This is an account of a 10 day meditation retreat I attended in January 2025. The technique presented at this course comes in the form of two distinct forms. The first technique (Anapana) is designed to build the required concentration and attentional sensitivity necessary to become aware of bodily sensation with enough detail to observe its inherent characteristics. Once the minimum capacity for concentration has been achieved, the (Vipassana) technique instructs the practitioner to employ their refined attention and begin scanning the body in a systematic way with the goal to notice and observe every sensation present, with as much detail as possible, while noticing each sensation’s inherent characteristics. The natural result of this procedure, performed correctly, is equanimity.

While this technique is generally quite safe and gentle (while still being quite challenging and painful at times) I made several errors in judgement in which I deviated from the practice instructions. This combined by an inadvertent incorrect application of the technique produced several unforeseen experiences, many of which could have been quite dangerous.

One point of information for the reader: There are three categories of sensation a practitioner might come across in their investigation. These are gross sensations, subtle sensations and blank spaces. We are all familiar with gross sensations such as heat, cold, tightness, heaviness, tension, throbbing, aching, etc. These appear as solid and impenetrable objects within our field of perception. Upon closer examination, however, one finds that all gross sensations are made up of much smaller subtle sensations which are the size of a pin-prick and are constantly popping in and out of our field of perception in innumerable quantities. Blank spaces appear when our attention is not refined or concentrated enough to perceive whatever gross or subtle sensation is present.

Log

Day 1-3: Anapana meditation. Moved towards a fairly concentrated state. By the third day I noticed significant piti (or a pleasurable buzzing sensation) on the hands. I momentarily directed my attention to it and it flared up. I then returned to the meditation instructions. I noted that concentrated attention acts on sensation like wind acts on fire. That evening I felt vaguely uneasy with mild anxiety and a sense of trepidation.

Day 4-5: Vipassana meditation instructions were given. I started with a significant aversion to gross sensations related to my posture, but I quickly was able to flip into what I called “searcher for sensation” identity. This allowed me to build up my equanimity towards gross sensations.

Day 6: I was able to perceive gross and subtle sensations throughout the body. I decided to momentarily take an overview perspective after the completion of a scan. Instantly, 80% of my body became a blank space. I could only feel part of my leg, several parts of my head, and my heart with surrounding areas. My heart began pounding and I afterward felt as if I’d been given a brief glance through the gates of heaven. Slowly, sensations returned to the blank space and my body began shaking uncontrollably. It took about 40 minutes for my body to stop shaking. Through the entire experience my mind remained completely at ease and equanimous. I afterwards felt light as if I was walking on air, and completely elated. This gradually returned to normal and that night while lying in bed my thoughts turned dark and fear began forming in my stomach. I continued to practice equanimity and went to sleep.

Day 7: I spent the morning focusing on developing my awareness of impermanence. Not only directly with individual sensations during my meditation but always with the totality of sensations both while meditating and while on breaks. I kept pointing out to myself that it is always “right now” and my conceptualizations of both the past and future are always just a part of that “right now”, and every moment a new right now materializes as a completely distinct and separate entity.

During the afternoon sessions I became curious about sensations related to the watcher. Who was “the searcher for sensations”? This searcher seemed to be somewhere in my head so I momentarily set aside the technique and I plunged my attention into the center of my head. Inside I found a tight ball of densely packed subtle sensations vibrating with a great intensity. It began pulling my attention toward it, and I felt it was extremely dangerous like it had high voltage. A tremendous sensation related to fear exploded in my chest and I immediately yanked my attention back to my body. My attention split into two, however, and I had to physically move my head to shake my attention off of the object.

At this point I completely lost my equanimity. I suffered greatly for about an hour while I contended with existential fear and dread. I finally reached a low point where I begged and pleaded to surrender to the reality of the fear if only so I wouldn’t have to carry it with me. At this point my equanimity came back and I moved my attention to examine the fear.

The sensations of fear began to swell up and my attention automatically moved up to my head where it proceeded to unfold like a flower. All the sensations on my body peeled back and I stood like a flower facing a great expanding emptiness that was light (as in opposite of heavy) while ultimate love and peace shined down on me from above. I basked in this for an unknown time, and then I began scanning the empty space for sensation from bottom to top. As I scanned, the sensations of my body zipped back up from feet to head, and it was as if a bubble of lightness, peace and love from the space had been caught in my body.

Throughout the evening my body returned to its normal state, but I was left in wonder and awe. During the evening sessions I cautiously explored the same area in the center of my head. I found my attention being pulled in and wondered if the dense sensation would still be there. I felt intuitively as if my mind was giving me a choice; did I want it to be there? I decided to leave it up to the dhamma (otherwise known as the laws which govern reality) and I pushed my attention through. It came out into a confined, empty space. Nothing was there. I attempted to return to my scanning but found I couldn’t pull my attention out of that space. I could get it some ways out with great effort, but the further I got the harder it became and if I relaxed my attention would snap back into it. At that point I realized my attention was in my eyes. Suddenly it all made sense. Somehow, the Anapana had created a neural pathway connecting my sense of touch to my visual system. I had been moving my attention with the same muscles I use to move my eyes, and my eyes were even following my attention around the body.

I spent the rest of that session just sitting in my eye since I couldn’t get it out. While walking out of the hall during break I noticed I had a much more normal disposition compared to the zoned in, highly concentrated state I was used to. I noticed it was significantly more difficult for me to navigate the movement of students through the shoe hall as we all prepared to go outside. After the discourse, I sat again and found I was easily able to return to the technique. That night I had disturbing thoughts similar to the night before, but when the fear came, I observed it with equanimity and it subsided.

Day 8-9: At this point equanimity seemed to come easier than ever and I felt my work for this retreat was done. I considered abandoning the technique and playing around with concentration, but ultimately decided it was a better use of my equanimity to clear up as many sankaras (aka. habitual reaction patterns to sensation) as possible. With this I began to work with enthusiasm again, breaking up gross sensation after gross sensation. I began putting so much effort into concentration on the gross sensations that I lost my capacity for general awareness of my body, so once my attention passed an area if it was subtle it would return to a blank space instead of being captured in my awareness as a subtle area. This meant I had no reference for how deep I was working within my body, and I followed gross sensations wherever they went, breaking them up as I worked.

By the end of the 9th day, I had cleared out every gross sensation I could find. I eliminated the final one on my head and was left with nothing but a continual blank space. Immediately, my attention automatically moved to the top of my head and then by itself scanned my entire body from head to feet in one sweep. It created an outline of my body as it went and I was left with the distinct question that if there was this space inside the outline of my body then what was the space outside the outline? I briefly moved my attention there but remembered the instructions to always work within the framework of the body. Having gained tremendous respect for the power of the mind, I quickly returned to the body and felt nothing but the numbness of my foot being asleep.

I figured the session was over since I didn’t know what else to do so I got up and walked to the dining hall to make myself some tea. Initially I felt great, and was walking with great confidence. As I approached the dining hall however this great sense of dread and apprehension began filling my body from the feet up. I sat down to drink my tea and all at once it was as if the fires of hell were rushing up my legs and into my stomach with a searing hot intensity. My body began thrashing around wildly. My initial reaction was to panic, but my better senses knew if I didn’t remain equanimous I would surely have untold damage to contend with in the aftermath. I reminded myself that no sensation can hurt us, it’s only our reactions which cause suffering, and I proceeded to helplessly thrash while my mind remained level and equanimous.

The dining hall was mostly empty but my shaking caused my bowl to drop from the table and shatter on the floor. A server came to me and told me he would get me help. I reassured him I was ok, but he was understandably not convinced. Just about the time the assistant teacher came my body thrashing had subsided to the point where I could drink my tea. The teacher could see I was fine mentally but warned me against applying wrong effort, and suggested I relax for the rest of the evening. I then chatted to one of the volunteers for an hour and went to bed after the discourse.

Laying in bed, I couldn’t relax my body. There was still a substantial energetic sensation moving through my legs and I was twitchy. I felt as if I could run til I dropped dead. I decided to rest as best I could and relaxed my eyes allowing my attention to rest on my right cheek just below my nose. After about two hours my body suddenly went limp and the top half of my mind space went completely blank. I realized in a flash that my body and conscious mind were asleep, but my attention had stayed in my subconscious mind. Experimenting, I found I could open my eyes and mouth, breath and swallow, move my hands easily and move the rest of my body with difficulty. I could think, but not with the same flow as conscious thought. It was more like knowing rather than thinking. I felt effortlessly equanimous.

I realized I needed to pee, and recalling that people commonly sleep walk I wondered if I could go to the bathroom without waking myself up. And I was able to successfully. After laying my body back down, I became curious about the cycles of sleep. By and by, the cycles began to proceed. My body got more and more numb and then became totally paralyzed. My attention moved by itself to my eyes and looked outward. My eyes darted back and forth and then up and down. Then a screen appeared in the distance as if through a mist and disjointed imagines with no narrative or context began appearing. I saw trees and a lake and mountains and birds flying, and a sun constantly setting and rising in the same spot. Then the screen disappeared and my attention dropped back to my cheek. I could then feel a variety of gross sensations appear around my face and felt multiple physical cleanup processes engage in my sinuses. Liquid then began dripping from my ears. Afterwards, everything got very dark and quiet for sometime, until the whole process started again.

This continued throughout the night until the wake up bell rang. Adrenaline shot through my body, but I kept myself asleep thinking I’d just rest more. I eventually faded into another dark period and was woken up normally by the breakfast bell.

That morning I struggled significantly to remain equanimous. My legs were still burning with a significant degree of discomfort. I reminded myself that no sensation lasts forever. But how long would this sensation last? It was the last full day, then I was leaving and I needed to work the day after. How could I function normally if this was my new reality? I struggled with these thoughts and didn’t engage in the morning meditation but instead sat on a chair in the back of the hall. Finally, as the first Metta (loving-kindness) session began, I concluded that if this sensation remained I would just have to do my best to use it as a tool to practice equanimity. The sensation then gradually subsided and by the end of the metta session was completely gone.

I was left feeling extremely fatigued but was energized because the silent period was over. I spent the day chatting and exchanging experiences with other meditators. I left the center the day after, and felt generally at ease but utterly exhausted. I realized the sensations of tiredness were on my face so I kept my attention on my stomach and was able to function normally throughout the day.

Immediately After: I’ve decided to take a break from my meditation practice to see how my way of being stabilizes as I integrate these experiences. I have significant difficulties sleeping. Closing my eyes at night draws my attention to my body and it’s difficult to stop myself from scanning. I generally wake up several times in the night with considerable sensations related to anxiety as I realize I’ve been scanning in my sleep. The anxiety surrounds the possibility I might inadvertently trigger another round of white hot energy and body thrashing, which wouldn’t be conducive to my stability of mind to carry out my duties the following day. During the day, back to work, I felt mildly high and somewhat detached from both my body sensations and the activities of the day, but was very balanced with good energy, and I had a high degree of mental clarity with a general feeling of ease.

Lessons Learned

There are several significant lessons I’ve taken away from these experiences. Firstly, our minds are more mysterious than we can even begin to understand. I now think of the mind as a magician that can pull a rabbit out of a hat, but instead of rabbits it can pull out anything it’s able to imagine. And we have no control over it! Furthermore, the three-way interaction between our body, mind and the external world is essentially a black box, and we have no meaningful ability to influence how this interaction manifests itself as sensations on the body.

We can attempt to discipline ourselves with a top-down approach whenever our subconscious mind sends up a habitual reaction pattern, but as anyone who has struggled to just maintain a little peace of mind can attest, this is exhausting and very situationally dependent. Moreover, its very difficult to see the big picture whenever we’re stuck in the trenches trying to pacify our minds from above. Instead, it’s very possible to deliberately reprogram our habitual reaction patterns at the level of the subconscious mind and thereby reduce or eliminate the aversion and clinging from appearing in the first place.

Secondly, why is equanimity so important, other than a means to relieve moment to moment suffering? It's very easy to be kind and compassionate when we’re feeling good. It’s very easy to take actions that will make our lives and the lives of those around us better when the sensations on our body are light and pleasant. This generosity of spirit can feel equanimous, but can we maintain this disposition when the sensations on our body become heavy, unpleasant and painful? It’s much more difficult. Bearing this in mind, unpleasant and painful sensations are a great opportunity for us to measure the competency of our equanimity. It’s a great tool by which we can measure the condition of our reactive habits and thereby adjust our approach to practice.

The third and final lesson I’ll bring up, and possibly the most important, is because we can’t always feel good (and when we do feel good, it never lasts), we can’t base our happiness on feeling good. Happiness comes from consistently taking action and relating to ourselves and others in a way conducive to a happy life. If we need to feel good to stop ourselves from being miserable and spreading misery to all around us, we won’t be able to take such consistent action and we'll find happiness forever elusive. How can we practice in our lives so the kind and loving disposition so key to happiness can be maintained regardless of the pleasantness or unpleasantness of our momentary feelings?

Exp Year: 2025	ExpID: 119075
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 33
Published: Jul 21, 2025	Views: Not Supported
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Meditation (128) : Retrospective / Summary (11), Hangover / Days After (46), Multi-Day Experience (13), General (1), Not Applicable (38)