Vipassana

My on and off journey with the technique.

In 2015, I had just returned to Bengaluru after a five-month project in Ladakh and felt lost about what to do next. A friend had completed the Vipassana 10-day course but wouldn't say much about his experience, except that I should try it once. Hoping to find some direction, I decided to register for my first Vipassana course.

But first, What is Vipassana? In brief, it’s a 10-day free course that teaches a meditation technique called Vipassana. During the course, students observe noble silence, meaning no talking, no phones, no writing, and no reading. You have to be with your thoughts 24*7. The schedule is strict, running from 4:00 am to 9:30 pm, with nearly 10 hours of intensive meditation daily.

My first course went smoothly because I was in the zone of solitude. I remember, even when I slept, I was aware and could hear my heartbeats. I found my faith in Vipassana’s philosophy - the law of nature. Everything is impermanent. All our miseries or happiness is impermanent. We have to train our mind to remain equanimous in all situations, which is key to overcoming misery, rooted in craving and aversion. This faith was devoid of any religious elements. Armed with this knowledge, I thought life would become easier. However, there is a big difference between knowing and practising. As the teacher, S.N. Goenka, often says, “Vipassana doesn’t help unless you practice it daily. You might attend 10 or 100 courses, but it won’t help.”

After my first course, I made it a point to attend a short course or serve in a 10-day course annually. (Serving involves meditating for 5-6 hours daily while also helping with tasks like cleaning and assisting students.) The thought was that this would help me restart my practice, but I would return home, practice for a few days, and then excuses would take over me.

Post-COVID, I lost touch with Vipassana for four years. In 2023, I registered for my fourth Vipassana course but couldn't attend due to a delayed project deliverable. Determined, I registered again in 2024. As the course date approached, I had second thoughts. “Maybe next time,” “Is it a good time?” and “Won’t it be too difficult after such a long break?” I pondered cancelling but reminded myself, “अभी नहीं तो कभी नहीं” (If not now, then never). My partner had pointed out that I had become more agitated and I felt the same. I felt a constant craving to get my next hit of excitement every day, so I would be motivated enough to finish my mundane work. The next hit could be anything from socializing, watching an entertaining movie, or cooking something special. These were the carrots I dangled in front of myself. Without them, my mind became an agitated rabbit. Eventually, I attended the course.

My fourth course at Dhamma Sikhara

This time, the course went smoothly too but because my context had changed drastically in the last four years, my understanding of the same Vipassana philosophy was different. I realized that perhaps the purpose of life is to free ourselves from misery, with everything else being a byproduct of that process. Previously, I believed that finding one’s passion or ultimate goal was life’s purpose. However, from experience, I know that even when we achieve our passion or goal, the cycle of misery soon restarts. What then is the meaning of such achievements?

Misery is a chain of reactions: aversion to things we dislike and craving for things we like. When I’m angry, I’m in misery. When I’m offended, I’m in misery. When I’m anxious, I’m in misery. Even happiness leads to misery because as soon as the context of happiness changes, I crave what has passed, and I am no longer happy.

They say that if you maintain your Vipassana practice for a year, you’ll never leave it. The purification of the mind begins, allowing you to experience moments of equanimity—free from craving and aversion. Your attention span increases, and you can work longer hours without getting tired. I’ve experienced a small fraction of this during the 10-day course, and it’s blissful.

After the course, I started practising almost every day for an hour. It went well for a few weeks until a trip to a family wedding disrupted my routine. I returned home a week ago and am still trying to get back to my routine. Vipassana is missing, and my mind is agitated. Every day I tell myself that I’ll restart tonight, but excuses keep taking over. I’m waiting for the point when agitation will outweigh excuses, leaving me no choice but to return to Vipassana.