Stickspiracy

At the end of January and beginning of February, I completed 10 days of silence. It was an experience that I will never forget, and a place (not physical), but a place internally, in my heart and mind that I still return to, the stillness, the peace, our natural state. It’s all I crave these days.

I would like to share a journal entry about one of my experiences and learnings while I was there. I hope you enjoy it.

Stickspiracy

I was walking along the sole path at the retreat center. It had to have been day two out of ten. This path started at the dorm’s front door and led to the dining hall. The path was made of gravel and moved snake-like through trees and foliage and across a creek. This path would serve as our nature walk during leisure and break time, too. It was, of course, always busy with people walking, contemplating, all in silence.

In the middle of the path lay two sticks, parallel and horizontal to one another. I thought, “Someone from the last group must have gotten really bored being in silence for 10 days and resorted to making stick art.”

The first time I passed this part of the path, I walked over the sticks. Quickly, this got old. After crossing over them about five times or so, I began to wonder: why would someone put sticks in the middle of a busy walkway?

I have a history of falling on thin air. I brought my trekking shoes for this retreat just to be safe and avoid a fall. I even have to wear braces around my knees due to joint pain that makes my knees give out sometimes. I did not appreciate the little leap I had to take over the sticks every time I walked down to breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The sticks on the path were so far apart from one another, there was a risk of me or an elderly participant falling from trying to avoid them.

I felt annoyed. Why TF would someone put sticks here? I get it’s art, but why put it in everyone’s way? I felt myself start to feel a feeling bubbling up, it was a mixture of anger, frustration, judgment. I lost respect for the stick art on the ground and began stepping on the sticks if my stride just so happened to land on them. I wasn’t intentionally avoiding them anymore. If my natural step skipped over them, great. If not, so what.

At the meditation center, they teach us to stay equanimous. As I noticed these feelings of frustration and judgement, I remembered to practice the teaching - stay equanimous, everything, including feelings, will pass. I took a breath. I told myself, “It’s okay to let go, Bri.” I silently spoke, “Bless me, and bless them. I will not speak unkindly about this art, but I will do something for my own safety and comfort on this path.”

The next morning, as I walked the path, I intended to move a twig or two, but miraculously,  the sticks were gone! Someone apparently felt the same way I did, so it seemed. “Bless whoever did what I wasn’t willing to do.” I felt so glad that the sticks were gone. 

It didn’t last long, by lunch, the sticks were back, this time with bigger, thicker twigs. What in the world is going on here?

All the feelings and thoughts started coming back. “Are you kidding me? The original artist who created this piece was part of the last group, she isn’t even here! She wouldn’t know the sticks are gone, so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt, and if the sticks stay, it’s a hazard to those of us who aren’t completely able-bodied.”

Now, I began to step on the sticks in defiance. I even tossed two sticks that were particularly blocking my path in a way I didn’t like. My rationale was, “Let’s meet in the middle. Not all the sticks are removed, just a few to make a clear path for those who would not like their path obstructed.” Most (more than half) of the sticks stayed in place.

Within the hour, the sticks were replaced. “Okay, these ladies are serious about these sticks!” I decided not to pursue stick replacing or moving, and to let it be, for real this time.

Still, I stepped on the sticks if they interfered with my crossing. I proudly did it in front of others, too. “What followers! Making sticks is an idol simply because a person that attended this retreat before them placed them there. Now we have to honor their placement forever? Crazy.”

During one of my crossings on my way to breakfast, I stepped on the sticks, and the woman walking alongside me gasped, loudly, dramatically, suddenly. I scoffed and walked away. “Twig worshipper,” I thought.

After having a bowl of cereal, a warm tea, and cleaning my plates, I started heading down the path again. This time, something caught my eye.

I saw a leaf on the ground moving through the air. It was being carried on the back of an ant. It was mesmerizing. WOW! That leaf is huge compared to the ant! How is it doing that? It felt like magic. Ant after ant in single file, all marching with huge, bright green leaves on their backs, about five to ten times the size of the ant. How amazing.

As my focus on the tiny ants faded and my view widened, I realized the two rows of horizontal, parallel sticks. The ants were marching between the sticks. The sticks were protecting the ants from being crushed.

During the 10-day course, we agreed to follow five precepts, one of them being: abstain from killing any being.

It hit me. “OH MY GOSH, this person put the sticks there to warn us. She was protecting us from breaking the precept.”

All of that time I spent ruminating on my feelings about these twigs!! I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. Oh lord, did I kill any? My attitude about the whole thing was awful. I felt so guilty. How did I miss this?

The rest of the walk to the dorm, I couldn’t help but think about what other signs I was missing due to my own ignorance.

I didn’t hold on to being angry at myself. I did not know they were there, and now I do. I will do better. I can be more observant. “I do not have to punish myself.” With that, I moved on and enjoyed seeing the ants in passing when they were out. I felt grateful to them even.

I had to face the lady who gasped at me. We were in silence, so I fully expected an angry, judgmental stare, or at least a glare from her, nope, she just smiled at me and I smiled back.

What is your judgment blocking you from seeing? 

-Bri