Cultivating Curiosity

A week ago I returned from a one-week vision quest into the Swedish wilderness. It took me some time to fully let the experience sink in, but now looking back at it I can honestly say it was a turning point in my life.

Lost Compass

When I received the invitation, I signed up without hesitation, more than a little inspired by Into the Wild. I felt I needed to get away from it all to rediscover who I truly was.

Closer to the event I felt like I was fumbling in the dark, having lost the inner compass that guides my way in the tough decisions in life. My career was at a crossroads, yet I had no idea what my heart was calling me to do. So I set forth…

Windswept Mountains

After almost 20 hours of travel by plane, bus, and train, I met with the other participants at the Vålådalen nature reserve. Our base lay by a serene mountain lake, flanked by ancient fells on all sides. And there we got acquainted with the practicalities of the vision quest as well as with methods of awakening our intuition and getting closer to nature, as we spent the first day and a half settling down to a calmer pace of life.

On the second day we packed up our tents and headed off through the marshland and forest, through increasingly steeper terrain until we finally found ourselves above the timberline. We ceremoniously parted ways, listening to our hearts and senses for where we were each called to spend the three-day solo period of the vision quest.

I found my spot in a miniature valley flanked by two ridges and split by a clear mountain stream. I set up my tent and soon found myself fogged in as the clouds gathered all around. The uniform cloud wall further added to the isolation experienced by switching off our mobiles, leaving all distractions behind, and fasting. With the rain beating on my tiny tent and wind sweeping down the mountainside, I ended up spending most of the first day inside my tent, just relaxing into it.

Simple Feeling of Being

On the second morning the sun started peeking from behind the clouds and I ventured out from my shelter. As I enjoyed my time alone in nature and explored my surroundings, I noticed that the tumult within was calming down and my true voice was rising forth.

In a moment that seemed simultaneously both profound and mundane, I realized that my inner compass had never been broken or lost. I had simply shoved it aside and ignored its signals out of fear for the path it pointed towards. But in that moment of clarity, I also discovered the courage to follow my heart.

That evening the rain and clouds returned but I was no longer bothered by them. As I packed my tent the following morning, I spotted a white reindeer—supposedly a good omen—and met up with the rest of the participants in silence, with the wind still beating the rain against my face.

Painful Decisions

After a peaceful reentry and journey back home, I faced some sad decisions that my heart called me to make. I decided to quit my job by the end of August and, more painfully, to end my relationship with a wonderful woman.

Now that the pain has subsided and a calm clarity has taken its place, I’m certain that I’ve made the right choices. My heart is opening up to the world and I feel excited to be alive. And I believe with time the people I chose to part with will ultimately be better off.

At times living your truth may be a painful way to go but it is the only way we can go.

Yesterday I returned from a three-day meditation retreat held in Belgium. People asked me how it was and I was struggling to come up with any explanation going beyond mere descriptions of the venue and the activity of just sitting. This post is my attempt to convey some of what happened in the real arena of activity, in my mind.

A Word on the Technique

The retreat I attended was in the Vipassana tradition as taught by S.N. Goenka. The ten-day, donation-based introductory retreat is a great way to get started with meditation. Without getting too technical about it, the technique revolves around sitting still and simply observing whatever sensations arise on the body, be it gross pain, subtle vibrations, or anything in between.

Stabilizing Awareness

After the inevitable arrival logistics and introductions on a sunny afternoon in rural Belgium, we took our vows of silence, promising to refrain from any communication with our fellow meditators for the duration of the course. The next days became something of a blur as the 4 am morning bell flowed into the last sitting ending at 9pm. A total of 11 hours per day spent in intense concentration.

Initially my mind was abuzz with thoughts from work, from the Internet, hobbies, summer plans, and everything else. I turned my attention inwards and concentrated on the natural rising and falling of my abdomen. At first a few breaths on, then gone again, I slowly started to build the stability of my attention. Early afternoon on the first full day I was able to maintain fairly constant attention for 10 min.

A Staring Contest with Reality

For those ten minutes, it felt as if I was staring at reality. My aim was to penetrate through what I saw. For the remainder of the day, I entered a staring contest with reality. Time and again my attention would waver, but I kept at it, stubbornly refusing to turn away from the sensation of bare breath.

I had been on this territory before. I knew that if I were to pin down this sensation of breathing and study it closely, it would betray its true nature. And sure enough, as I went at it once more, I suddenly saw the breath vibrate, as if I was sobbing or shivering. But I was doing neither, nor was this experience my heartbeat.

My breath was even, yet I detected a vibration in the experience of the breath. This is what so many books have talked about; the ephemeral nature of our experience, arising and passing faster than we can usually notice. But meditation is not as usual.

Observing Body and Mind

Mid-way through the second day I was able to consistently detect these vibrations in my breath, on a couple of occasions culminating in a state where my mind was effortlessly absorbed into the observation of these vibrations. The closest everyday equivalent to this experience would perhaps be waking up rested and being in no hurry to move from bed; relaxed, yet alert.

The last sit of the second day I witnessed another shift. So far I had been observing my body, but now I felt a shift where my mind joined this field of the observed. The closest I can come to describing this experience is saying that I felt like I was observing myself from above myself, although I didn’t feel like I was higher up in the surrounding space.

Why Should I Care?

What did I gain from thirty hours spent on staring at my own breath? I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised if I told you that my ability to focus increased. Increased peace of mind would probably also be easy to understand.

But the real reason I do this is deeper than that; it is to understand the very nature of experience. We spend our lives chasing pleasurable experiences and running away from pain, no matter how lofty words we use to describe our ambitions.

Meditation, to me, is breaking through the surface reality to see what experiences are mere reflections of our habitual thoughts, and what is truly worthwhile. The vibrating breath and altered perceptions are but milestones on a path trodden by many before me.

A chronically congested nose can at times be our greatest teacher. After sniffling through the winter, I usually find my nose blocked by my springtime allergy. A few days ago on a sunny afternoon I found myself, strangely enough, able to breath freely. I was overtaken by childlike wonder of this feeling of just breathing, and stood there for the next 5 minutes exploring this strange sensation.

When was the last time you allowed yourself be carried away by this feeling of awe and wonder for everyday things?

Meditation as an Exercise in Wonder

The last time I remember myself experiencing something like this was towards the end of a ten-day meditation retreat I was attending a year ago. The first six days or so ranged from uncomfortable to agonizing, but then for some reason my mind settled into a, well, peaceful state of mind.

I remembering walking along the paths during the breaks and staring at just about everything I could find; the beetles, straws of grass, the blue sky, the starry sky, the mundane, and the genuinely beautiful. And everything felt like I was seeing it for the first time. That was the point when I became convinced about the benefits of meditation.

Happiness

Granted, maintaining that state of mind in the middle of our hectic lives might not be easy nor even practical, but perhaps there’s something to be learned here. Relaxing our views of the world, our “knowing”, we can meet the world anew and see it with fresh eyes. We all have our ways to unwind and relax physically, perhaps it’s time to learn how to do so mentally?

Otto Scharmer’s book “Theory U” is a veritable treasure trove. One gem I discovered today was a list of the metaprocesses that “create the world we live in from moment to moment”:

• Thinking (attending)
• Conversing (languaging)
• Organizing (structuring)
• Forming fields or collective global action (coordinating)

I see a clear correlation between the first two metaprocesses and my self-declared interests of meditation and Art of Hosting. Meditation helps me turn my attention inwards to the internal metaprocess of reality creation, while Art of Hosting is a pathway to do the same with conversation.

This leads me to think; what might similarly open up our “wisdom eye” for structuring and coordinating?

As I try to figure out the chaos we find ourselves in, I also find myself tremendously excited about a number of things. I’m putting these thoughts out in the hopes of sharing my inspiration and connecting with others interested in similar things.

Meditation

Meditation for me has over the past years gone  from an esoteric practice to a useful way to develop myself to a practical path to realization. And it is the practicality of meditation that most excites me.

In my rather brief practice history of maybe 200 hours, I’ve noticed an increasing ability to stay present and remain equanimous. I’ve also had enough experiences with my own mind to be fairly convinced that there’s something to the talk about a path of realization.

Art of Hosting

In many ways Art of Hosting, together with ideas such as Theory U, is to the interpersonal realm what meditation is to the intrapersonal. It is a leadership practice of inviting in all contributions and weaving a rich tapestry of meaning. And is that not exactly what the world needs right now?

I have already started dabbling with tools in the Art of Hosting toolbox; World Café, Circle, Open Space, etc. Next weekend I’ll be attending a course on Art of Hosting and will continue to bring in the tools and philosophies to my daily work.

The Hub

The Hub is a business center, incubator, networking club, and innovation center for social innovators. It is beautifully straddled between the old world of business while boldly stepping into what’s yet to emerge.

I recently joined as a member at The Hub Amsterdam and will definitely take every opportunity to get to know the people that make up the community.

Financial Crisis

Aside from the fact that the prospect of a total economic collapse is scary, I find the crisis exhilarating. As old institutions are failing, they can free space for new, nimbler, and more human players to take their place.

What does this mean in practice? Honestly, I have no clue. But here’s a partial list of places to look in:

• Kufunda Learning Village
• Transition towns
• Global Oneness Project
• Pioneers of Change
• The Obama administration

There’s so much electricity in the air that I’m almost starting to believe there’s something to the 2012 predictions running rampant.