“The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley”
—Robert Burns, To A Mouse
As I sit back down to write by the window, sheltering me from a wet Irish day, I have no tales of bliss or ecstasy to share with you. For reasons I’ll not get into today, my great plan to go on the Jhana meditation retreat in Massachusetts never bore fruit.
I did make it across the Atlantic, however, and my first week in Toronto was a blur of non-stop socialising (something of a shock to my hermitic sensibilities). And though I was worn out by the end of the week, I had a blast. There was a ten hour drinking session in the snug of a Canadian Irish pub (it being obligatory as I’m sure you’re aware for the Irish to check in with the sprawling global union whenever one leaves the country), family barbecues, and catching up with other YouTubers at the CCCRU (where Jreg, Artchad, We’re In Hell and Duncan Clarke all work). Later in the week, PF Jung came up to visit from Texas, and he joined CJ the X and myself for some late-night drinks. The next day, the three of us had breakfast and then shot a couple of podcasts together. All in all, a wonderful week.
The plan for the next week, of course, was Massachusetts, but, in lieu of that, I decided to run my own solo retreat to mixed success. The week started well and I experienced a level of enjoyment and peace I’ve never had with meditation before (thanks in no small part to the guides of the Jhana facilitators Jhourney).
But it didn’t last. I turned up the dial on the meditation and killed the buzz. Then I overcompensated by taking the foot off the juice and into the vacuum left by that pulling back, my old habits snuck in. I went to bookshops, and then, to my shame, to cafés where I began to write. It was a rookie error and one I repeated with relish day after day as thinking piled on thinking and insight crowded on insight. Of course, it’s all related to the labyrinth I am marching through, and so tangible results are limited. I returned to Ireland with no ecstatic experience of the Jhanas but with some stories and a stack of notes thrumming with insight of ambiguous value.
All in all, a rather pleasant holiday. I’ll be back on Tuesday with this week’s poetry club and then later in the week (Friday, I’m thinking) with the first proper instalment of The Philosopher’s Toolkit.