by Toi Geil
October 16, 2009
I didn’t know quite what to expect on my first weekend Buddhist retreat. Bob, Jeffery, Terry and I embarked early Saturday morning for the annual Mountains and Rivers Retreat after an evening spent meditating, listening to a dharma talk, and cleansing ourselves in a sweat lodge ceremony.
The morning was lovely – cold with a blue ski and sunshine. The drive to the trailhead filled with conversation. We hoisted our packs and began the 7.5 mile journey up the trial to the high mountain meadow that would be our home for the next few days. As we walked in silence I admired the beautiful autumn day and immersed myself in the sights, sounds, and smells of the forest.
I’d never been in the woods the way I was that day. The walking in silence with others, the silent pauses every 20 minutes or so, and the ceremonies along the way were new. Time dropped away and I felt connected to eternity, alive, and relaxed.
We were all pretty settled into the rhythm of movement, silence, and pauses. Evening was approaching and we were about two miles below Matzama Park – our high mountain destination. I was feeling a bit tired and my mind was wondering in many different directions. Jeffery was out front - he paused. In turn Bob, me, and Terry paused. As I stood there I began to hear a hum that grew into a frenzied buzzing. My mind began to roil with panic … the panic that comes from knowing that sound – the sound of swarming wasps. I looked down to see my blueberry colored wool socks covered in yellow and black striped insects. I froze – unsure how a Buddhist is supposed to react to swarming insects. I heard Bob yell “don’t run” and I thought what the ….. I got bit… I ran …. Terry who was behind me ran … and everyone else ran.
Once the wasps stopped chasing us I sat down on the trail. I am sorry to say as soon as my backside hit the dirt I started swatting the wasps off my socks. Terry swatted the sleeve of his shirt – it had filled with angry wasps. I ended up with one bite and Terry ended up with three.
Jeffery and Bob had run one way and Terry and I had run the other. The ground wasp hive lay between us with the trail surrounded by a steep upslope on one side and a steep down slope on the other side - too steep for a traverse around the nest. Bob was amazing - he crossed the wasps nest to bring Terry and me doses of Benadryl and advice. By the way he hadn’t said “don’t run” – he’d said “go run” – what the mind hears when panicked…..may not even remotely resemble reality.
I’d been dressed in shorts and a t-shirt prior to the ordeal and I armored up in my Gortex rain gear for the second time over the top of the wasp nest. One by one we each walked slowly and deliberately over the top of the ground wasp nest – running once we got past it. We all made it past, angering the wasps, but without further mishap.
As we walked on I couldn’t help wondering about the meaning of the wasps. After setting up camp, a quick dinner, and evening meditation I went to bed tired but relaxed (in spite of the itchy wasp bite that was a reminder of the encounter earlier in the day).
Before sunrise on Saturday morning the sound of a bell woke me from a peaceful slumber. After group sitting meditation and breakfast Bob placed us each in a quite spot away from each other and camp for solo meditation. I settled down amongst the blueberry bushes which were loaded with ripe berries to continue my mediation. As I sat, eating a few blueberries, quietly emptying my mind, I heard a buzzing nearby and panicked. I anchored my fear in my breathing and then watched the bushes around me. I began to observe one after another little wasp fly by as it weaved through the blueberries. I was perched on a wasp highway! I tried to squelch the panic I felt. It just got worse. I fled the spot only to stand looking back for several minutes.
I decided the message being delivered by the wasps was to work with my fear. So after a while, when the wasps seemed to be going elsewhere, I headed back to my Thermarest pad/meditation cushion and settled myself again. Once again the wasps came one by one buzzing by. I tried to work with my fear breathing it in and breathing out relaxation …but relaxation did not come. I fled the wasp highway and took up mediating a few yards away … “pondering what is the meaning of this?”
Bob, Jeffrey, and Terry came by to pick me up from the solo. Later I asked “did you guys see any wasps on solo …” the answer was three no’s… so I pondered on.
After lunch and some more mediation I went back to my tent to find two wasps buzzing between the tent fly and the body of the tent. Again I asked.... a bit panicked …what are the wasps trying to tell me… what is the meaning of this?
I came up with a variety of meanings but none seemed to make sense given the circumstances. throughout the weekend wasps kept flying by me and every time – albeit a bit panicked – I’d ask myself what is the meaning of this … is there a meaning here at all…a message somewhere? My mind and my emotions were definitely getting a workout.
I awoke Sunday morning with the knowledge that we’d all be walking over the top of the wasp nest a little later in the day. I was still searching for meaning, if any, in all the wasps’ visits. I was also occasionally getting distracted by the sensation of one very itchy wasp bite on my lower leg.
In preparation for the journey out I wore more than shorts and a t-shirt just in case I got swarmed again – after all bare skin is probably a temptation for the most well behaved carnivorous wasp. So clad in shorts and t-shirt, with long johns underneath, I headed down the trail silently walking behind Jeffery and Bob with Terry bringing up the rear.
The morning was lovely and the ceremonial stops along the trail breathtaking. We stopped for lunch a little ways before the wasp nest. I savored some dark chocolate for desert. If I was going to be a snack for the wasps I at least wanted to be a sweeter snack the second time around since I’d been a swatting hysterical snack a day and a half before (O.K. I’ll use any excuse to eat dark chocolate…)
After lunch we approached the place we thought the wasps were and spread out walking very quietly and lightly one by one. When my turn came I was scared. I decided I would just walk with my fear. After all it wasn’t going away. As I walked I imagined breathing in peace and breathing out gratitude to the wasps. What a relief – we all walked past with no one getting stung!
I thought wow – the guardians of the gate let us through – even me with my fear. It dawned on me that just maybe I needed to move a little differently with my fear and in turn the wasps would move differently with me!
We walked on. Jeffery paused and we all paused in turn. Then Terry quietly but emphatically said – there’s the wasp nest right were Jeffery is standing! Well, Jeffery moved quickly forward and Bob, me and Terry moved quickly backwards. The sunlight highlighted the angry swarm of wasps that stood between Jeffery and the rest of us.
After awhile the wasps settled. Bob – the brave bodhisattva – went first walking quietly and lightly. As he passed over the top of the wasp nest two wasps flew up and obliged their anger by chasing him a few feet. Next it was my turn. I settled my racing heart and wild mind by focusing on my breath. I brought my palms together ready to bow Namaste to the wasps and I walked slowly and quietly with my fear … breathing in peace and breathing out gratitude.
Terry later told me not a single wasp flew up from the nest as I walked over it. Terry also walked over the nest without incident.
We all stood a ways down from the wasp nest – much relieved that we had passed the guardians of the gate in peace this time.
I learned so much from all of this – my companions on the journey – the wasps – nature and time. I learned in an experiential way that none of the reading I’ve done on mindfulness, meditation, and Buddhism has taught me.
I learned things unfold in a rhythm of time space that can’t be forced – when it is time to understand understanding will come.
I learned it is not necessary to move through life’s tough spots with either physical armor or psychological armor or, for that matter, Gore-Tex raingear when it is not raining – but sometimes long johns are a good thing to wear to help bolster ones confidence and settle ones fear just a little bit.
I learned to move with a different energy – a mindful energy that works within the context of the situation both internally and externally. Maybe it is the energy I’ve heard called flow which created movement and understanding without violence.
Many thanks to Bob, Jeffery, Terry, nature, the wasps and the Red Cedar Zen community – all made the journey possible.