meditation, which he, Goenka, was now reintroducing to the world. She had no objection
to that. Though she knew little of Buddhism, she had read an elementary text on the plane
to India and had been impressed by the power and truth of the Buddha`s four noble
truths:
1. Life is suffering.
2. Suffering is caused by attachments (to objects, ideas,
individuals, to survival itself).
3. There is an antidote to suffering: the cessation of desire, of
attachment, of the self.
4. There is a specific pathway to a suffering–free existence: the
eight–step path to enlightenment.
Now, she reconsidered. As she looked about her, at the entranced acolytes,
the tranquilized assistants, the ascetics in their hillside caves content with a life
dedicated to Vipassana «sweeping,” she wondered whether the four truths were so
true after all. Had the Buddha gotten it right? Was the price of the remedy not
worse than the disease? At dawn the following morning she lapsed into even
greater doubt as she watched the small party of Jainist women walk to the
bathhouse. The Jainists took the decree of no killing to absurd degrees: they
hobbled down the path in a painfully slow, crablike fashion because they first had
to gently sweep the gravel before them lest they step on an insect—indeed they
could hardly breathe because of their gauze masks, which prevented the inhalation
of any miniscule animal life.
Everywhere she looked, there was renunciation, sacrifice, limitation, and
resignation. Whatever happened to life? To joy, expansion, passion, carpe diem?
Was life so anguished that it should be sacrificed for the sake of
equanimity? Perhaps the four noble truths were culture–bound. Perhaps they were
truths for 2,500 years ago in a land with overwhelming poverty, overcrowding,
starvation, disease, class oppression, and lack of any hope for a better future. But
were they truths for her now? Didn`t Marx have it right? Didn`t all religions based
on release or a better life hereafter target the poor, the suffering, the enslaved?
But, Pam said to herself (after a few days of noble silence she talked to
herself a great deal), wasn`t she being an ingrate? Give credit where it was due.
Hadn`t Vipassana done its job—calmed the mind and quashed her obsessive
thoughts? Hadn`t it succeeded where her own best efforts, and Julius`s, and the
group members` efforts had all failed? Well, maybe yes, maybe no. Perhaps it was
not a fair comparison. After all, Julius had put in a total of about eight group
sessions—twelve hours—while Vipassana demanded hundreds of hours—ten full
days plus the time, and effort, to travel halfway around the world. What might
have happened if Julius and the group had worked on her that many hours?
Pam`s growing cynicism interfered with meditation. The sweeping stopped.
Where had it gone—that delicious, mellifluous, buzzing contentment? Each new
day her meditative practice regressed. The Vipassana meditation progressed no
farther than her scalp. Those tiny itches, previously so fleeting, persisted and grew
more robust—itches evolved into pinpricks, then into a sustained burning that
could not be meditated away.
Even the early work inanapana–sati was undone. The dike of calmness
built by breath meditation crumbled, and the surf of unruly thoughts, of her
husband, John, or revenge and airplane crashes, came breaking through. Well, let
them come. She saw Earl for what he was—an aging child, his large lips pursed
and lunging for any nipple within range. And John—poor, effete, pusillanimous
John, still unwilling to grasp that there can be no yes without a no. And Vijay,
too, who chose to sacrifice life, novelty, adventure, friendship upon the altar of
the great God, Equanimity. Use the right word for the whole bunch, Pam
thought.Cowards. Moral cowards. None of them deserved her. Flush them away.
Nowthere was a powerful image: all the men, John, Earl, Vijay, standing in a
giant toilet bowl, their hands raised imploringly, their squeals for help barely
audible over the roar of the flushing water!That was an image worth meditating
upon.
19
_________________________
The flower replied: You
fool! Do you imagine I
blossom in order to be
seen? I blossom for my
own sake because it
pleases me, and not for
the sake of others. My
joy consists in my being
and my blossoming.
_________________________
Bonnie opened the next meeting with an apology. «Sorry to one and all about my
exit last week. I shouldn`t have done that but...I don`t know...it was out of my
control.»
«The devil made you do it.» Tony smirked.
«Funny. Funny, Tony. Okay, I know what you want.I chose to do it
because I was pissed. That better?»
Tony smiled and gave her the thumbs–up signal.
In the gentle voice he always used when addressing any of the women in
the group, Gill said to Bonnie, «Last week after you left, Julius suggested you
might have felt pissed at being ignored here—that basically the group replayed
your description of what routinely happened to you in your childhood.»
«Pretty accurate. Except I wasn`t pissed.Hurt is a better term.»
«I know pissed,” said Rebecca, «and you were good вЂ?n` pissed at me.»
Bonnie`s face clouded over as she turned to Rebecca. «Last week you said
that Philip had clarified the reason you don`t have girlfriends. But I don`t buy
that. Envy of your good looks isnot the reason you don`t have girlfriends or at
least why you and I haven`t become close; the real reason is that you`re basically
not interested in women—or at least you`re not interested in me. Whenever you
say something to me in the group, it is always to bring the discussion back to
you.»
«I give you feedback about the way you handle—or, mostly,don`t handle—
anger, and then I get accused of being self–centered.» Rebecca bristled. «Do you
or don`t you want feedback? Isn`t that what this group is about?»
«What I want is for you to give me feedback aboutme. Or about me and
someone else. It`s always about you, Rebecca—or you and me—and you`re so
