Within our DTO community there has been the unexpressed need for an opportunity to practice together in a setting with fewer distractions, with enough time to let our mind run itself out and become quiet. It is at such moments that our original mind is no longer shrouded by the words, thoughts, feelings, and concepts that seem to form the ‘I’ that we think we are.
Last winter Teo expressed that need by suggesting that the DTO add a third retreat to its normal annual schedule. Now expressed, the seed grew, and culminated in a group of us meeting on the third weekend in September, 2021 at The Center at Mariandale in Ossining New York for the first DTO Silent Retreat.
A feeling of sacredness permeates some spaces – openness, calm, and beauty are all present together and merge with the same qualities in each of us. This was the feeling that I had upon arriving at Mariandale and it grew as the weekend progressed. The main building is set back about a third of the mile from the road and that distance is mostly open, lightly maintained grounds, adjoining semi-wild grounds filled with life. There is the sound of geese descending to a field, faint traffic noise from the highway, ducks quacking on the Hudson River, and a commuter train rumbling past. This is a place where people live, but it is done in an easy balance with the natural world.
For a silent retreat it started not so silent. We gathered overlooking the river and enjoyed the pleasure of being in the physical presence of one another. Virtual reality enables many things, but it is a poor substitute for the real thing. Due to injury, illness, and the unpredictability of life, several of our friends who intended to join us were unable to. They were missed and we dedicate merit from this weekend to them. That left six of us: Teo, mokugyo artist and the spark that lit this candle; Maeve, our graceful bell master and the designer of our thoughtful schedule; Fernando, our anchor and guide; Phap Lan, our other Laughing Monk; Bobbie, our weird (and wonderful) dharma sister; and me, the self-appointed chronicler.
The rhythm for the weekend was, in varying sequences, practice, eat, free time. Most of our time was scheduled, but some things arose organically, such as our post-meal seated meditations (which spread to all of the others in the dining hall as well), and our evening appreciation of the near-full Harvest Moon. Other activities included a half hour of gentle but thorough yoga, a long walking meditation through the Mariandale grounds, and a thoughtful Dharma Talk by Fernando who shared why he came to this retreat. I can’t do full justice to his talk, but the deciding reason was because he needed it. He needed to extend to himself the same compassion that he offers others.
After we ended our silence on Sunday, we had a few hours to share our experiences. Was a weekend enough time to justify the effort to organize and attend? The unanimous response was that it was. We sat a lot this weekend and, on occasion for me, time simply was no longer there. Forty eight hours wasn’t a lot of time, but it was enough time. We also agreed that, as evidenced by this weekend, retreats don’t need to have a lot of participants to be worthwhile. In fact our small size probably helped increase the sense of intimacy we all felt. Another discussion topic was “What’s the future for this type of retreat?” We all agreed that silent retreats should continue to be part of our national activities, and that it is worth considering having two such retreats per year.
With gratitude and metta,
Craig
A recollectionSunday morning, just before 6, Bobbie and I softly walk down the hall toward the outline of the Wellspring Room’s door. We enter the darkness and navigate by memory to our cushions. The room is filled with cool night air, the sounds of crickets and katydids, and the imagined remnants of incense. After a moment, I rise and move to the altar where I pause as the distinction between me and other fades. The match flares and the warm glow of the candles changes the altar into a window into itself. I move with awareness devoid of thought, back to my cushion. A moment later the rest of our family joins us, making the room now complete.
The bell is invited…..
There are a few photos at this link.