Posted on Aug. 12, 2009 by Neil McKinlay, meditation instructor and 2010 Queenswood retreat leader.
Spiritual teachings are never free. Though I sometimes hear suggestions to the contrary, in truth such teachings are never simply given away; some sort of exchange always takes place.
When monasteries were central to the practice and propagation of spiritual wisdom, donations and benefactors played an important role in allowing these institutions to fulfill their purpose. Retreatants, too, received required necessities through the generosity of others. Students were often involved in similar transactions, presenting goods and services in appreciation for the instruction being given. In our time, this tradition continues - sometimes as described above, sometimes through the more familiar form of registration fees.
All this, of course, only acknowledges material offerings extended the teachings. Throughout the millenia, those moved to seek instruction in deeper living have been required to give in at least three other ways. First, many have had to endure tremendous hardship in order to even be near the teachings. Marpa, an important figure in the lineage of Chogyam Trungpa, journeyed from Tibet to India three times in search of his teacher - and all this before the invention of airplanes and automobiles!
Milarepa, another lineage figure, shows us the enormous amounts of determination and perseverance that must sometimes be evidenced before teachings are given. The previously mentioned Marpa required Milarepa build and dismantle a series of towers before instruction began in earnest. Only when the latter reached a point of despair over this were the desired teachings at last presented.
Finally, even receiving instruction does not liberate us from the need to give. I have heard Shirley Daventry-French, a Victoria-area yoga teacher, express this situation in the following way: “Once we have received the teachings, it is our duty to make them our own and, then, pass them on.” In other words, once instruction is given, a student is expected to practice. This raises a form of giving modern people often struggle with: the giving of time.
Time is precisely what a dozen individuals recently offered over two days in July. Gathered at Queenswood, they took a weekend out of inevitably busy schedules in order to engage the teachings we have been exploring over the last years. The hours were sometimes long. The room sometimes prickly. Many reported feeling their conventional lives pull at them during those days - pull in the form of lists needing completion, problems needing solved, calls that had to be made. Confronted with this, many observed how difficult it was to keep going - yet, this is what they did.
At the end of our time together, a few blinked at what had been completed. “I can’t believe we meditated all weekend,” one gasped. In the days since, a number have contacted me through phone, email, and direct interaction. All have confirmed something I myself have sensed about the price we must pay in order to access spiritual knowing.
Though the teachings are never free, once we give in whatever way we can, in whatever way is asked of us, life gives back far more than we could ever imagine. “I've been wanting to write you a note about how much I benefited from the retreat,” one person said. “However, I haven't yet been able to find the right words to describe these benefits.”
This is how it goes: we give and we get. And, curiously, what is received affects not only ourselves, but those around us as well. We are rarely - if ever - the only ones who benefit from the kind of exchanges described here. A sense of inspiration and possibility also touches the others in our lives. Consider the email I received days after the Queenswod retreat ended: “I hear you have another planned for October,” a non-participant wrote. “I’d like to sign up right now!”
Neil McKinlay offers meditation instruction at Queenswood and throughout the Greater Victoria area. The above article was taken from his Fall 2009 newsletter. A full version of this can be found at www.NeilMcKinlay.com.
