I ordained as a Buddhist monk in Myanmar. Here’s what it was like.
At 3:30 AM, the morning bell rang just outside my kuti.
Dtongg!!... Dtongg!!... Dtonnngggg!!!.....
Somewhat reluctantly, I opened my eyes and listened as the sound of the bell faded away into the cold, mountain air. It was still dark out, and would be for another few hours. I definitely didn’t feel like getting out of bed just yet.
As I lay there, cursing the cold, and trying to get the courage to climb out from under my blanket, I wondered just what I had gotten myself into.
I was in a Buddhist monastery in the Sagaing Hills of Myanmar (formerly Burma), on the banks of the Irawaddy river. Far from home, far from comfort.
My kuti (essentially a small wooden hut with a bed) was just one of many other kutis sprinkled throughout the hillside, each one home to a single monk, or nun, or lay person. Each of us had come here for the same reason: to undertake a 21-day silent meditation retreat.
While we all arrived in Myanmar as lay people, we were given the option of ordaining for the duration of the retreat if we wished to do so. Seven of us, four men and three women, chose to ordain. Of course, to become a monk or nun, you have to shave your head. Luckily I had beat them to it. But not everyone is so blessed in the hair department as I am!
In the rest of this post, I'll be sharing with you some brief notes of what it was like on this retreat.
A (modified) monk’s life
It's important to understand that my time as a monk was not necessarily typical of a monk's life in Myanmar. Monks don’t usually spend all their time sitting in silence. In fact, monasteries in Asia can be quite noisy and bustling places.
Monks typically have many chores to do around the monastery. They sweep, they clean, they fix broken things. It can actually be quite physically demanding at times. Monks also typically are required to go on alms rounds each day – walking through the surrounding towns and villages with an alms bowl, collecting food donations.
However, when a monk chooses to go on a silent retreat (or perhaps is instructed to do so by the head monk) they are excused from their duties, so that they can instead focus their energy on meditation.
As I was going into a period of silent retreat, I was given permission by the abbot of the monastery to be exempt from the daily tasks such as sweeping and cleaning. Instead of going out for alms rounds each morning, I was able to partake in the food that was offered directly to the monastery.
A temporary ordination
In some religions, when you become a monastic, it’s meant to be for the rest of your life. In Myanmar, however, it’s a different story. You can do what’s called a “temporary ordination,” becoming a monk for as short as just a few weeks or months.
The reason you can do this is that, for the people of Myanmar, every moment you spend practicing meditation and living ethically is bringing good merit into the world. So, in their eyes, if you want to spend a few weeks as a monk or a nun, why not? It will make the world a happier place.
In Myanmar, most young men will ordain for at least a while at some point in their lives. It is almost a rite of passage for young men. I may not be so young any more, but I did indeed feel as though I were going through a rite a passage, at least personally.
The "rules" of a silent retreat
As a lay practitioner (meaning, a meditator who is neither a monk nor a nun), one has to undertake eight precepts when going on retreat. These are
To refrain from harming other living beings
To refrain from taking what is not freely offered
To refrain from sexual misconduct (on retreat this gets upgraded to complete celibacy)
To refrain from false speech (on retreat this gets upgraded to not speaking altogether)
To refrain from taking intoxicants that lead to carelessness
To refrain from eating past noon each day
To refrain from adorning the body, and listening to or playing music
To refrain from using high and luxurious beds
When you ordain, the number of precepts increases. If you are a monk, you undertake 227 precepts, while nuns have a whopping 311. And if your inner social-justice warrior is starting to get a little fired up by the fact that women have extra precepts, then I don't blame you.
My personal feeling is that there are still many ways in which Buddhism has still lagged behind the west when it comes to understanding of issues related to gender equality and social justice. In another post I'll have to tell you about how I taught the word "patriarchy" to the head monk during one of my interviews!
Fortunately, I was informed that I didn't have to worry too much about the extra 219 precepts, as there's almost no way I could break those rules while on silent retreat.
Noble Silence
Aside from an occasional check-in with the head monk or one of the meditation teachers, I was to remain in “noble silence” for the full 21 days, not speaking to anyone. Many people think this is one of the hardest parts of going on retreat, but honestly once you do it, you realize it's not only easy, but also it’s one of the things you look forward to the most about going on retreat.
Committing to “noble silence” is not just about not speaking, but about cutting off all forms of communication. Obviously, checking CNN, or logging in to Facebook to check your messages is completely off-limits! I had given up all my possessions when I ordained anyway, so that wouldn't have been possible, even if I wanted to (which at times I desperately did!).
Instead, I spent all my time, roughly 18 hours a day, practicing a style of meditation called vipassana, or insight meditation. Vipassana is the main practice of Theravada Buddhism, and has mindfulness meditation at its core. Vipassana literally means "seeing clearly into the nature of things," particularly, into the nature of body and mind.
This act of clear seeing leads to insight into what Buddhists call the three marks of existence: impermanence, dissatisfaction (or suffering), and non-self. Insight into these three marks of existence is what leads to liberation and freedom.
The daily schedule
As we had gotten rid of all our regular distractions (like phones, computers, books, snacks, etc), there wasn't much to do except meditate. It was a grueling schedule, and not for the faint of heart!
We woke each day at 3:30 AM, and, after getting dressed, headed out for a period of walking meditation in the freezing-cold, morning air. The rest of the day alternated between an hour of sitting meditation and an hour of walking meditation. We wouldn't finish until close to 11pm each night.
The monotony of the schedule was broken up by our two meals of the day, breakfast at 5:45 AM, and lunch at 10:30 AM. Being on the 8 precepts, we were not allowed to eat past midday, and so lunch was our final meal of the day.
Most evenings we also got to listen to a short talk by one of the meditation teachers or the head monk. This would usually be on some aspect of the practice that was meant to help or inspire us. Aside from the meals, this was our only real form of "entertainment", so it was usually looked forward to with much anticipation!
My favorite time of day
Each morning around 6:30 AM, after eating breakfast, we had a short break before the next sitting period started. My favorite thing to do at this time was to walk up along a small path, to a place overlooking the river. From here I could hear the birds chirping in their nests, and I could see fishermen gearing up their boats for the day ahead. And most beautiful of all, I could sit and watch the sunrise.
Was it difficult?
Of course it was! It was excruciatingly painful at times!
But would I do it again? Heck yes! And in fact, I hope to go again next year.
Going on silent retreat is always difficult for me. I always have anxiety before going in, hoping it will go "well" and worrying about what if it doesn't. And during the retreat, I always go through massive mood swings, emotional ups and downs, and self-judgemental temper-tantrums. But honestly, that's kind of the point.
All of that happens in my day-to-day life anyway, and being on a meditation retreat is simply a chance to observe it (hopefully with a little bit of patience and kindness).
I've found for myself that being present for my emotional distress (which is exactly what we are asked to do on retreat) is the only way to find true relief from the suffering it causes. It's a deep kind of relief, because it comes from learning how to be OK with discomfort.. rather than trying to find ways to avoid discomfort (which we all know never lasts).
And if you're reading this and feel like you might be interested in doing a retreat, but you're not sure where to start, just send me a message and I'll help you find a good one!
Of course, there's so much more that I could tell you about becoming a monk, and what the retreat was like. This is by no means be a comprehensive review of monastic life, or of what a meditation retreat is like. Rather, consider this just a basic overview, something to whet your appetite.
If there's something you'd like to hear more about, just ask! I'd be happy to answer your questions in the next blog post.
Until then, take care.