DISCLAIMER: Even though this post is rather long, this is the extremely summarized version of my experience. Many details have been left out to save you hours of reading time. “Thank you, Talen!” You’re welcome.
Part II: The Monk And The Mind – Calmness Is Power
“Self-control is strength, right thought is mastery, and calmness is power.” These heart striking words are from the well known and thoroughly studied book, As A Man Thinketh by James Allen. The first time I read those words a couple years ago, there was no disagreement. However, I had one longing question that kept resurfacing in my mind over and over again: how do I obtain those qualities and skills? And not only obtain, but how do I build and transmute them into my character and become a man of true strength, mastery and power?
After countless hours, days and months of study, I realized this was taking too long. At the rate I was going (even though I was relentlessly studying and learning everyday) and with how much I was curious about, I would never breakthrough that higher level of ultimate power on my own. I needed to tap into another stream of consciousness. I needed to tap into another source that couldn’t be found in books, podcasts, videos or among common knowledge. I had to think bigger and start reaching into the uncommon. Into the unknown. I had to do something that no one I knew had done in order to achieve the laughable and absurd answers and results I was looking for. And then finally one day I woke up and said, “I need to live with a monk.”
Fast forward through some big risks, leaps of faith, and absolute insanity (and the Buddhist’s gracious acceptance of allowing me to come live and study with them), I found myself with a ONE WAY ticket to the Buddhist Monastery found deep within the Trinity Forest. Even though I had done some thorough research and I assumed that I had a good grip of what I was hurling myself into, what I did not anticipate was the emotional challenge. As soon as I left to embark on what seemed like an innocent journey, I was hit with an uncomfortable surge of fear. What in the hell was I doing? Why am I leaving everything I am familiar with, and why in the world did I buy a freakin one way ticket!!? After what seemed like a looooong plane ride, a lot of transitions and an even longer train ride up into nowhere, I found myself standing by myself at 5 AM outside a tiny train station from the 1800’s. I couldn’t tell if my twisted gut was just absolute fear taking over my body, or if it was instant regret. At this point it didn’t matter. There was no going back. As I was shuttled into the Abbey by a female monk who literally looked like Satan off of The Passion of the Christ with her shaved head (no offense to her), the fear only increased. Absolutely EVERYTHING was foreign to me; the dress, the lifestyle, the constant and deafening silence I quickly discovered (the majority of time spent in the monastery is completely silent), the food, and most of all, the excruciatingly long hours of perfectly still and quiet meditation.
The monastic community I lived with studied Sōtō Zen, or Shikantaza, which translates to "Silent Illumination", or "Serene Reflection". Unlike many other forms of meditation, Shikantaza does not require focused attention on a specific object (such as the breath, mantras, or visualization); instead, practitioners "just sit" in a state of conscious awareness. And when I say, “just sit”, I mean exactly as it sounds. You sit in front of a wall with your head down at a 45 degree angle, you pick a point, and you sit and stare in silence with your eyes open and your hands cupped together resting on your groin. You don’t move, you don’t scratch an itch, you don’t look around, and you dont think. To ease into my first meditation, the Monks had me meditate for ONLY 30 minutes. Yeah, ease into it they said. I would be utterly and belligerently lying if I didn’t state that that 30 minute meditation literally felt like 3 ½ hours. Everything about it was not just uncomfortable, but painful. And keep in mind that up to this point I had consistently been meditating (or what I thought was meditating) every morning for the last year or so. As I tried to battle out that 30 minute session, my mind was starting to hallucinate. I thought I felt spiders crawling on my neck and back. My body would then twitch and a mosquito started to buzz around my right ear. My back ached from sitting upright in that position for so long, my neck started to strain, and my mind was rampant, running a thousand miles an hour thinking I just might die. I remember thinking to myself, “I am crazy. This was the dumbest decision ever. This sucks. I honestly don’t think I can do this. I have done a lot of hard things in my life, but this is just ridiculous. AND IT IS ONLY THE FIRST DAY!! Sh*t.”
My friends, we can extract a very delicate and subtle lesson from my first meditation with the monks. Here is the lesson: YOU HAVE TO SIT IN THE CHAOS LONG ENOUGH TO ESTABLISH ORDER. It is in that very moment of chaos that the paradoxical beauty of life begins to creep in. It is that pivotal moment in life when you have the opportunity to level up. Everyone has it. I have had it many, many times. The only difference now is that I am more self-aware and I can recognize that moment quicker and step into it with more courage. Let me describe this ‘moment’ I speak of, and as I do, think to yourself if (when) you have experienced this. You might even be in the thick of it as we speak. Here it is: You are face-to-face with a big decision, but the outcome is unknown. Quite frankly, it’s 50/50. It could go either way. You have fear breathing down your neck, twisting your gut, and the fog of discomfort and uncertainty is getting stronger and stronger and gaining momentum with every anxiety crippling thought that punches through the invincible fortress you have attempted to build up in your mind to keep you safe from unknown threats. You are absolutely scared to death. If you make the wrong decision, you will fail! (If only you had read my first post about failure huh?) You see, humans avoid that which they do not understand, out of fear. It’s actually a survival mechanism built into your nervous system to keep you safe and to help you survive. There is a protective barrier in your brain that keeps painful and difficult to face material (that is stored in the subconscious) from percolating up to the conscious mind where it could then interfere with day to day functioning. Amazing! Right? Well there is always a trade-off. Unfortunately, this barrier also keeps us from accessing inner resources in the subconscious which would greatly help us to deal with day-to-day functioning if we were able to tap into it. So if you want to thrive, this barrier becomes a thwarting and a growth-sabotaging monster.
So in order to thrive, we need to penetrate beyond the conscious level where only “reasonable or rational” thinking is allowed as society puts it, to reach the powerful energy of the subconscious. To do this you need to enter into a state of relaxation that is deep enough to lower or penetrate the barrier. But before you can lower the barrier, you have to get past the ultimate gatekeeper: Fear. If you want to grow and progress, you have to suffocate and collapse your fear. And the only antidote to fear is action. To run head on, full force into the gaping jaws of fear, DESPITE how scared you are. If you make the choice to stay safe and avoid the discomfort, your Soul will actually begin to wither and die which will be unconscious to you at first. There is no such thing as stagnation in human energetic evolution. Either you are growing or you are shrinking. Expanding or contracting. As Einstein said, “everything is energy and that’s all there is to it. This is not philosophy. This is physics.” Energy is constantly vibrating and it never stops. So you are either moving forward or you are falling backwards. Life moves and teaches in patterns, cycles and seasons; so if you attempt to remain in your little bubble and hold on tight to what is familiar, you are in for an unpleasant awakening. If you opt out of facing your fear now, you will face a similar decision once again in the near future, for all lessons we do not learn we repeat. And trust me, those lessons get more and more inescapable and louder as time progresses. When you give into fear, you give it power over you. Over time as that power gets stronger and stronger, it can become really hard to cut those cords and reclaim your power. So do yourself a favor and make a declaration to never give into your fear again. The moment you see something you fear, head straight towards it. Fear is your compass. GO TOWARDS THAT WHICH YOU FEAR. As Robin Sharma so poetically states, “discomfort is simply growth in wolf’s clothing.” Choose the harder decision. Choose the uncertainty and discomfort. Possibility can only be birthed in uncertainty. Take a leap of faith and choose that which you fear.
Now, back to me wrestling in mental agony in the middle of the Buddhist hall surrounded by 26 monks and their shining, shaved heads… The current circumstances forced me to make a decision. It’s always been my life motto that if I am going to do something, then I am going to fully immerse myself in the relentless pursuit of that thing until I get the desired results. Period. I am not a quitter and never will be. So in that moment I grew a pair of balls and I stuck to my values and I repeated to myself, “Talen, I don’t care how hard this is, or how long this goes on, I am going to see it through. I am going to show up in the arena.” It’s not about who we are today, it is about who we want to become. I was there to transform and to achieve an elite level of strength, mastery and power, and that comes at a cost. No great thing comes without great sacrifice. So the real question in that moment wasn’t, “when is this freakin meditation going to end?”. The real question was, “what price am I willing to pay to get to where I want to be?” I came here to learn secrets from the master, so I am going to do what the monks do, no matter what. And that is exactly what I did.
When the monks woke at 4:45AM every morning and meditated for long periods of time, I did the same. When my back hurt, and my mind went crazy, I embraced it. I sat in the vast silence, and I forced myself to face the gnawing discomfort. When the monks ate their simple vegetarian diet in graceful and meditative silence, I did the same. When they gave Dharma talks and shared their wisdom, I listened intently. I moved how they moved, I acted how they acted, and I let go of my familiarities and pre-conceived notions and I continued to let the flow of synchronized uncertainty guide me. I did this hour after hour, day after day. Around the fourth day of doing this, I began to witness something very foreign; very subtle at first but undoubtedly incredible and beyond words. I am a bit emotional as I write this and think back to my time with the monks because this blog doesn’t even come close to describing my experience. What I began to witness is what I would describe as an invisible joy; a very real and tangible bliss, but imperceptible to the physical eye. This frequency of bliss was not dependent on anything. It did not emerge as a result or byproduct of anything external. It was purely internal. When I first recognized and became aware of it, it seemed to unconsciously ooze and radiate from my Soul, then to my heart, to my mind, to my body, and then to those around me. This joyous energy was constant and unwavering. It was equanimous. It was not a surge or a high of good feelings, soon to be let down and counteracted by a crash and a low. It wasn’t even a feeling. It wasn’t a good mood of elevated emotions. It was this consistent happy presence in all places at all times. In the morning, while doing labor and chopping wood, in the evenings during more meditation, and ongoing throughout the night as I prepared for sleep. Hour after hour. Day after day. I would wake up expecting the feeling to be gone, that perhaps it was just a good day I had experienced, but the feeling never disappeared. It was something I have never experienced in my life, and I am not a person who is unfamiliar as pertaining to things spiritual. And yet, this was so alien to me. It was a “thing” I knew existed and had read or heard about, but never actually thought was practical in our modern and constant changing and stimulating world. Some things you can never truly know until you experience and achieve them firsthand. That was when I finally understood that annoying phrase that everyone so superficially and casually spit out of their mouths:
“Everything you need is already inside you.”
I couldn’t tell you the exact formula in order to reproduce what I just attempted to describe. It’s a combination of a specific neurochemical cocktail, an unprecedented amount of mental discipline to focus your thoughts, an unwavering determination and an iron will to keep going, and the simple willingness to do hard things. Part of this bliss and joy I felt came from my own personal satisfaction and fulfillment towards what I was achieving and how fucking hard it was (apologize for the language… but it needed emphasis). I remember the feeling of getting through my first few meditations when the gong would sound and being so proud of myself. I think it was borderline disbelief. Did I really just sit there and stare at the wall for an hour? Perfectly still, guiding my thoughts to nothingness, despite the aches, pains, and the horrifically annoying mosquito buzzing in my ear and landing on my neck the moment the gong rung to start the meditation. It was so difficult that the simple reward of having honorably finished was exhilarating. I was starting to push myself in a way I never had. I realized that I was more capable and powerful than I had foreto known. It became addicting. I literally jumped out of bed in a controlled (and silent) excitement every morning to go meditate. It was a chance to push myself. To discover how far I could push my boundaries and limitations, only to realize there were none. The only limitations are those you agree to in your mind (Dayyyum I’m putting that one on Tumblr). Doing hard things literally produced happiness in my life and it contributed to the overall mystical presence of that blissful joy I was thrown into.
As time passed with the monks I consistently meditated about 4-5 hours every day. At first it was near impossible and seemed like a complete joke, perhaps even abuse. By the end of my time with the monks, it was normal. It was now familiar. In fact, I now didn’t know how I could live a daily life WITHOUT these practices. Having discovered the joy that was possible and abundantly infinite if you can just align and tap into it, how could I live a life otherwise? And that’s when it dawned on me; I had just undergone yet another transformation. I had indeed leveled up. My choice to control myself and exercise discipline in all areas rewarded me with strength. My ability to control my thoughts and focus my pure intentions on that which I want, as opposed to my subconscious mind and thoughts controlling me, has put me in the driver's seat. I am now on the road towards mastery and I determine the trajectory. And the chance to practice and incorporate stillness and silence at all moments with the monks gave birth to a power that is beyond anything I have ever achieved; Calmness. The ability to be self-controlled. To train my mind and my energy to focus it exactly where I want it and when I want it to be. A power that is completely detached and undeterred from external ups and downs. A power that enables me to navigate anything that seems both tough and challenging, as well as fun and exciting, with the same amount of balance in equanimity. Without being too excited in pleasure and the highs of my life, or being too depressed in pain. Knowing how to navigate every situation and recognizing that everything in life is impermanent.
On my last day with the monks, in my very last meditation, I was hit with an extremely pressing and specific thought and feeling. The process of Zen meditation is to let your thoughts go and focus on nothing, so I continued over and over again to release this specific thought, but to no avail. I then began to feel my gut twist, and the thought and emotion began to align and as if in unison, began to just yell at me. I could no longer keep releasing it. I have always viewed myself as a generous person (whether or not that's true, that’s what I told myself), and I have always believed that you get what you give. God and the Universe has a funny way of testing and holding you to your beliefs by crystallizing them through action. I had a very distinct and specific set of words in thought-form that came to my mind. It said, “Talen, if you really believe you are generous, put it into action. Give EVERYTHING you have to the monastery.” Believe the source of this thought what you will. Be it God, The Holy Spirit, The Universe, Energy, my own rampant human and imperfect brain, or even hallucination. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is this thought was there and it kept coming with more and more force, and that I can’t deny. It caused a real predicament in my life. My good ole’ pal had returned. His name is FEAR.
What caused even MORE FEAR is the knowledge of my relationship with fear. I believe to the utter core of my soul that I must do that which I fear, for growth is one of my highest values. Well… shit. Without even agreeing to the outcome of even contemplating the consequences of this action, I already knew deep down that I had (not forced, it was definitely my choice. I could have chosen to not give anything. When I say had, I mean that because of my beliefs and values around growth, I was now personally accountable to myself to face the fear and do it) to give everything I had to the monastery. Remember, I bought a one-way ticket. I had quit my job. Everything I didn’t sell was stored away, far, far away. I was as vulnerable as you could be. And now I was thinking about giving everything else I had away? HOW WOULD I SURVIVE?? Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to give back. The monks had truly changed my life. If there was anyone or anything that I wanted to donate everything to, it would be this cause, especially since they rely and live purely on donations. I felt like I owed them in a sense because of what I learned. I was forever grateful. But everything? That seems a bit extreme. I wrestled back and forth with this “thought”, which in a way seemed like I was communicating with my higher self, the more wise and purified future Talen. In real time it was probably about 10-14 minutes that I struggled with this in deep meditation. I tried to cut a deal and compromise. “I won’t give everything, but I will give a lot, okay? You take 70% which should be more than enough for the monastery, and I will take 30%! No? Okay fine I’ll just take 20%... 10% please?” And as I neared the end of this struggle, I understood. It wasn’t about the money. The monks didn’t need my money. They have been taken care of long before me, and will be around long after me. It went much deeper than that. Everything I had learned in my life, let alone the monastery, came down to this critical decision. “Talen, if you really believe that everything you need is inside you, then you will be more than fine. Your beliefs don’t make you a better person; your actions do. So, how strong is your belief, and how much do you trust?” Just like all the other pivotal moments in my life, I now had to make a decision. And again, I decided on the harder choice. And again, I chose to run full speed towards my fear.
As my last day came to a close filled with emotional bitter-sweet moments, I quietly and anonymously donated everything I had through their donation process, said my sweet goodbyes and thank-you’s to all the beautiful and wonderful human beings who had become my monk friends, and I walked out the front gates of the Abbey with a big backpack on my back and a duffel bag in hand, and I hit the road. It was time to take everything I learned in the monastery, and now apply it outside of the monastery. In the real world. Preparation and training was now over. It was time to enter the battlefield and prove what I was made of. And what rougher a place and once again, more unfamiliar, than the streets with the homeless. I had given away everything, so I actually didn’t have much of a choice. I really was homeless with nowhere to go, no money for food or drink, and no idea how I was going to survive. I had no expectations, which really was the only way I could look at it. As Archilocus said:
“We don’t rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.”
And that, I did have going for me. Serendipitously, it was the perfect scenario to put to the test my self-control over body and mind, my ability to remain calm in dire situations, and the opportunity once again to conquer fear.
[To be continued in Part III: 13 True Desires That I Uncovered By Living On The Streets For 37 Days] - COMING SOON