Okay, I Believe

My meditation course had a "mini retreat" this week. On Friday, the class met at 3:00 pm and parted at 9:00 pm. Our instructions were, for the first five hours, do not speak, not to each other, not to ourselves. Do not make eye contact with each other. This meant keeping our eyes downcast at all times and fighting our natural urge to interact. But we get to note how many times in the five hours of silence we felt compelled to acknowledge each other. Then we get to talk about our experience in the last hour.

It started out with many people arriving late and all stressed out. I know this because each time someone ran in and thunked down in their seat, they said, "It was so stressful to get here." They had to take time off work, rush to the class, and the whole time, they are thinking what they could be doing with their time instead of spending it with these almost strangers.

For our time together, we did rotational yoga, sitting meditation, and walking meditation. The idea was to take time out to do nothing but be mindful of our every move, listen to the messages our bodies are sending to us, and be with any physical sensation or emotions that arise. In short, it's a problem discovery and healing process.

I had no idea what to expect. I'm not even sure I believed that my body had any message to send me. I guess I was wrong.

During one of the first meditations, I felt a warm, burning sensation in my innards. It dissolved into a kind of emptiness. The thought that surfaced was I wished The Man could meet me after the class. I felt his absence in my gut. Over the next several meditations, waves of sensation came over me. I identified one as feeling my father's absence, another as feeling my grandmother's absence. These are not surprises as I know I miss them. I just didn't know I was feeling their absence in my gut.

But you know what sensation was most pronounced? At one point, I kept having images of a schnitzel on a bun, laden with hot mustard and sourcrout. Every time I closed my eyes, there was the sandwich. I have not seen this sandwich for about 10 years. The Vienna Bakery, a cafe near where I used to work, made them. I had them for lunch often, when I was thinner and could chow down whatever's in front of me as good as the next guy.

At the end of that meditation, the instructor announced it was dinner break. Well, I'll be. I kept seeing this sandwich because I was hungry! Except I didn't know I was hungry, I was so focused on trying to figure out what the meditation exercises were about.

So I believe now. I believe there really is a relationship between how our bodies feel and what our minds think.