Morning Meditation At Chithurst
You will not be surprised to learn that
it is generally very quiet in a monastery, but this does have the
effect of amplifying every single careless door slam or unmindfully
loud conversations that seem to grate more intensely in such a
peaceful setting. The aura of Cittaviveka does lead one to be more
careful and quiet but it is easy to forget oneself at times, the
Buddha taught us to constantly practice awareness not just in the
meditation hall but in all we do. Walk in meditation, wash up in meditation and
observe constantly the flux, within and without.
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| The meditation Hall at Cittaviveka |
Rude Awakenings
The tapping on the brass bell in the
hallway although intense, began quietly and crescendoed to a sleep
depriving tone, the vibration of which filled my head and I awoke to the
pre-dawn darkness. It was 4am. For all my faults I do always give
everything I've got to what I'm doing and was determined to make the
most of this opportunity; although it's not a rule at Citteviveka to
attend the morning chanting and meditation, it is encouraged to live
as the monks do, as much as possible. I was exited anyway and really
looking forward to meditating with the pro's. It would be fair to say
that if I was into football this would be the equivalent of having a
kick about with the Chelsea team. I donned my kit, a Sports Direct
track suit with a large monk like hood, my trusty old Indian blanket
and a pair of fake crocs. In haste I neglected to wash, or brush my
teeth and made my way to the meditation hall. First along the dark
corridor and down the stairs, passed the brass prostrate Buddha who
smiled serenely at me tiptoeing over the creaky boards towards the
aromatic vestibule. I ventured out into the early dawn crunching
along the gravel drive through crisp cold air, the stars still
twinkling above. The birds weren't even awake as I put my hand to the
door of the beautiful meditation hall. The interior was dimly lit and
impeccably clean, I selected a mat and cushion then made my way
through the frosted glass doors into the hall, I was the first to
arrive and had time to quietly take it all in.
At the opposite end of the hall was a
beautifully lit Buddha statue surrounded with fresh flowers, it had
been hewn delicately from white stone and was roughly 2 meters high
in the sitting position. I felt an atmosphere of benevolence that
years of sincere and focused practice had invoked. The building was
of strong traditional oak construction, the ceilings rose high above
me with all the rafters and beams exposed. The east wall consisted
mainly of glass, with high windows and seperate doors for the monks
to enter in by, I could see their cushions and mats in a line
flanking the west wall in front of the Buddha. Faced with this large
clear floor the question arose in me as to where I should sit.
Normally I would situate myself somewhere out of the way and
inconspicuous but that morning I chose to get up close to the statue
and near the monks, I wanted to be near them and meditate with them,
be part of it and not just observe, so I took courage. I placed my
mat right in front of the Buddha, sat down and began to meditate.
Gradually the sounds of people began to appear, doors opening and
closing, mats being placed, knees cracking, feet shuffling, robes
rustling. I resisted the temptation to peak and continued to
practice. After a short while the chanting began, I remained still
and let the sounds of the ancients engulf me, the light of the
candles flickered through my eyelids and I began the practice of
sweeping through my body, observing the sensations that arose. I felt
that I could have been in any monastery at any point in history.
After about an hour the monks ceased chanting and began to meditate,
we would continue until 7:30, after which the monks quietly shuffled
out and I was to report to the work monk to be allocated my duties
for the day. I walked out slowly and mindfully, it was now light and
the birds were singing gleefully.
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