damn straight

I went on a ten-day meditation retreat & on the last day, made an appointment to see the Teacher. The capital letter was visible in the way he held himself. “I need to leave.” He inclined his head from the dais. “No, you really need to stay.” “Thank you,” I said, “but I really need to leave.”

He told me, “I can’t let you leave because we have a duty of care, it’s like a father releasing his child into the world… be terrible if you met with some kind of accident.”

Threats? “I think I’ll be ok,” I said, “thank you but I want to go.”

Then he tried, “Well if you leave now, it will be without my approval.” By now I was annoyed. “Well, fortunately I have my *own* approval. May I have my car keys & wallet back please.”

“I want you to know that if you leave early, without completing the course, we cannot accept any dana (donation) from you. And that would be a shame because you have had the benefit of all these good teachings, the accommodation, all this lovely vegetarian food….”

I stared. Vague threats and now blackmail? What kind of shonky operation was this? I tried once more to reach him, or at least make explicit what was happening. “Well,” I said, “if you won’t give me your goodwill… I give you *my* goodwill. Thank you for the teachings and the lovely food, I have learned a lot and I really appreciate it.” He inclined his head and dismissed me without a word, like a beauty queen.

On the way home I stopped at a swanky resort and bought myself a colourful bracelet of carved wood and a five-dollar coffee. As I sat there drinking coffee off a leather coaster on a white marble table I realized from the courtesy of the cute waiter that my messy plaits and op-shop batik muumuu resembled, in fact, resort wear. On the headland as I joined the highway a huge water tower stood embracing itself like the concrete Jesus who looks down on Rio de Janeiro. The total meditation time of the retreat was around 160 hours.