E I GH T.

THE LONG RETREAT

A BREAKDOWN OF THE MAJOR FLOW OF PRACTICE LIFE

F R O M M Y L O W VA N T A G E P O I N T

A friend asks about the next retreat.

“Next year.”
“You’re not going to Korea?”
“No, to the retreat cabin in Louisiana.”
We talked for a while longer about the retreats and the
seasons between them, how to balance everyday life with in-
tensive practice. He absorbs what he can. He does understand
that it’s important to me, but he’s never sat before, or had the
inclination. To explain the life, the incredible heights, the im-
maculate ground, the subtle nature of pure consciousness…
since there’s no way to convey anything meaningful, we talked
of other things, and had a good morning together.
For those of you who haven’t gone deeply into this, there’s
no way to bridge the two worlds. I’m not attempting to re-
veal anything here — that’s for you alone to uncover. Instead
of flooding you with poetic concepts, I thought I’d do some-
thing on technique, something practical — to share what I’ve
gleaned from a lifetime of community life and long retreats.
My next retreat begins October 2, 2011. I chose this date
on the phases of the moon, so that it ends on a full moon, and
also that the only possible wilderness retreat in Louisiana is
in the winter, when the insects are dormant. There may be
other retreats before then, but this is the thing that dominates
me, quietens me. May I always have something like this on the
horizon.
The schedule was adapted from the Korean Chogye style.
They sit enormous retreats — hour–long periods from 8 to 21
per day. The 18 and 21–hour programs don’t allow for sleep
at all, and they hold this schedule for 90 days. I do a 12–hour
schedule, which is what I can do reasonably, allowing only 5
1/2 hours sleep, and just enough break time to cook and clean
and keep the machine running. The schedule follows:

_
WAKEUP 3:50

_
MEDITATION 4:00 - 7:20 MEDITATION 4-5, 5:10-6:10, 6:20-7:20
( 1 0 M I N U T E WA L K B E T W E E N R O U N D S )

_
BREAKFAST 7:30
2 HRS 40 MIN BREAK

WORK PERIOD
_
8:00

MEDITATION _ 10 - 1:20 MEDITATION 10-11, 11:10-12:10, 12:20-1:20

( 1 0 M I N U T E WA L K B E T W E E N R O U N D S )

LUNCH _ 1:30 1 HR 40 MIN BREAK

MEDITATION _ 3 - 6:20 MEDITATION 3-4, 4:10-5:10, 5:20-6:20

( 1 0 M I N U T E WA L K B E T W E E N R O U N D S )

TEA BREAK _ 6:30 40 MIN BREAK

MEDITATION _ 7 - 10:20 MEDITATION 7-8, 8:10-9:10, 9:20-10:20

(10 MINUTE WALK BETWEEN ROUNDS)
 It consists of 4 rounds with 3 hour–long periods each. The
day begins at four in the morning and lasts until 10:20 at night.
The breaks between the rounds tighten as the day progresses.
I stripped the form of anything cultural or religious and made
it very uniform, the same from morning to night — to give
the day a resonance, that the mind can sink freely, deeply into
substance with no disturbances.
I haven’t heard this mentioned anywhere else, this reso-
nance; a crucial element of practice. I first noticed it on a long
retreat at a desert monastery nearly twenty years after I’d be-
gun practicing. There’s a poetic description of it in Chapter
19 — Fire of The Zen Revolution, available free on www.the-
zenrevolution.com and on www.scribd.com. I found it much
easier to penetrate deeply if I would focus in short bursts, then
relax — to do this rhythmically. It wasn’t so much the tech-
nique but becoming aware of the ebb and flow of conscious-
ness and operating within its constraints, not trying to hold
some sort of unnatural stasis. Now when I sit it’s very stable
and accessible, and easily breached. If the thing you’re after
is at arm’s length, why get into a frenzy? It was later, in Ko-
rea, where the rhythmic probing brought about a tremendous
experience that further defined me, convinced me of the im-
portance of both operating within the natural resonance, with
no concern, and holding the mind delicately, completely, with
complete mastery. Many retreats after, I keep the same sched-
ule that developed from this. Though it’s very difficult, it’s a
very effective and powerful method.
Not only the 100–day solo, but how to support it? I’m not
able to take 100 days off every year, though if it were impor-
tant I could probably manage it. Why put myself into peril?
The natural pattern of life has its own seasons of trammeling
through the million things, of reflection — its own resonance.
If you allow it to manifest, it’s as if a living Buddha springs
before you at each step, instructing you, revealing all of the
subtle things that can’t be described. The voice, like what I use
here, the writer’s voice, begins to operate directly, with no ef-
fort. Then you’re able to make this dynamic path come alive,
give it what it demands from you — to be fully integrated,
connected, free.
Waiting in line at the AFI Fest, the wrong line it turned
out, I’m dazzled by the display. A concentration of art fans
and intellectuals, half of them wearing glasses or walking
strangely, wearing terrible, mismatched clothes; misshapen,
brooding, even grim. The thousand faces of Mara, the kind
and good — a swelling community gathered for the cinema. A
fine day to be trapped in the wrong line. Don’t get mad but if
I stand in a line too long, or have a long moment of quiet any-
where, I slip into a meditative, blissful awareness. I naturally
enter retreat mode, my mind knows it so well it enjoys return-
ing there. It’s no longer a question of discipline, although a
100–day retreat is no easy task. All of the difficulties have been
worn smooth, the turmoil released, and the thing has gained
enough momentum that it ignited, melded together the layers
until it became its own entity. I’m far enough into this process
of melding to recognize it. Having met several enlightened
masters, I’m both humbled about where I stand and assured
of the greater conflagration on the horizon. It has all become
rosy, this whirling existence, because already I’ve found a great
peace and a life that only increases this.
To live this way is the fruit of long labor. The body has
to learn first, a long process of developing the muscles in the
back to allow sitting comfortably upright for days on end. It’s
difficult to attain, but without it the depths remain largely out
of reach. The body is the gateway to the soul. All of the tra-
ditions teach this, and to develop an equally important emo-
tional strength. For this the community is invaluable. If you’re
not able to become a resident, the group will still pull you into
a practice regiment, encourage and support you — and there
you will encounter your first of many retreats.
Once you’ve committed to sitting through an entire day,
the importance of correct posture and emotional health be-
comes immediately evident. The two are directly linked.
If you’re holding something mentally, you’ll develop head-
aches, strain various muscles which soon develop into pain-
ful cramps. You’ll lose all your energy weathering this. You
quickly learn what a beast your mind is. Taming it is certainly
the most difficult thing you will ever do. In fact, it’s impos-
sible from where you are now. Your identity must be heated,
forged, blasted to an elemental state. Only if you survive this,
penetrate this, will you’ll know what I’m talking about. Long
before you’ll imagine that you’ve gotten somewhere, but the
floor will show plain enough your shortcomings. It’s far from
you, so far that the thing is lost completely — do you see? It is
quite extraordinary, this journey.
There are a million small details that go along with a full
day of meditation: how to focus the eyes so that they aren’t
strained; how to breathe, so natural that you wouldn’t think
it required any work — and it doesn’t — but there are count-
less ways the body/mind gets entangled, and breathing is a
big one (there’s something to the techniques of yogic breath-
ing and kundalini. In deep states of meditation my breathing
either becomes very faint and completely stops, or becomes
shallow and rapid, or a combination of these. A vast subject
of its own); you have to learn how to focus your energy, not in
your cranium, but your tan jin, or energy center; how to hold
it gently enough that there’s no outward stress, but not to the
point of falling asleep (many students never master this); how
to deal with the tedium of the floor; how to eat so that you
remain healthy and alert, but not too full; how to hold the at-
tention when arising from the mat, and the transition to walk-
ing meditation; how to sit through the pain, to utilize it. How
to sit cross legged for long periods without having the legs fall
asleep. Believe it or not, the blood vessels adapt to allow this
new posture, eventually. And the back learns to support itself,
to hold just the right amount of tension.
The mind is the hard part. To keep from getting lost or
rooted in some concept or delusion, koans and interviews
with a teacher are a common practice. They’re designed to
knock your legs out from under you, to break apart the new
layers as they form; to challenge, taunt, destroy. But the study
of koans leads to yet another layer to break through. There’s
truly nothing to hold on to, save the One, the thing alluded to
in a thousand poetic phrases — all of them koans themselves.
How elusive the mind is!
I don’t know how this will unfold for you. After the basics
are assimilated it becomes very personal. I can only speak of
my own experiences, you must take what works for you and
discard the rest. But we are very similar. I’m sure there’s not so
much to throw out. After ten years in the Zen center circuit,
I found it difficult to remain there. I felt I was repeating the
same things. Stagnant. But my decision to go it alone wasn’t
clear–cut. It was very difficult to give up on all of my ambi-
tions. I was forced out by an overbearing board member with
her own ambitions. The break from the institution was both
exhilarating and deadly. I didn’t know how to operate in the
world. I’d never had my own place. I worked hard. I found
a lot of support. The life I was to lead slowly became clear.
All during this time I slowly digested all that I’d learned, and
through this new vulnerability lost layer after layer of identity,
until I was very nearly lost. It was a synchronicity of events
that revealed the way to continue, as from that vantage point
it was quite invisible. Intuition works that way, in a symbolic
unfolding of events. It does speak our language, but is so easily
confused with egoistic yearnings that it’s best to distrust it, at
least until the ego is vanquished.
As all of the teaching is wrapped in the language of the in-
stitution (which I don’t use here) it takes a great deal of time to
surmount it. For me it was another ten years, a process that’s
still unfolding. I don’t think it has to be this way, but there are
few who are successful at it. It’s one of the hurdles you can’t
get over, for what will come of all your efforts? No credentials?
No diploma? No special standing? Are you kidding! …and so
it goes.
Once you’ve made it personal the natural thing is to take
up a serious practice, with or without others. I assure you at
this point there will be no more loneliness, not once you’ve
touched the realm of the Absolute. The first concern is pro-
curing a cabin. There are many Tibetan groups who have ones
to rent out, as long retreats are common to them. I’d stay out
of public as much as possible. I was fortunate to have a step-
father with a large piece of undeveloped, forested land that I
could build on. I have a small retreat cabin there made of hur-
ricane Rita salvage. Photos are up on flickr, linked in the text
of this show on scribd and fieldofweeds.com:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/thezenrevolution/
sets/72157623715195669/
The wilderness retreat has its own challenges. I plan to do
a time–lapse video to show this in great detail, but for now
I’ll give you only a few things to consider. The food must be
carried in, must be easy to digest, and it must keep for months
without refrigeration. I suggest 100 lbs rice; 25 lbs dried beans;
some nutritional yeast, spirulina, or B–complex vitamins; sev-
eral jars of peanut butter, rice vinegar, sesame oil; soy flour,
and salt. I also recommend black tea and coffee, a great aid and
comfort; and tea candles, unless you don’t mind sitting in the
dark. You’ll need a dependable camp stove and enough fuel for
all of the plan B’s. Try it out. Plan ahead.
To give an idea of the daily routine, I soak a handful of
dried beans overnight, and a cup of rice for the morning. After
the first round I heat up the rice in plenty of water, with a few
tablespoons of soy flour for protein. Cooking has to adapt to
the practice schedule, like all else, so I bring the rice to a boil
and shut off the stove, leaving it covered while I return to the
mat. On the next walk I do this again. After the last round it
only takes a few minutes to cook off what amounts to a rice
porridge, or juk. The same process for lunch, only I bring the
soaked beans to a boil a few times, then combine with a cup of
dried rice, which I cook normally. The third break is tea only.
No need to fill the stomach at this late hour
You have to get this down, or you will suffer. You have to
get used to doing things in stages. The laundry is the same.
You will soon find that what little break time you have is con-
sumed in keeping ahead of the chores. And what about heat?
I’ve survived the single–digits wrapped in a heavy blanket,
though Louisiana never stays frozen. If you have any further
questions about this, please send an email to: henry@thezen-
revolution.com
These long retreats are immense. They need a lot of time
between in the real world, gathering resources, being around
regular people, being pressed from all sides — it’s part of the
process, the change of seasons. The timing is something per-
sonal. How could anyone know? I don’t know myself. I notice
that I’ve become curious about the moon phases. I start to plan
things before I’m really conscious of it. That’s how hard it is to
discern the inner voice, but it gets easier.