Solitude

It's ironic that I find so much discontent with my life of relative solitude as it exists, yet seek solitude in a monastic environment somewhere.

There's an old saying of some kind about how often we humans look and look and look all around, far and wide, sometimes for years -- then discover that what we were looking for, what we wanted, was with us all the time.  I've been hearing and gathering little bits of data on that subject in the back of my mind for some time now, and I'm beginning to listen.

Some of the frustration I've found with the various monasteries I've visited has to do with solitude -- or lack thereof. I want a place where I can spend long hours meditating, but none of the monasteries really offers that, although I suppose I could arrange my own schedule in Austin to fit that need. Most, if they have any meditation schedule, offer a morning and evening meditation that are mandatory, but they're short -- generally no longer than an hour. And they include chanting, which I don't care for.

I'm looking for silence, for a peaceful place to just meditate for longer stretches, without having other scheduled activities or responsibilities to think about. In short, I want a retreat environment. In a perfect world there'd be some senior monastic around to offer advice and answer questions that might arise. But I haven't found a way to get both.

Those little thoughts in the back of my mind have been telling me that I have the perfect place right here, if I am willing to use it as such, and if I can find the discipline to do so. With that in mind I've set up an experiment that I hope to begin on Monday: 10 or so days 'on retreat' here in my home. No computer. No radio. I have taken the basic retreat schedule used at Bhavana and will follow that, breaking the 'no computer' rule each day long enough to listen to one of Sayalay Susila's dhamma talks from her 8-day retreat last December. No email, however!

Once I decided that, I needed to literally get my house in order. Neatness and cleanliness are the rule in any monastic environment, and necessary for the attainment of peace. I also had to get in a good supply of food, things that are easy to prepare for myself each day. Aside from general cleaning and neatening, the most necessary and wonderful thing I did was reinstate the beautiful meditation room I spent months re-doing, and which I abandoned over the winter due to cost of heat and then gave in to using it for staging Goodwill donations, storing empty boxes, and even curing garlic from the garden. It was a mess. Now, it's a meditation room again, as beautiful, calming and peaceful as ever. And as always, merely walking into or through the room brings instant calm and peace to me. I closed the reed blinds for the sake of photography, but they are generally open to the peaceful greenery outside.

 Solitude is happiness for one who is content, who has

heard the Dhamma and clearly sees.

There are a few more details to take care of: returning library books, some last-minute shopping and laundry, general straightening of the desk that won't be used, and hoping the rain stops long enough for my neighbor to cut my grass tomorrow so I won't be disturbed during my 'retreat'. I'll have meal, work and rest periods just as at Bhavana -- the rest is meditation.

Will I have the determination and discipline to make this work? I'll let you know.