In my mind?s eye, I stare at my throbbing kneecap. Above
the knee, three strands of muscle are stretched to their limit, and the tendon
below the knee is pulsing under pressure. I continue to move down my leg,
scanning for sensations, still unsure whether I am succeeding or simply
delusional in my efforts to observe my pain objectively.
When people speak of Vipassana, the meditation technique of the
Buddha, they talk about rules. For 10 days, this means no talking, no reading,
no writing, no music or singing, no eye contact; no killing, including
mosquitoes; two light meals per day; and a daily 4 a.m. wake-up bell. For me,
these rules were as carefree as a romantic Bollywood dance number, in contrast
to the challenge of the meditation.
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