self-less of experiences, The need for mindfulness is endless, and the opportunities for letting go are abundant. I am reminded of one of the lines from the Heart Sutra,
Form is empty; emptiness is form.
Emptiness is not other than form, and form is not other than emptiness.
I puzzle over how is it possible to embrace it all, without attaching to anything?
Something was deeply healed in me during this retreat, I cannot yet name what it is, and I think perhaps that it does not need naming or quantifying. Whatever it is, I trust that it will continue to manifest in its many unpredictable forms, and that I will share the fruits of this practice with others, as and when it is appropriate.
I struggle to find a way to end this piece of writing that expresses my appreciation for the teachers, the teachings, and all that came together to enable me to go on this retreat, so I will end simply with thank you.