I’ll attempt to write. I think I’ll write about my experience at the Dhamma Siri Southwest Vipassana Meditation Center.
In summary: I feel this course has enraptured, benefitted and connected thousands of people while furthering their pursuit of meditation but I feel it was designed to inspire awe and donations, which is intrinsically antithetic to meditating. If the movie Kumaré bothered you I suggest you browse another site. If you want a gratuitously honest account of my experience at Dhamma Siri Southwest Vipassana Meditation Center continue reading.
My friend and I are endeavoring to write more. In an attempt to inspire ourselves and each other we are undertaking “inspiration challenges” to local sites and attractions. This is the first installment of the first writing after our first challenge outing. Enjoy.
A mundane Tuesday greeted our cheeks with oppressive heat goaded forward by the low-hanging sun. Slowly we crawled forth from the hollow porch and dragged our heels across uneven slabs of cement, the drops of sweat matching our pace as they descended from our knees. With words belabored by summer air we busied our minds as the distance clicked beneath our heels: a wrong word, a giggling flow of carnal words, an awed word for trees. As we lost ourselves we found the entry to our destination. Favored by cats, the door rested slightly below the earth and complained of a faulty foundation as it scraped open against the ground.
We entered with a cat underfoot and basked in the pleasant greeting of the attending clerk. She was a friendly soul who floated throughout the shop tidying and assisting all while herding cats. Our senses delighted in the onslaught: walls covered floor to ceiling with goods, trinkets and magical accoutrement waited for our novice sight and touch. We searched, as though through a seed catalog, for things which called to us as strongly as we to them. Through candles, gemstones, oils, pendants, books, herbs, teas, incense and altars we delved hoping for a connection guided by something greater than our curiosity.
With a bag plump with periwinkle, honeysuckle, oils and sage I happily waited while my companion packed her bag with blessed candles. The promise of an impending ritual occupied our minds while our tongues wagged about skeletons and fake black cats.
I recently had the pleasure of driving from Dallas, Texas to Sarasota, Florida, then back again with my father. The weather was beautiful the entire way, the traffic was light and the trip was a lot of fun, especially a particularly drunken night I had in Jackson, Mississippi.
I have always loved my feet; even their blobby, lovely piles of bones and calluses elicit nothing shy of adoration from me so it is natural to me I photograph them in their various adventures. They experience many things.