Retreat Reports: Koan (Gongan) Retreat

As a regular Zen meditation 'just sitting' sitter I was drawn to trying a Koan retreat as historically working with a Koan has been a complementary practise. I didn't really know what to expect but imagined it would be some kind of mental 'short circuiting' of the left-brain rational mind.

What actually happened was a much more embodied intuitive process that unfolded across the week. The Koan…

The first week after coming back from retreat I finally rinsed the wash basin in the bathroom. For several months it waited for me to do it. I almost throw up by rinsing away hair and old grease clogging the pipe. However it was ok and not as difficult as I had visualised. 

This was my first koan retreat and I think the koan was supposed to let us see aspects of ourselves we attach to and helping…

Planting a great oak at Shawbottom
and returning each year to say, “I did that”,
that would be something.
The sapling trees were ready in pots,
the spade resting against the shed.

I could only claim a short-lived success
weeding between the paving slabs.
About his many enlightenment experiences
Sawaki Roshi once said,
“they didn’t amount to a whole hill of beans”.

In my secret koan, ‘Tokusan’s Bowls’,
eg…

I have found it difficult to put into words the profound experience of confronting myself which the Investigating Koans retreat gave me. Your early morning short but very precise talks about the practice always answered some searching questions about what to pay attention to in terms of the practice. When, after the exercises, you asked the group encircled just outside the entrance to Gaia House…

The third week in March I participated in a 7-day silent Koan Retreat at Dharma Drum Retreat Center in upstate Pine Bush, New York. Seven days spent focusing on a short exchange between a head monk and a zen master written maybe a thousand years ago. 7 days of silence.

On the second day we were directed to pick the koan or huatou (basically the punch line of a koan, used commonly by Ch’an, the…

…Day two. Koan day. I eventually plumped for one that, rather arrogantly, I believed I could answer. Hah! Silliness. We sat, the Koan playing in my mind as I searched for an answer. After a few sessions, Simon brought in a communication exercise whereby each retreatant sits with another and takes it in turns to answer a question on their Koan. I was coupled with the most open and honest individual…

No internet, no phones - is Joy!
Practicing in silent harmony with others - is Joy!
The Mind becoming still with the passing days - is Joy!
Chopping Onions - is Joy! (and some tears)
Sweeping the kitchen floor - is Joy!
Sarah’s food - is Joy!
Tea and Cake at 4.15pm - is Joy!
No real coffee - is temporary suffering!
Discovering Earplugs - is Joy!
Knocking on the door of the cave of the heart, and finding it…

At the age of fifty-six I have found myself in an insecure and troubled place for many reasons: broken long-term relationship, empty coffers, career collapse and a recent bereavement. Chronic insomnia was placing my problems on the brink of mental illness, of hopelessness; my troubled mind shouting loudly all the time to come up with solutions and not succeeding. My mind was so chaotic, troubled…

Koan retreats with the Western Chan Fellowship have become a staple part of my dharma practice over the past few years since I have found a connection with this specific method. Coming to Wales for such retreats has become routine for me, and I had no expectations on booking it or on arrival.

One day into the retreat it became clear that my practice was very different to previous retreats. On…

As I write this, two days after my return, I am fine tuned. My heart is brilliant, clear and unobstructed. Someone throws a ball for a dog, which charges across the park, a furry blur of mad energy with scampering legs, and I laugh out loud. The sky has a glow which takes your breath away. I respond to these things with delight and amusement. I hear about the school massacre and weep without…

Two experiences come to mind from the retreat:

One morning as I walked outside the Chan hall, I observed 15 to 20 birds darting in and out of trees in unison as they flew up the hill. I felt a sudden jolt, like someone had thrust a knife into my heart. "Huh!" I gasped. But, it was not pain that I felt, it was pure, intense joy. I'm not exactly sure what happened but, in a way, I became those…

A monk said to the Master "The Buddhas of past present and future don't understand. Cats and oxen do. Why don't the Buddhas understand?" Master Nanquan replied, "Before they entered the Deer Park they knew it. "The monk said, "How is it that cats and oxen do know it?" "How could you doubt that they do?" responded Nanquan.

When I read the list of koans in this Koan retreat, I was intrigued by this…