Silent Retreats

[DD/MM/YYYY]

//D//

Einfach mal für ein Wochenende still sein.

Die Haltung des Anfängers einnehmen.

Einfach hier und jetzt sein, sitzen, gehen, essen und trinken.

Dazwischen ein Paar Techniken oder Methoden anwenden um aus dem Kopf und dem Verstand zu kommen und in der stille die immer Hier und Jetzt ist zu sein. Methoden wie die Dynamische Meditation die hier von Rajneesh erklärt wird. Und hier wird von Osho.

Yoga wird findet morgens statt um den Körper für das längere Sitzen vor zu bereiten.

Preise und Anmeldung

//EN//

Simply be silent for a weekend.

Beginner’s Mind.

Child-like innocence.

There are probabably layers of of layers of accumulated thoughts and feelings on top of your child like innocence.

You will be therefor be guided through cathartic meditative therapies and meditations to throw out thoughts, feelings and release tension, if need be.

This will allow you to just sit silently, letting go, watching your thoughts, body, and feelings. Finding peace in ordenary every-day life circumstatnces.

Program

Friday

16:00-18:00 Welcome, Introduction and instructions

Silence Begins

18:00-19:00 Dinner

19:00-20:00 Silent Sitting

20:00-22:00 Born Again (optional)

Saturday

07:00-08:00 Dynamic meditation

8:45-9:00 Silent Sitting

9:00-10:00 Breakfast

10:00-10:30 No-Mind (optional)

10:30-12:00 Silent sitting + walking

12:00-13:00 Yoga

13:00-14:00 Lunch

14:00-16:00 Free time

16:00-18:00 Work as meditation

18:00-19:00 Dinner

19:00-20:00 Silent Sitting

20:00-22:00 Born Again (optional)

Sunday

8:00-9:00 Silent Sitting + walking

9:00-10:00 Breakfast

10:00-10:30 No-Mind (optional)

10:30-12:00 Silent sitting + walking

12:00-13:00 Yoga

13:00-14:00 Lunch

14:00-16:00 Silent sitting + Walking

16:00- Good bye

Ein kurze Geschichte als Inspiration gedacht und um die Richtung anzudeuten für das Retreat

I. The Search for the Bull

In the pasture of this world, I endlessly push aside the tall grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating paths of distant mountains,
My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirring through the forest at night.

Comment: The bull never has been lost. What need is there to search? Only because of separation from my true nature, I fail to find him. In the confusion of the senses I lose even his tracks. Far from home, I see many crossroads, but which way is the right one I know not. Greed and fear, good and bad, entangle me.

We follow Yoshio as he leaves home one rainy morning and steps into the symphony of urban sounds cascading through the city — “raindrops pattering on his umbrella,” “boots squishing and squashing through the puddles.”

2. Discovering the Footprints

Along the riverbank under the trees, I discover footprints!
Even under the fragrant grass I see his prints.
Deep in remote mountains they are found.
These traces no more can be hidden than one’s nose, looking heavenward.

Comment: Understanding the teaching, I see the footprints of the bull. Then I learn that, just as many utensils are made from one metal, so too are myriad entities made of the fabric of self. Unless I discriminate, how will I perceive the true from the untrue? Not yet having entered the gate, nevertheless I have discerned the path.

3. Perceiving the Bull

I hear the song of the nightingale.
The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore,
Here no bull can hide!
What artist can draw that massive head, those majestic horns?

Comment: When one hears the voice, one can sense its source. As soon as the six senses merge, the gate is entered. Wherever one enters one sees the head of the bull! This unity is like salt in water, like color in dyestuff. The slightest thing is
not apart from self.

As he makes his way through this aural wonderland, he is suddenly enthralled by a most magical sound. He follows it to discover a koto player tuning her instrument.

Then the koto player played. The notes were twangy and twinkling; they tickled Yoshio’s ears! When the song finished, Yoshio said, “Sensei, I love sounds, but I’ve never heard a sound like that!”

The koto player laughed, and it sounded like the metal bell that swayed in the wind in Mama’s garden.

“Sensei,” Yoshio said, “do you have a favorite sound?”

“The most beautiful sound,” the koto player said, “is the sound of ma, of silence.”

“Silence?” Yoshio asked. But the koto player just smiled a mysterious smile and went back to playing.

The Sound of Silence: An Illustrated Serenade to the Art of Listening to Your Inner Voice Amid the Noise of Modern Life

http://www.expressionsofspirit.com/10bulls/tenbulls.htm