Journey to Awakening
At the end of 2016, I was in Beijing looking for answers.
My quest to end my suffering had led me here but I had not found what I was looking for.
My heart felt drawn to meditation, and I had read a few books on the topic.
Yet, I knew I needed a real initiation if I truly wanted to learn about this art.
In December of that year, I packed my bags for a 2 months trip across South-East Asia, most of which I would do alone.
I had intentions of discovering the world, but what I most yearned for, was getting to know myself.
Was it possible to not suffer from anxiety and depression anymore?
Was it possible to be happy and alive?
After a couple of weeks in Cambodia, that left mixed feelings in me, I ventured out to Myanmar, a country that had opened up to the world only a few years prior.
I had studied Burmese history in University and felt a strong calling towards this mysterious country.
Arriving in Rangoon felt like traveling back in time.
The city was relatively modern, though it had no signs of western influence. No shops or places I could relate to.
Rangoon was a world of its own. Yet, all these differences fascinated me.
After a few days in the capital, I made my way to the Thabarwa Meditation Center, where I had signed to be a volunteer.
Thabarwa was like no other place I had ever seen in my life.
3000 people lived there, most of whom were sick or homeless.
The center was managed by a clergy of monks who had created a place where all were welcome for free.
The only “payment” that was required was that you’d meditate 3 times a day.
On top of that, Thabarwa attracted volunteers from all around the world. Some of whom stayed there for years.
In the first hour of my arrival, I heard a volunteer screaming for help.
She had found an old man that had pooped on himself.
I didn’t really think about this. I put down my bag, and together we cleaned the man.
This was my introduction to Myanmar and to the non-ordinary experiences I would have during that month.
My stay in Thabarwa taught me many things about Burmese culture and the way they see life.
I spent time with children in schools, washed old people, went on alm rounds in Rangoon with the monks…
Yet, what I was most interested in where the meditation classes they offered.
The first two teachers I met did not leave a strong impression on me. One felt like he was reading from a text book, and the other like she was a military commander.
A few days later, a monk called Usain arrived.
He had quite a reputation in the center and amongst the volunteers. Many loved his way of teaching.
After our first class, I knew I wanted to learn more from him.
He had a certain aura around him, a radiance.
And fate has funny ways or intervening in such moments.
On the same day, I learned that Usain was going to lead a retreat in the mountains of Myanmar for a week.
We were leaving in two days.
There was no doubt in my mind. I signed up, hoped I would get a place, and a few days later, I was sitting somewhere on the mountains of Myanmar.
This was exactly what I had been seeking. The possibility of learning from a real teacher, one who was walking the path.
The retreat was 7 days long. The days began at 4:30am and ended at 8:00pm.
On the first day of the retreat, I was challenged by the long hours of meditation.
Yet, I felt at home. Somehow, this felt like where I belonged.
Usain inspired us to persist, guiding us with his with his microphone. But more than anything, I was fueled by the desire to find a path out of suffering.
If this was the one, I would give it everything I had.
Where some fellow students had to take breaks during sessions, I stayed locked-in.
I wanted this to work with all my heart.
Some sessions lasted 2 to 3 hours. We did walking meditation, sitting meditation, lying meditation, service meditation, deep breathing meditation…
It was a full initiation into these practices.
A funny anecdote: one day, we meditated lying down for 3 hours in the afternoon. The goal was to not fall asleep. As foreigners, we were asked to lay down near the monks. After an hour or two, one of the monks farted very loudly while we were all struggling to stay awake. I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed as much as that time. What a way to break the silence.
In the middle of the day, we would have talks with Usain where he taught us about Buddhism and we could ask him any question we wanted.
These were intimate moments where I saw Usain as a normal human being with a strong will, built over years of practice.
He had left the conventional world to follow his calling, and he was living it to the fullest. If there was anything as a hardcore monk, he was it.
During this week, I learned something that changed my life forever.
I learned to be aware of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions without reacting to them.
I learned to sit and be still with myself for hours, with no place to run to.
I learned a philosophy and way of life that led out of suffering.
There were hard moments during this retreat. Moments where my mind wanted to run away and leave.
Yet, I still remember that burning desire and passion I felt. The feeling of giving everything you have to a practice.
The reward after 7 days of inner work?
My first real glimpse of inner peace. A feeling that would change my life forever.
This retreat opened my mind to a whole new way of seeing the world.
I experienced an inner reality I had no idea existed.
I discovered a spiritual path that wasn’t dogmatic or asking me to believe blindly.
Buddhism was built on this premise — we will show you the path, but it is up to you to walk it.
After the retreat, I was high on inner peace for a few weeks.
In many ways, I was happier than I had ever been.
But I soon realized that in order to continue feeling this way, I would need to build a daily practice.
Slowly, I learned to meditate daily, starting with 5 minutes, and building up to 20-30 minutes.
A few months later, upon my return to France, I signed up for a much more intense retreat.
A 10-day silent vipassana retreat. 10 hours of meditation a day without speaking.
This second retreat was the most intense experience of my life.
Yet, I still felt this same burning desire within me. The one I had discovered in the mountains of Myanmar.
No matter how painful and scary it got, I stayed. This was my new home and I believed in it with all my soul.
My first retreat in Myanmar opened a new path for me. It showed me a way out of my suffering.
Most of all, it showed me there was a deeper aspect to who I am. One who was striving to connect back to its Source.
In many ways, I believe my second life started that day. There was a life before 21, and one that started in Myanmar.
By no means is this an easy path. But it has heart.
Since that retreat in Myanmar 8 years ago, my life has completely changed.
I understand better my suffering looking back.
I was always trying to fit into a world that did not resonate with my soul.
The most important on a journey to authenticity, is finding out the path that feels true for you.
No one can tell you what that is. You have to look for it. You have to feel it in your heart and bones.
When you are on your path, you will know.
What is your own journey to authenticity?
What chapter are you currently writing?
I love to hear about your experiences, so feel free to message or email me back.
PS: After my second retreat, I was in-between worlds. I did not know how to adjust to my previous life.
I had discovered this inner world I loved, yet, I did not know how to balance it with my outer world.
I felt disconnected from my studies, my friends, my family, and my girlfriend. It was a lonely period where I focused on myself and my inner growth.
It took me years to find ways to blend both worlds.
This is a reminder that the integration after retreats and peak experiences is pivotal.
The real magic happens during your everyday life. Not only in retreats.
“I’m about tearing down the monastery walls and seeing the world as the monastery, as the practice, as the spiritual temple.”
— Zen Master Dennis Genpo Merzel
