Internal retreat....mmmmmm, sounds so relaxing. Sign me up! Meditation, contemplation, quiet, journaling, inspiration. Sounds like just what I need near the end of a long school year!
Friday night is just perfect. We arrive at the Capuchin Retreat Center, easing into our weekend with a relaxed schedule of settling into our rooms and greeting our fellow martial artists. Around 8:00 pm, we begin our first session of the night, Sifu Brown diving right into a Q&A session, fearlessly addressing some of life’s most difficult and important questions about spiritual growth and development.
As always, his excellent answers are inspiring and moving. What a great start to the weekend! We all receive an assignment to work on throughout our time on retreat, or beyond if needed. Time for a snack and some sleep.
After having a difficult time falling asleep, I am roused from my fitful slumber by the sounds of a Tibetan singing bowl. Very groggy and befuddled, I stumble out of bed as a knock comes at my door. The bowl is clearly meant to summon us all to our outdoor meeting area near the fountain, but it's the middle of the night, isn't it???
Wait...what???? What is going on? There must be some sort of emergency! Fire is the first thing that goes through my head...should I run out immediately, which would mean bralessly greeting my fellow retreaters in my scanty pajamas? No, no, no, I can’t do that! If it were fire, they would yell, “Fire!”, right? My brain fog is finally lifting, a bit. I peek out the window. Darkness. It can’t be the morning summons, then. Must be something Sifu dreamed up for us! Now I’m irritated (not a morning person), but intrigued. I quickly get dressed, skip the hair, potty, and toothbrushing. I saunter down the hall disoriented, stumbling slightly in my stupor, hoping others have neglected their appearance as much as I have! (I’m not sure whether I’ve conquered my ego by not taming my wild hair or lost the battle because I’m worried about it).
I arrive at the meeting place. The fountain is gurgling, the stars and moon are shining, the wind blows, and about 25 bodies are standing there looking dumbfounded. There seems to be a cranky vibe, but that could just be me projecting!
Sifu leads us in warming up our bodies. Arm circles, stretches, bends, dear God what are we preparing to do??? I feel almost drunk, I’m so tired! I can’t imagine being coordinated enough to pull off any form, Tai Chi, Qigong, Kung Fu, Yoga...and then we get the news.
Rocks. We’re moving rocks. A big pile of big rocks. Many rocks. We’re going to move them. All the rocks. OK, we’re going to move them...maybe 30 feet? Perhaps the length of a backyard?
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| (Not actual rocks from our pile...ours were bigger and dirtier!) |
As we walk closer to the pile of rocks, I see the line of tiki torches stretching across the property. I never measured it out in paces, but let me just say it’s a long way. We’re hauling this big pile of rocks a long, long way. That is, at 4 am, it seemed like an expanse which would take us a very long time, especially given our collective state of UNenthusiasm. (Again, I’m projecting, imagining others felt as timid about completing the task as I did).
Sifu has periodically told the parable of moving rocks, reminding us of it again the previous night in our session:
There was a man who wanted very badly to study with a particular martial arts master. The master told the man ok, but he had to move a pile of rocks at 4 am every day, without fail. No matter the challenges and circumstances, the student had to rise every morning and move those rocks from A to B, and the next morning from B back to A.
The student at first thought, “Sure! I can do this!” but as you can imagine, one is quick to grow weary from such a task. Day in and day out, moving the rocks was not always as easy as it once had been. One morning, he may have been out very late the night before, another morning it may be raining, more than once he became ill, and then winter came, adding additional challenges. Yet the instruction was to move them every day, no excuses.
Although it was incredibly hard for him, the student went two years without missing a single day. He approached the teacher at this point with a smidgen of frustration, saying, “Master, it’s been two years, and I’ve moved the rocks from here to there, and there to here, every day at 4 am, without fail! I’ve battled sickness and weather, fatigue and frustration, all for nothing! What has it accomplished, what have I learned???” The master answers him simply, “Oh, you have learned SO much....”
So here we are, in our first hours of internal retreat weekend, moving through the darkness under the mixed lighting of the moon, stars, and tiki torches, toward our pile of rocks. One by one, we choose our first rock to carry. There are a variety of sizes--I choose one that doesn’t look too intimidating. One that perhaps offers balance between the too-small rock which will make me look wimpy and weak and the too-big rock which will make me look like I’m showing off and perhaps even challenge me too much. My rock and I begin our journey in silence, trying to be reverent. This is supposed to be a walking meditation, but I’m having a hard time finding my zen and my footing in the dark. There are depressions in the terrain, tree roots, sticks, inclines and declines. I’m sometimes walking under trees and feeling things land on me, brush my head, or I'm breaking through web-like strands. It’s hard to find a meditative place in my mind with so much to process. Factor in the worry that I’m going to struggle crossing the distance with the size of rock I chose, and....hey, as a matter of fact, this rock is getting pretty heavy! I need to carry it a different way. I shift it to my hip, like I would carry a small child. That eventually gets uncomfortable too, as different muscles feel fatigue. I try carrying my rock like a serving tray. That’s not working longterm, either. Are other people struggling with figuring out this carrying/walking scenario? Or are they happily striding in blissful mindfulness? I definitely have a long way to go.
I press on. I now can see where we are going, the end is in sight! We are laying the rocks at the feet of Jesus! Ah, it’s very beautiful.
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| Thanks to www.ioftheneedle.com for this image of Inspiration Island |
A life-sized crucifixion of Jesus sits on what I later find out is called "Inspiration Island." He is nearly surrounded by a pond complete with fountain and is lit with floodlights. Our path takes us across a quaint bridge. From there it’s just a short uphill climb to place our rocks at his feet. My heart feels some peace and a little joy. A little joy is pretty good for me at 4 am!
I begin my journey back. As I turn around, from the higher vantage point of the small hill I’m on, I can see shadows moving in the night. My comrades silently carrying out their task. I feel a sense of oneness with them as we work together to move our pile of rocks. I wonder how long it will take us? How many trips will we make?
I guess it takes us about 20 minutes to move the rocks, but truly have no idea since none of us have timepieces. If I’m right, it was perhaps roughly a mile total we walked, half of this mile spent carrying a rock. I can’t keep myself from doing the estimations in my head.
As the last rocks are placed at Jesus’s feet, we start to gather a short distance away where we can gaze at the crucifixion, still under the light of moon and stars, enhanced by the floodlighting. The already poignant image is even more contemplative with the new pile of rocks added to it, and I’m sure we all have metaphorical thoughts as we ponder the scene.
Sifu gives the command to sit comfortably and close our eyes. We meditate.
Thankfully, we are allowed to then go back to bed, and we’ll see each other at breakfast. I wonder if we’ll also get up at 4 am the following morning to move the rocks again, like the student in the parable. Boy, I’m glad we’re only staying two nights, because I really wouldn’t want to move those rocks more than twice!
Later that morning, our first session is after breakfast and begins with Sifu discussing the rock exercise of hours ago. He explains that he really wanted to rouse us with a gong, but was convinced not to because it would be too jarring! I silently thank the kind soul who advised him so! Sifu goes on to explain that for the rest of the weekend, when we hear the gong, "It’s time to move the rocks!" Then you know what he does? Yes. He does. He strikes that gong! It’s time to move the rocks again.
“Oh!” I think, “I guess he’s not waiting until 4 am to have us move the rocks back!” I start to panic a wee little bit...how many times are we going to move the rocks this weekend?
