A Knight s Tale They ve been

A Knight s Tale

They ve been getting tricky recently, those tickly nose hairs. Maybe I ve passed the stage of easy hair management? Maybe I ve started the glorious depilatory journey where the hair you want abandons you to leave only the generous fountains sprouting from ears, nose and Oops, lost it. Ok, back to the nose hair: inwards, outwards, inwards, outwards. Theres a part of the mind thats like one of those machines that spits tennis balls, but loaded with utterly random idea-objects. I sit getting fired at, mentally swatting them away: nope, not following that inhale, no, theres another one, back to the nose hair. Suddenly I find myself on the other side of the room, engrossed in a thought, wandering how on earth I had ended up thinking about Madonna s castle in Scotland. Dropping it I retake my seat and start fending them off again. Little by little the time spent seated with my breath is growing longer and the mental meanderings shorter and less frequent. It seems a little odd, these solemn instructions, session after session the same, to focus on the nose for hours at a time. Yet this is training with a serious end: developing our ability to observe reality as it is. We are sharpening our awareness of our physical sensations, the first half of the Vipassana technique. Meet angry Mike. I ve had to. It is day four and I m seething. We ve settled into the routine, rising in the dark at 4am to the sound of the bell that will call us to the meditation hall seven more times that day: two hours before breakfast, three before lunch, four before evening tea and an hour plus a talk in the evening. Blessed ten minute breaks split the long blocks into separate sessions, three of which are group meditations guided by the digital Goenke. All this is conducted in absolute silence. I have decided that the Noble Silence is so called because we would otherwise be extremely ignoble. Without communication to smooth the inevitable ruffles of life together my character is having full reign to reveal its ugly undersides the petty judgements, easy afronts and, frankly, violence. This is one effect of the combined silence and awareness training: you begin to notice so many thoughts that are normally hidden in the tumult. They arrive in my head and instead of passing unnoticed and unchecked a little bell goes off: Ping: Judgement, Ping: Anger. Please don t get the wrong idea, I m not a surpressed axe murderer. These are sadly normal, judgements like Can t he see how ugly those trousers are or How dare he take the next washing-up sink when we re waiting here patiently. Pointless and petty and popping up all the time. Realisation of how far I have to go?: check. This background mental agression has risen to a crescendo in days three and four because: these b keep making me sit for hours, again and again and again! This never stops.