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submitted by
babulin675
6 months, 3 days ago
westernchanfellowship.org — I have just returned home, and it seems sensible to write the report before the memories of the retreat begin to slip away. Yet even by writing about it, the events seem so strange and wonderful that words alone cannot express the sheer depth and vast space that has at times punctuated the practise; the clarity of perception, the long silences that can only be likened to the desert, not a silence that is threatening, but the clear silence that you get at high altitude in the mountains, or the space far out at sea in a small boat. Yet to get there is like treading a maze, a labyrinth of one's own illusions, the tricks of one's own mind, the beliefs and structures that slowly but surely have to be worn down, the conditioning, the expectations, the pain, the deception of one's own ego, the clouding over of events and their true origin, the shunning of responsibility for ones own actions, the lack of humility, respect and repentance. All these are obstacles to the path, the human mind like an otter swimming under water seeking the big fish in a large pool.
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