A 10 Day Vipassana Meditation Course: The Adventure

At the end of June I temporarily departed workaday life to go on an adventure.

Back in the winter of 2022, I waitlisted for a 10-day Vipassana meditation course at the nearest center to me, across the state in the western Massachusetts town of Shelburne.

I think I heard about Vipassana from two sustainability people: Josh Spodek and Peter Kalmus.

Vipassana meditation is a fundamental part of my response to living in a warming and overpopulated world undergoing rapid transformation. As part of my daily work, I look directly at the truth of global warming, and what it’s doing to the inhabitants of the Earth.

Meditation gives me the strength and the courage to keep interacting with this truth, as it is— not only to cope, but to be happy and as effective as possible in enacting positive change.

Meditation drives my ability to change myself. Because of meditation, my desire to consume has greatly diminished. I no longer have any desire whatsoever for vacation homes, sports cars, or private jets. I’m happy with enough.

By experiencing connection, the last thing I want is to intentionally harm other beings. By experiencing how all actions have effects, I wish to perform only actions that are good for me, good for others, and good for the biosphere.

Meditation has been, and continues to be, the key to aligning my actions with my principles.

Peter Kalmus, Being the Change (read the rest of the chapter and also the whole book free here)

Josh and I also spoke about his Vipassana experiences, which further intrigued me into trying it. I was curious about my mind, and wanted to see what it was like to meditate like that for so long.

The new student slots at the Shelburne center, Dhamma Dhara, fill up almost immediately when the signups open, so despite applying that day, I still ended up on the waitlist. Many months later, I got the email that I had come off the waitlist, and confirmed that I’d be coming, and submitted my time off request at work.

I thought that it would be cool to bike there. The center opens up a virtual carpool board for attendees to organize amongst themselves, but with my worsening carsickness and increasing enthusiasm for bike travel, the idea of making the trip via bike only got more and more appealing as the weeks ticked nearer.

About a hundred miles lie between where I live near Boston and Shelburne—no quick jaunt. I planned to take the commuter rail as far towards Shelburne as it would go, covering about 40 miles to Fitchburg, and then bike the remaining 60 miles. This seemed doable for me.

As June crept on, I started making preparations at work for my time off, and eventually the day was nearly there. To my slight surprise, I was pretty nervous. I’d never gone on a bike trip that hadn’t taken me home by the end of the day. This would be the furthest I’d ever biked in one direction, and I’d be alone this time, and the forecast said rain all day. I worried about mechanical problems: if I hit an issue I couldn’t fix, too bad, I was on my own on the side of Route 2A.

But I prepared basically as best I could, packing:

• Supplies to deal with up to three flat tires (and little else)
• Clothes: two shirts, two pants, a sweatshirt, the little stuff
• Toiletries
• A duvet cover (my “sleeping bag”) and small pillow
• Water bottles, two electrolyte tabs
• Two potatoes for the ride out, bag of dates for the ride home
• External battery for my phone

Since we were to arrive between 2-5pm on the “zeroth” day, I decided, out of an abundance of caution, to take the train the night prior to Fitchburg and stay the night there before setting off the next morning, leaving myself ample time to get there. So Tuesday night, I took the commuter rail for the first time with my bike loaded up. When it arrived in in Fitchburg, I biked a short distance to the home of someone who I’d arranged to host me through Warmshowers (the bike travellers’ host-finding platform). He welcomed me kindly to his very nice spare room and I had a decent night’s sleep.

The next morning, after breakfast, I repacked and set off. It was a rough start: it immediately started raining, and my route pointed me up some very steep hills. The rain turned into a heavy downpour as I struggled up the hills, stopping often to walk. My rain jacket revealed that it was not exactly waterproof, and my arms got soaked inside the sleeves. My shorts were hopelessly drenched. I wondered if I had ignorantly plotted my route up these hilly neighborhoods unnecessarily. What have I gotten myself into, I wondered as I splashed onwards.

Eventually, the first climb was over and I got to gratefully coast for a while. But the rain kept on coming on and off. I was glad I had both fenders. My lower legs were repeatedly bathed in road water, but at least it wasn’t spraying up the rest of me.

As far as my research had yielded, there wasn’t much of bike paths that would fall near a direct route to Shelburne, so roads it was. I was on the shoulder of a highway for a lot of it, maybe 30 or so miles. I stopped to drink water and have a few bites of potato every 45 minutes or so, having finally learned through repeated experience that hydrating properly with electrolytes and eating frequently is immensely helpful for lengthy exertions.

It was a thankfully uneventful ride on the highway, and despite the gloomy weather I was feeling focused and good. Sometimes the rain would stop for a while, and then resume with ferocity. It felt like the clouds were following me, and I was failing to escape them. But I checked the weather maps, and it looked like I was at fault for biking into their path. My shirt got completely soaked so I took it off and added my raincoat as a flappy reflective cape tied around my neck.

About 40 miles in we got to the next interesting part: Wendell State Forest. My route took me off the highway on a roughly 15 mile arc through the forest before the final stretch into Shelburne. As the forest approached, signs pointing towards farms started popping up and I pulled by one to check out their stand.

Entering the state forest, things got quiet and cars lessened. It was a bit of a misty situation, with a dense forest with lots of tall skinny pines on either side, and the occasional house for quite a while. It was also the second long climb of the ride, about 6 miles of going up, while I walked many parts of. The roads were very pleasantly smooth, in like-new condition that was very comfortable to ride on.

Eventually, the sun came out and it became a hot, bright, still humid summer day. Coasting down and out of the forest was great fun.

Exiting the forest, I entered “cute little town” land. I stopped to take pictures at a few bridges. And around 2pm, when it was really getting hot, I took a small detour past an airfield to follow the signs to an ice cream shop, which turned out to be in the lobby of a… children’s performing arts theater? I rolled in, skirted the children’s dance class happening in the lobby, used their bathrooms, and had a sorbet before taking on the last 10 or so miles, the finish almost in sight.

There was one more big climb up to the Center, and I started some music blasting on my phone a few miles before to galvanize myself. My shirt, which I’d put back to start drying it out in the hot sun, was almost entirely dry again. As I neared, pedaling down some residential streets and past picturesque fields, the clouds continued to darken and eventually thunder broke out just as I was starting the worst of the last climb.

In the last thirty minutes, the jolly sunny time was reverted to rain-pelted struggle. My shirt was completed drenched again, and at the top of the hill, I gratefully spotted the sign with the wheel and cranked into my destination in sopping, winded style.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired!”

The people greeting arrivals were certainly surprised to see me, and were impressed to hear that I’d biked all day to get there. Someone whisked my bike away to their garage, someone else helped load my stuff into the wheelbarrow, and a third person handed me an umbrella for the final twenty foot walk into the building, which I found funny considering there wasn’t a dry inch of me.

I was guided to my room (I was impressed, it was a very nice single bedroom with its own bathroom) and instructed to take my time to get settled and cleaned up before bringing my valuables up for check-in. That I did, taking a shower and changing into clean clothes (which had survived the journey dry, thanks to my pannier and the trash bag I lined it with) before texting my parents that I’d made it and bringing up my valuables for check in.

With my phone surrendered, it was just me now. This was the start.

I had a quick nap before dinner, where I ate an ungodly amount of very good white bean soup and bread. Then we had our first meditation and it was shortly bedtime.

The bell rang at 4 am the next morning, as the schedule dictated. Six and a half hours of sleep after the whopper of a day I’d had yesterday was not enough. But I got up anyway and by 4:30 the first long meditation had begun.

I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow detail of the whole ten days. The program is executed in a highly specific, uniform way across these Vipassana centers all over the world, and you can read about the rules and daily schedule elsewhere. But to briefly summarize, it was ten days of mostly meditation (scheduled for about 11 hours per day), taught in a specific manner that has you either focusing on the experience of breathing or the experience of sitting, punctuated by two very tasty vegetarian meals per day, a dinner teatime with fruit, and some breaks for walking, napping, and washing your underwear in the sink. There is no communication with other participants, both verbal and nonverbal, to enable 100% focus on the meditation. Likewise, there is no writing or reading allowed. Obviously if you were to secretly read in your room (which I didn’t), no one was going to barge in and stop you, but it was strongly not recommended. Lastly, there was no formal exercise allowed, which I found hard not to do, both because I wanted to move and because I feared my leg muscles would weaken after ten days of sedentary life and make the bike home incredibly excruciating.

I got distracted very often (both intentionally and unintentionally) at first. It was hard not to, especially since my mental playground was so fun to play in. I enjoy scheming: I schemed about things including:

• Decorating my currently bare living room
  • Making a map of the region traced onto a glass poster frame so I could interchange the background
• Painting an accent wall in my room
• Starting a video documentary series
• Sewing a handlebar bag that converts into a fanny pack
• Making a meme compilation about my Vipassana experience
• Making a video about every possible way to wear a bandana
• Career thoughts

I also rewatched some of my favorite movies in my mind.

All the intentional screwing around was very much against the regulations, but I was simply not serious enough to exert every last speck of my willpower towards following the program to the letter. hat being said, I was serious enough to put in the effort to meditate properly a majority of the time, I’d say about 70%. Which is still a lot of hours of meditation per day, more than I’d ever done in my whole life added up.

My main gripe with the experience was the discourses: roughly hourlong lectures given (via videotape, of course) by S. N. Goenka every evening at 7pm to provide background, motivation, and instruction regarding the practice. I would have preferred he stopped at the mechanism of the technique’s effects (training yourself to be aware and equanimous with your sensations will help you be a happier and better person) and skipped all the Buddhism, and all the stories and analogies as well, because all of that was some combination of

a) Spiritual bunk, aka unprovable and/or obviously made-up ideas (there will be a next life if you do not get enlightened, your old engrained responses will start rising up out of nowhere if you stop generating new ones, the unconscious mind creates the feeling of physical discomfort as a rebellious response to the “purity” of meditation)

b) Unnecessarily long winded (a 5-10 minute story just to say that you have to put in the work instead of asking other people to magically enlighten you) 

c) Already abundantly obvious (going through the motions of religious rites doesn’t make you a good person, doing good things does)

d) Logically flawed or otherwise just low quality rhetoric (“We’re all just wavelengths and therefore the idea of individual identity don’t make any sense!” Like, those two separate ideas have merit but this is some bad Tumblr post level stringing together of ideas. Also, I suspected a poor understanding of electricity)

e) Praising the “scientific” quality of the method after lots of a) and d). I strongly object to the misuse and misrepresentation of the concept of science and I think that’s very detrimental to the world.

I wouldn’t object to the Buddhism if the course was one on that, or if it was taught more as cultural information rather than fact. But the practice is distinct from the theory, as Goenka says, and throughout he emphasizes that the practice is scientific and involves no blind belief. So to then carry on and on about these theories every night seems… unnecessary and confusing. Sure, some people might buy it. But not all. And he vehemently claims Vipassana to be universal.

I also disliked that at the start he said “you’re all full of trash” (paraphrased).

On the bright side, what I learned over the course included:

• It’s hard to be 100% focused on the present for more than a few moments at a time in most scenarios—I tend to start thinking about other things, usually plans. I tend to dream up plans a bit excessively.
• I can entertain myself for a really long time, even while restricted to sitting still with my eyes closed
• I can do hard things (repeatedly resist the urge to do the above) even with zero accountability and no immediate rewards.
• Focusing is a very valuable skill you can strengthen by practicing. I definitely got better at it over the course.
• You don’t have to react to all stimuli the way you do now—it’s possible to change it for the better.
• A hot beverage and a snack can really put some pep in your step. The hot apple cider served after Day 4’s intro to Vipassana was felt
• Food is a vastly more pleasurable when you focus on it and have no distractions
• I love coleslaw. Goddamn, their coleslaw was good.
• I don’t actually like coffee or tea that much
• At the subtlest levels, I can’t feel the left side of my body as well as the right side
• I raise my shoulders slightly a lot of the time, so keeping them relaxed and down for long periods actually made them hurt quite a lot at first, as if they were being stretched out downwards.
• I can feel my pulse almost anywhere on my body if I concentrate enough.
• I love looking at pretty clouds in the sky, and you can see so much more of it when there aren’t so many buildings in the way.
• I like to witness sunrise and sunset
• I rely on writing things down a lot. I didn’t miss talking, but I was craving a pen and paper so much.

On the 11th morning, the last of the course, it was raining once again. After the final meditation ended at 6:30 am, I gratefully ate a breakfast of cold cereal, finished the last touches cleaning my room, put on my un-modest biking outfit, repacked, and embarked on the way home. As geography dictates, just as my arriving had taken a final climb, leaving the course began with a nice, long, coast downwards through the trees, which felt awesome after ten days of no biking, moving fast, or going anywhere. I had previously entertained the idea of hopping over to Shelburne Falls to check out some spots people had recommended before I left the area, but day of, I didn’t want to tempt fate. I just wanted to get home as smoothly as possible.

The rain never morphed into a full-on downpour, and eventually the gloom cleared up entirely. When I entered Wendell State Forest for another climb, I felt that despite my furtive lunges, my legs were getting an unpleasant shock after ten days. The hills felt harder this time, but I also felt more comfortable this time, having already done it once. The new familiarity of my surroundings was comforting. That being said, I still had many moments of Google Maps skepticism: “Is this really the best route or is Google Maps sending me through a whole gauntlet of avoidable hills?” But there was little to be done about it: I just put my head down (or sometimes, my feet down—on the ground—to walk) and pedaled.

By early afternoon, the sun was blazing in full glory and with the humidity, it was HOT. I made sure to put on sunscreen and drink water frequently.

Eventually, I was back in Fitchburg again, an hour ahead of the train.

Glorious victory. This time, it was the station that was at the very end of the line, Wachusett, which is a pretty isolated location, so there was nowhere to browse while I waited. Instead, I plopped myself on the deserted platform bench, in the shade, and had a long overdue phone call to catch up with my college friend. Thanks to my rechargeable battery (found on the sidewalk just a week ago), I had more than enough juice for that. I also changed out of my grimy bike shorts into clean shorts by makeshifting a skirt out of my hoodie and bandana (another fun moment).

The ride home was uneventful, and I passed much of it still on the phone. I did get to observe all the other bikes coming on, and how folks made sure to stack against bikes going to the same or later stations. I was pleased at how many there were.

When I arrived back in Somerville, it was almost bizarre to me that it was still light out, given distant the start of my day seemed. I biked home and took a most wonderful shower. And for dinner? Why, bean soup, of course.

I did make that meme video a few days later. I hope you enjoy—especially fellow old students 🙂