A Personal Awakening Story

Just breath and experience Logos

One of the small meditation halls in the Lower Hamlet at Plum Village

Something had changed when I stepped out of the meditation hall. The forest was bursting with life; not only could I see and hear the animals all around me, I could feel them, in this uncanny connection. Something very profound seemed to transpire from the trees, as if hidden wisdom were ready to be plucked, like ripe fruit.

If I’d been anywhere else, I would’ve thought someone had spiked my tea with LSD. However, the effect was very different: instead of being hallucinogenic, trippy and dream-like, I felt like a great weight had been lifted, as if I’d pierced through a cloak that covered reality permanently. There were no more voices in my head, no more catchy songs: all I could hear was my breathing, and with it, the whole Universe manifest.

I was on the third day of a week-long retreat with the monks of Plum Village. Even though I used their meditation app and read Master Thich Nhat Hanh’s books, I’d never actually been to the village itself. So, when someone in my family said they were going, I decided to tag along.

I wasn’t expecting much; eating clean for a week, going deeper into my meditation practice and spending time with my kin was more than enough. I was a little worried, maybe scared, though, that I would feel bored out of my mind, since the first thing you have to do is turn your phone off. That dopamine addiction is something, huh?

“We wake up at five in the morning”, said the sister in charge of our group. “Come again?”, I stammered. Being a night owl and having my best ideas when it’s dark, the perspective of dragging myself out of bed at five was unthinkable, unless I had a plane to catch and was headed to the airport. “Whatever”, I grumbled to myself, “let’s give these people a chance and see how it goes”.

Waking up early sure has its benefits…

Surprisingly, boredom was almost impossible, since we had many duties to fulfil, when we weren’t talking to the monastics, who gave you enough nuggets of wisdom to keep your mind busy for hours. On a typical day, we’d get up around five, shower and get dressed, and then walked through the forest to a meditation hall, in complete silence. This wasn’t a silent retreat, but between nine pm till after breakfast, you were strongly invited to shut the hell up, which was a huge relief. I can’t stress enough how relaxing it is, to not have someone babbling nonsense beside you, even if it’s someone you love. Here, the opposite effect happened: since you spent twelve hours or more without talking, you realized you actually didn’t need to talk so much, so when the talking prohibition was lifted after breakfast, you actually didn’t feel the need to communicate verbally. You could talk, and we did, but the quality of the content was radically different. No more empty chit-chat: “how’s the weather today?” or silly conversations about your job: the group came to an understanding that, if it wasn’t important, we could just be with the person, instead of talking to them.

Farming and preparing food were central activities in the retreat

The rest of the day was spent doing different activities. My group was in charge of cooking, so we would mindfully prepare the vegan meals, chopping vegetables and looking deeply into the connection between our food and our bodies. We also went farming, and spent a lot of time working on a flower bed and the different crops we would grow for the community.

Everything was anchored in meditation and the sisters would guide us through different exercises and techniques, two or three times a day. The rest of the day was spent relaxing, walking in the forest, reading books and drinking tea.

This was more than enough for me, and I was quite happy to stick to the routine, ask questions about Buddhist texts and talk to the monastics. So I didn’t expect anything else to happen, except from feeling relaxed, and decompressing from the stressful city life we lead.

We spent lots of time doing nothing, just staring at the beautiful landscape

Therefore, it was a bit of a shock when this “awakening” of sorts operated on me. We’ve already talked about the ineffable (quite the paradox) and established the impossibility of communicating these ideas. However, I liken the experience to the Greek notion of Pleroma, a feeling of fullness, completeness.

As many of these experiences go, it didn’t last long. As soon as I became conscious of the event, I started thinking about it, and then it was gone. By trying to put words on it, I came crashing down back to earth, not really sure of what to do next.

Now, I didn’t really tell anybody about this experience, because I never found a way to communicate it without coming off completely delirious and unhinged. So I thanked the Universe instead, touched the earth in appreciation, and went for a walk in the woods.

The aftermath was fantastic. I didn’t “stay connected” if you will, but grazing the Logos with the tip of my fingers was enough fuel to keep me in an alert and alive mode, and also realize how far we are from these modes in “normal” life.

I learned a lot from this experience and I hope to visit the village again, someday. One of the key mantras I still use to this day is the notion of, “nowhere to go, nothing to do”: just concentrate on the job at hand. By reducing multitasking to one activity, we enjoy this fully. Whether it’s chopping vegetables, walking or brushing your teeth, the monks showed me how to be there, instead of getting lost in my thoughts all the time.

As Master Thich said, life is what happens now. In our society, we’re constantly running towards something, or trying to get something over with, in order to “enjoy” a quiet moment afterward. Thich’s most important contribution has been to desacralize meditation and mindfulness, bringing it into our everyday life. We can be mindful everywhere, all the time: there is no duality between “a stressful life” and “a peaceful mindful moment”, since we carve our future out with our present actions. Running around and being all stressed about “getting stuff over with” in order to “relax” afterward, will only prolong the “running” mode into the “relaxing” mode: you might not do anything “important” or “work related”, but your “relaxation” will just be you doom-scrolling on your phone, getting lost in cascading thoughts or consuming bullshit content on a screen or radio (if you still have one of those).

Nowadays, even though I’ve been swallowed up by the matrix again, I still take time to disconnect and be there. Even in the Metro (or Subway), I’ll sometimes put down my book, turn the music off, and just breathe.

There is nowhere to go, there is nothing to do, but enjoy the Metro ride. So just chill for a second and think about how lucky you are to be here, now, and all the conditions that have to exist for us to be exactly here, right now. If you analyze this mindfully, you’ll realize it’s nothing short of a miracle that we’re on the metro in Paris at this very moment.

By being here, we can come in contact with the ever-changing Logos, the root of life, and we’ll feel happy and at peace.

The huge Bell at the center of the Hamlet

You can find many resources on the Plum Village free app, if you’re interested.