# Vipassana Retreat at Wat Ram Poeng

At the end of September 2023, I sent a letter inquiring whether the temple would be conducting Vipassana meditation during the upcoming Chinese New Year period. Fortunately, there were still available slots, so I immediately booked an expensive ticket for the Chinese New Year. This was not a sudden idea; I can only say that everything was destined to happen: I knew I would take this trip since I started learning Thai; perhaps it was from the motorcycle trip around the island in 2019, where I met a friend who was preparing to go to a "silent retreat in Thailand" (his convenient term at the time); or perhaps it was from my deceased mother, as spending holidays with my mother attending parent-child meditation classes was a regular part of my childhood (even though I didn't like it at the time, thinking that the children's meditation class teaching the disciple's rules was just a daycare service for adult practice). After booking the ticket, I put this matter aside. The ten-day Vipassana course, to be honest, didn't feel real until the day before departure.

The routine in the temple was very regular:
- 04:00 - Wake-up bell
- 04:20 - Morning chanting
- 06:30 - Breakfast
- 10:30 - Lunch
- 15:00 - Reporting to the teacher
- 17:00 - Light refreshments
- 22:00 - Bedtime


I only slept for six hours a day, and it was not allowed to sleep during the day, except for meals and reporting. The rest of the time was dedicated to walking meditation and sitting meditation. Walking meditation involved placing awareness on each step, knowing when the left/right foot was stepping forward. Later, more breakpoints were added, such as lifting the heel, lifting the leg, moving the foot forward, straightening the knee, touching the ground with the toes, touching the ground with the heel. The goal was not to let the body operate out of habit but to have profound awareness in each step. Sitting meditation involved placing awareness on the rising and falling of the abdomen. Later, twenty-some touchpoints were gradually added, and between breaths, one had to sequentially imagine a point the size of a ten-baht coin touching the body.


In my understanding, these two practices were like finding a continuous and repeatable action amidst endless changes to serve as a reference. Because consciousness cannot control anything, not even one's own body. Even if in the last moment one was still "lifting the leg," in the next moment, perhaps a waft of flower scent passed by, and the body automatically entered its habitual operating mode: maybe thinking about what familiar fragrance it was, maybe entering a memory, maybe thinking about the past and having emotions, maybe thinking about the future and starting to contemplate. This is impermanence, deeply realizing that even the body is not completely controlled by consciousness. Therefore, Vipassana is not about controlling the body to maintain a cycle of walking or sitting; it's about stopping when the body starts to operate on its own and observing. Understanding what it's doing, just like feeling the leg lift, synchronizing consciousness with the body. If feeling sad, silently acknowledge the sadness in your heart; if thinking, silently acknowledge the thoughts in your mind; if feeling sleepy, silently acknowledge the sleepiness; if feeling sore, silently acknowledge the soreness. Once noticing that the body is not in sync with consciousness, stop and observe. The magical thing is, when no longer resisting these "unexpected interruptions" but coexisting with them, they will dissipate. They may come back, but after repeated instances, the frequency will decrease until the body no longer automatically triggers reactions. This is what I learned from this journey, and I came to a deeper understanding that knowledge and actual practice are entirely different.


Originally, I was supposed to stay in the temple for ten days, but I left on the ninth day. One reason was that I felt like I had already gained enough, and on the other hand, I felt that the time left for local sightseeing was really too short (the return flight was on the eleventh day at noon, originally scheduled to leave the temple in the afternoon of the tenth day). I regretted this arrangement and should have taken two more days off.


As for what I gained? On the afternoon of the seventh day, after learning two touchpoints, I seemed to experience the feeling of absorption. The afternoon was usually a better time, after eating for a while, the body was less likely to feel drowsy. This time during meditation, drowsiness arose, so I observed the drowsiness. However, this was the first time in these few days that I observed drowsiness until it disappeared (it was very easy to observe and then fall asleep). At this point, the body naturally entered a state where there was no pain, the rise and fall of the breath also reached a slow but very aware level, every inch of the skin of the body seemed to be breathing, and the movement of the touchpoints was smooth. It was a calm and very happy state. Although the teacher often reminded us to stop and silently acknowledge whatever we observed, when I first entered this state, I stayed for a while before remembering that I should stop and silently acknowledge "happiness" at this moment. Unfortunately, before the happiness disappeared, the timer went off.

Actually, after finishing this meditation, my initial thought was not about absorption but about whether this was what the East called "qi"; separating obstacles turned out to be this feeling; this kind of happiness was indeed something I had never experienced in this life. I believe that if I had stayed for 28 days, I would have definitely gained more, but thinking that it was only one day away, I could continue to practice after returning to Taiwan. Perhaps the famous Chiang Mai Sunday Night Market would be more worth visiting, so I decided to tell the master about leaving early the next day.


The feeling of that day did not come after overcoming the desire for sleep. In fact, before this, I cried every day. Here, someone would start crying from time to time because there were really few opportunities to observe the body's habits so directly and rigorously.

Before meals, there was always a verse recitation reflecting on food: "I eat not for pleasure, not for adornment, but only to relieve the discomfort of hunger and not to arouse new sensations (overeating)." One day, I cried a lot because of this verse.

During outdoor walking meditation, there were many creatures flying around. One day, I saw dragonflies mating. The male dragonfly would tightly hold the head of the female dragonfly and fly together. This made me think of the various pains I had suffered and caused to others due to my habits arising from sexual desire. I felt very sad, and tears welled up.

Once, because my legs were too sore and numb, feeling that this body was really suffering, after resting, I took a sip of hot pumpkin soup and felt warmth. Feeling the impermanence of the body, I felt really miserable and cried for a long time in the dining area.

One evening, I saw a cat. As it began to walk, I wanted to share it with my girlfriend, but then I thought about the day when our fate would eventually end, and I began to fear the impermanence. This should be the time when I cried the most and felt the deepest (the day before, the teacher asked me if I was afraid of anything, and I said no). Actually, I was distracted all day and felt inexplicably upset, neither observing the distractions nor the sadness until the evening when I truly realized it.


Gradually, I fell into a state with less regret and sadness. I no longer thought about the future often; the future was often linked to desires, but later, it gradually disappeared (when I first entered, I was completely dominated by sexual and food desires, but later they almost disappeared). Originally, I felt annoyed by Chinese people who talked a lot, or by the chanting of the nuns, etc., but after these obstacles gradually disappeared, I no longer had doubts about the practice methods; until the last sleep, I followed the teacher's instructions not to drink coffee, observed properly, and finally separated the feeling of sleepiness from the act of sleeping. Only then did I have the opportunity to glimpse at the joy of meditation, which was achieved after more than fifty hours of cleaning.


There was actually a reason why I decided to go to Wat Ram Poeng. There are also Vipassana centers in Taiwan, but the facilities, both hardware and software, are much inferior. Accommodation: Wat Ram Poeng has single-person suites, while Taiwan has dormitories for shared living. Teachings: Wat Ram Poeng has masters giving bilingual teachings in Chinese and English, while Taiwan plays cassette tapes. Food: The self-service Thai cuisine at Wat Ram Poeng is really excellent. Environment: Looking at the photos, the environment at Wat Ram Poeng is truly peaceful...


The food at Wat Ram Poeng was very rich and delicious. During meal distribution, there were always two options (vegetarian and non-vegetarian), and you could ask for more if you wanted. Here's a breakdown of the meals:
- Breakfast: A bowl of noodle soup, and every day for the nine days, the flavor was different, with noodles made from cellophane, rice, or flour.
- Lunch: There was always basic white rice and purple rice, as well as stir-fried noodles (also different noodles and flavors every day), and the side dishes usually consisted of two hot dishes (commonly curry + stewed vegetables, sometimes a third or even fourth dish), a salad, and a dessert (fruit or small cake). If someone made a donation, there would be various foods and drinks from outside.
- Snacks: All were liquid foods, such as green bean soup (where green beans were ground into powder), soy milk (sometimes with or without sugar), chocolate milk, and pumpkin soup (very thick and delicious, which made me cry).

I also want to mention the Buddhist holy day. In Thailand, as long as it's a new moon, half moon, or full moon, it's a Buddhist holy day, so there are four of them every month. Therefore, a ten-day Vipassana course will encounter at least one holy day. Depending on the lunar phase, the morning activities were different every day, but in the evening, there would be circumambulation around the stupa for blessings and dedication. The teacher said that when Thai people circumambulate the stupa, everyone silently wishes to share their energy with everyone else, and after circumambulating, they can make wishes; the energy is very strong. Participants in the Vipassana course could choose to participate freely in the circumambulation ceremony, and I did not miss this rare opportunity. The energy of the circumambulation ceremony was indeed very strong. I made a wish along with the energy, hoping that all beings could be free from hatred, and also hoping that even after leaving, I would continue to practice and increase wisdom, after all, wishes are not granted just by making them.


On the morning of leaving the temple, after breakfast, the teacher conducted a closing ceremony for me. I packed my luggage, cleaned my room, returned bed sheets and other items, and then went to the temple store to buy two packs of incense that my friends asked me to buy. The store owner looked at me in surprise and said, "Leaving so soon? Going back already?" I nodded, and she said, "See you next time!" and gave me a hug, as if she knew I would come back. I returned to the office for foreigners, asked the teacher about the practice methods at home, paid my respects three times, สาธุ (satu), and called Bolt to go to the next accommodation.

On the way, I thought that after staying in the temple for so long, I might find the outside world noisy? But actually, I didn't. It was just that there was really a lot of information. Yes, the world is impermanent, but looking at the cars, shops, and various facilities in the city, anything that exists will affect this world as long as it is on this planet. I cannot say whether this is good or bad, but all of this is a miracle. A feeling of being moved arose.

When I arrived at the hotel, the receptionist asked me, "Is this your first day in Chiang Mai?" I said, "Not really, I just came back from Wat Ram Poeng," and he said, "Welcome back!" I don't know why, but I was particularly touched by this sentence, "Welcome back."


Writing up to this point, it has been a week since I came back. Honestly, there hasn't been much difference in my life direction after returning. It's still about going to work and waiting for the weekend, but it seems that I understand this body more, knowing when it's angry, knowing when it's tired, knowing when it's happy, so I know and don't resist or interpret it selfishly. Mutual respect has become a new habit, so I can understand, so I can unfold new miracles. Just like going to yoga on Wednesday, I finally understood what it meant to stretch without forcing it, and I understood what the teacher had been saying: "Your tendons are actually soft enough." Originally, whenever I felt uncomfortable, I would let the habit of resistance take over, thinking that I couldn't relax; after learning to feel it, every breath became a process of understanding the body. It turns out that this body can reach this point.

It's great. This trip was really great.