The Bubble

Reflections from my silent retreat

“Oh, I could not do that. I talk too much.”

That is one of the favorite comments I got when I told people I was going on a six day silent meditation retreat. Yes, silent. You arrive, get settled, have the first sit after dinner and then you go silent for the week. You turn in your phone, move more slowly, zip the lip and barely look at anyone. For me, it was complete bliss.

With the passing of our son in August, I have had a lot of chatter in my own mind as well as from the outside from others. It’s mostly been lovely messages and regards, flowers and plants, cards and well wishes. It was just time to get quiet now.

I love to write and talk out my feelings but that is not what everyone does of course. Some people keep things close to the chest. About two days into the retreat we broke into small groups to meet with the Dharma teachers for an hour. It was our hour to talk, ask questions or check in with our practice. We each had time to share while others simply listened. One gentleman really cracked me up with his comments. He was new to mindfulness and said he doesn’t normally talk about his feelings. He commented about how he noticed his judgments of others and said he labeled people throughout the day like “sweaty, hairy guy.” We all chuckled. It’s a common experience when you walk around like zombies and aren’t used to keeping to yourself. Our minds want context. We are curious about others. I said at the end of our group (I always like a little humor), “Now I am wondering how you have labeled all of us in this group?” Ha ha.

Two days later we had our second and last meeting with our group and the other teacher. When I got to the room where we gathered, the only seat left was the one next to this guy so I sat down. I was nervous about the meeting again because the first time I shared, I broke down into tears. I mentioned how I came to the retreat with a lot of grief and it just made me cry. I had not cried too much in my meditations which surprised me but once I opened my mouth it all came flooding in. But I did want to allow what was present to just be there so I waited my turn to share. In the first share I just said I was grateful for the quiet. In this group meeting I talked about how I felt more grounded in my body again. ( I will share more on that in another post.) I cried but oh well. It’s what was there.

But then “the guy” had his turn. The guy who wasn’t used to sharing his feelings and he’s here sitting next to miss “I wear my heart on my sleeve.” But he told a story that blew me away and will stick with me forever.

He said, “at one point, I was just sitting in the cafeteria looking down at a water bubble on the floor. I noticed the reflections from the windows in the bubble, its shape and size.”

Right away I thought, “cool, this guys is getting present.”

Photo by Who’s Denilo ? on Unsplash

Then he continued, “The bubble was so beautiful and I felt myself becoming protective of this bubble. I didn’t want anyone to step on it. I watched as the bubble started to get smaller as it dried up.” He was getting choked up at this point, rubbing his eyes and putting his head down.

“I watched this bubble for about an hour and it basically dried up and disappeared. I understand the impermanence of all things but I started to get really sad. I am going to die some day and be forgotten. Everyone is going to die and be forgotten at some point just like this bubble.” At this point he is in tears. And so was I.

Of course I was thinking about our son. I had just come off a time where I talked with my family about how I wanted to hear more stories or memories about him as the years go on to help keep him “alive” and remembered. This man’s story was truly resonating with me and he had no idea. We were not supposed to comment on one another’s reflections in the group so I sent him loving kindness in my mind. I thought to myself, I hope this man, the one who doesn’t share his feelings much, understands how powerful that story was for me.

As the week went on and came to an end, the teachers helped us break the silence by facing a person next to us in the meditation hall and simple tell them how we feel in our body in this moment. I turned to a woman I had not noticed during the week. We did our exchange. Then we were guided to form a trio of people and we would have three minutes each to share something that really stood out for us during the week. And there was the guy! I turned to look for two people to pair with and there he was. I was so excited to be able to tell him how much his story resonated with me.

We turned our chairs and faced one another. He spoke first and remembered I was in his group. He mentioned the bubble story and that he wouldn’t repeat it since I knew it but said how much he got out of the week. Then the other man shared and then me. I looked to Karl, (finally got his name) and said,

“You know I came to this retreat with a lot of grief and I truly feel I returned to my body. I was very much in my head and I got very grounded with the practice this week of focusing on the body. I am grateful for that. But I also want you to know that your story of the bubble will stay with me for a long time. I have been thinking about death, impermanence and our legacy, so to speak, and you really touched me by sharing your reflections. Sharing your feelings may not be very practiced in you but that share was important and helpful for me. Thank you.”

Afterwards we had time to chat and get to know one another a bit. He told me that by being vulnerable in our group session gave him permission to talk about something more personal. He thanked me for that. Even my form of vulnerability, tears, was helpful for someone. Then he said, I really felt a bit like a jerk when I said I was labeling people but your funny comment at the end made me feel better. And by the way, you were “strong bandana women.” We laughed.

I was reminded once again of the power of sharing stories. We cannot always know who and how someone will hear our story but this guy took a chance and his story gave me such peace and healing. All things, people and experiences ARE impermanent yet there is so much beauty while they are alive AND when they are gone. I don’t think Karl will ever be forgotten by me even if he dies. When I die perhaps, but in some way the impact of his story will stay with all of you reading and so on. That is our legacy. The impact we leave resonates out beyond what we can know so keep being you, keep sharing your stories and just know you matter, here, before, now and beyond.

Namaste,

Kim