How My First Buddhist Retreat Triggered Me Into Accessing My Inner Child – And Healing Her

It is crazy to me that it's still September.

Still the same month that I went my first Buddhist Retreat.

Where layers of who I thought I was were shattered and cleansed.

Where I got to know the little girls living inside of me, who were desperate to be recognized.

Where the fucking pain in my knees drove me to tears every afternoon.
Reminding me of the care that my sangha family gives when one is struggling.

Also learning that I am responsible for my own well being.
And that every one around me wants to support that.

Still reflecting deeply on that experience. Still living it. So why not share?

It's never too late to share a story.

Recently, after our return, I was with my dharma sister at Dancing Cranes where we ran into a friend I had met in a yoga class. What a cliché, I know. She asked us about our retreat, we gave the usual response, it was great! Every one asked about our retreat, thanks to the gorgeous photos we posted online. But we knew that most people don't really know what four days of puja practice looked like, and if we tried to explain, people would look at us funny.

Then she asked us, what was your biggest take away from your experience?
My friend and I looked at each other, surprised by this question, especially because no one had asked us something so sincere. She gave us time to reflect. It was a genuine question. She genuinely wanted to know. It was a loving and beautiful interaction.

I said to her: The biggest thing I learned is what it really means to take care of myself. Those realizations stood out to me the most.

And since we saw her sweet soul at Dancing Crane's, I've been contemplating just that.

I really learned what it means to give myself a break, to go easier on myself, to take luxurious care of myself as well as gaining a disciplined responsibility towards my own body.

Through a weekend of breakfast at 6am, practice 7-9am then again 10am-noon, lunch at 12:30, practice again 3-5pm, dinner at 5:30pm and final practice 7-9pm, we moved into a flow with one another. It was not a rigid schedule at all. By the end of that day you are so ready to lay down and go into the deepest sleep. But of course, before we can sleep, my dharma sister and I stare at the ceiling and reflect on our existential experience. So entranced by our humanness we almost could not sleep. Everybody on that retreat had wild dreams. Some were psychic, some were of spiders, some were of angry ex-lovers.

Traditionally, as practitioners, we play instruments. I play the drum. This drum is actually a traditional Pueblo drum that was given to my teacher when he visited a Navajo Reservation. This was very different than the drum I was used to. It was not the bright turquoise color and it was much tougher to play. But what I learned it that it's all the same. All these indigenous cultures are the same to each other. We are not different. I was honored to play this Native American drum. 

If you follow me on Instagram, you probably know about my knees and my sitting practice and the battle of Jane's Ego. If you don't follow my IG, here's the story: At the beginning of summer, I overworked my knees in hatha yoga and experienced painful tension every time I sat down to practice. Did this stop me from my sitting practice? Nope. In fact, right when I realized the painful sensation, I thought to myself you just pushed that pose too hard Jane. Then I proceeded to go directly from my yoga studio to my temple where I would sit cross legged for about nine hours that day and four hours the next.

This did nothing but make me miserable while I was practicing and then even more miserable afterward because my knees and thighs were all swelled up. Finally a few loved ones (like my mom) talked me into putting my yoga-ego aside to sit in the god damn chair for practice. So about two weeks before we left for retreat, I finally made the bold, daring move of pulling a chair up to my dharma desk and sitting pain-free at my temple for the first time in weeks.

The very first thing I noticed is how easy it was for me to tap into a meditative state now that I was sitting comfortably and upright. This was an important conclusion for me. You cannot meditate if you are uncomfortable. Bottom line.

So on the retreat, I learned about caring for the physical body, the subtle body, the chakras, the nadis. Every morning we practiced QiGong and Daoist yoga. I even got my first glimpse at Tibetan yoga practices that will take me lifetimes to master.

And even though I was now sitting in a chair comfortably, the amount of hours I was sitting was bringing pain into my knees, thighs and shins. Every break we had I was icing them and holding back tears. My inner frustration was growing. One afternoon during a long session of mantra recitations, I remember getting to a point where my brain was just screaming at me saying:

YOU CAN'T DO THIS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU CANT EVEN SIT STILL FOR TWO HOURS AND FOCUS YOUR MIND IS ALL OVER THE PLACE YOU ARE SO ABOUT TO LOSE IT AND START SCREAMING NONSENSE AND RUN STRAIGHT INTO THE DESERT AND NEVER BE SEEN AGAIN AND EVERY ONE WILL THINK YOU ARE TOTALLY NUTSO!

Yep. Those were literally the thoughts that I was having. But I looked cool, calm and collected. It was almost dinner time. I would survive. Besides, if I did run out of there screaming like a crazy person, everything would be fine. The sangha would let me do my thing and still be there for me when I returned. That's some relationship security right there.

That same day during dinner I began to notice a wave of emotion come over me as the pain in my knees throbbed. I felt as though the pain was translating into my emotional body. I excused myself into the living room to lay on the couch, ice my knees and watch the Arizona sunset out the gorgeous old windows. I really didn't want my mood to touch any one else's. Just then, my Rinpoche walked in and saw how I was laying there feeling very sorry for myself. (Rinpoche translates to 'precious one.' He is a very mastered spiritual teacher that I am honored to learn from).

Is it your knees Tenzin? I nodded and averted my eyes away. I felt like I needed to get up and bow to his presence but at the same time I felt like I needed to just be and treat him like a normal person and not put on some spiritual front for him. Let's face it, I was miserable. May I touch? he asked reaching for my knees. I nodded. He pushed into some pressure points and gently massaged my knee cap as he said to me, "You go back and you take better care of yourself. You go easier on yourself. You go get massages, get acupuncture. It's quite inflamed. You need ibuprofen." He walked back into the dining room and I could hear him asking around for ibuprofen. He returned with a small travel-pack of Motrin and a glass of water. Holding the offerings in his hands he came to me smiling like a Tibetan jester, wiggling his head side to side. "I serve you now" he says in a funny voice with he brightest eyes pretending as if he were my trembling servant – hoping to get a few laughs out of me. He always makes me laugh. He is a man of many characters. I was honored to feel served by him. I was honored to feel cared for by him. He said that I could sit out the last practice if I wanted. Then he left.

My dear teacher, Lama Thupten Rinpoche.

A treasured photo of my teacher's teachers, Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche and Khenpo Konchok Monlam Rinpoche. 

And as I tried to relax, tears started to roll down my face. I felt like I was laying there with my six year old self. My three year old self. My 12 year old self. These girls were asking me why I never learned to care for myself. They were asking me why I never put myself first. They were asking me when I'm going to be ready to take responsibility for this incredible human vessel of mine. My knees started to feel like this overwhelming symbol of a serious lacking in self-care over my entire lifetime.

I could see the Jane that never had lunch money or a brown bag with a sandwich in it. I can see her sitting outside of her elementary school in her kush-ass neighborhood, wondering if some one was going to pick her up before it got dark. I can see her not wanting to be a burden to others, because the family she lived in seemed to be under constant stress. I see her get older and begin to start skipping meals and throwing away perfectly good food. I see her start to feel attracted to girls and tell herself she is freak, wondering obsessively why she feels so uncomfortable around boys. I can see her suffering from panic attacks in the hot-pink bedroom she grew up in that overlooked the entire valley. I can see her feeling terrifyingly alone in her giant home perched upon Mt. Olympus. And I can see that she had literally no idea how to handle anything. I see the way she dedicated her life to her guitar and her music. The  one thing that fed her spirit. And then I can see where in college she almost ended her life. Because it all just got too hard to stay well. She started to believe that she simply did not have the tools to keep herself alive. She did not believe that she was worth it.

As I laid there, I completely drifted off into a lifetime of actually seeing little Janey. Actually seeing her. And how badly she needed some one to take care of her. How badly she needed Jane to take care of her. And how it just took Jane some time to learn how. And how today, Jane is so fucking ready to take care of that little girl.

As all these intense realizations washed over me, my dharma sister came into the room to comfort me as I cried. She didn't need to know what was wrong. She just needed to be there. My frustration had grown into re-opening a gaping wound in my childhood. That opening invited me to explore my inner child and see what she needed from me to begin healing. In that very moment, my adult self embraced Janey and promised her, she never has to worry again. She is going to be so luxuriously taken care of for the rest of her life. I made that promise to her and allowed my friend to help me get ready for our final session. There was no way I'd skip out. It was secret Tibetan Yoga time!

My beautiful dharma sister, Chopin Dechen in the dining room of our retreat center at Kenyon Ranch.  

The next day, after a good two hours of QiGong, one of my dharma sisters mentioned that she brought her needles in case any one needed any acupuncture treatment. Quickly, another dharma sister said, "Tenzin needs help, can you work on her knees?" I looked over at them hearing my name mentioned and got wide-eyed and nervous.

"Have you ever had acupuncture?" She asked me.
"No, I believe that in a past life I was getting acupuncture and there was an earthquake and the building I was in collapsed on top of me and all the needles went though my body and it was a really painful, traumatizing death." I responded with out skipping a beat.
"That sounds like a terrible fear to have." She said, looking a little surprised by my prompt response.
"Yes, it is. But I'm ready to face it. We are in a Gonpa, you are my dharma sister, we just practiced QiGong, what better time for me to try this?" I said. She agreed.

I laid down on the couch in the corner and she immediately asked me what digestive problems I have. "Actually, I have this rare condition where my esophagus will totally close up and I feel like I'm dying. But that hasn't happened in years," I said, a little thrown off by the random question.
"Yes, I figured something like that" she said as she touched pressure points on my knees. "Your knees are very connected to your digestion. I want you to meditate on harmonizing your digestive system with your knees." She poked about 7 needles into me that I could barely feel. Then she popped one into my forehead and BAM! Intense energy started to pulse through my body. I surrendered and relaxed.

She walked away and I could hear my dharma sisters talking about their careers in healing on the other side of the room. I could hardly make out what they were saying, but having them there and hearing their voices in the room was incredibly comforting. I really leaned on my sangha members through this whole weekend's experience. As soon as I would relax my eyes would then shoot open and check the ceiling to see if it was falling on me. It looked sturdy enough. I knew I would survive this time! And I totally did!!!

After about fifteen minutes she came over and pulled out all the needles. My body felt so intensely energized, but also really slowed and mellowed at the same time. It reminded me of the feeling after I get tattoos and there is all this buzzing energy inside of me. But this time, it felt very controlled as it flowed through my channels and pressure points. As we walked to the dining hall for lunch, I realized that I had just experienced a morning of serious Chi re-activiation. (Chi = Prana = life-force energy).

On top of that, my Rinpoche handed me a tube of CBD muscle-rub. "Use the rest of this, it's good stuff." I massaged that into my recently poked knees and could say with complete confidence that my knees didn't hurt at all for the entire rest of the day. This balm helped me get into a ritual of massaging my knees three times a day, each time prepping either with ice or a hot pad. This was the best I could do to keep the inflammation down post-retreat.

We arrived early on the first day to help Rinpoche set up the shrine in the retreat center. We put up every decoration you see just for the retreat, completely transforming the space into a gonpa (Tibetan Temple). 

Since returning from the retreat, I have had two deep massages. I ice/heat/CBD massage my knees every morning and night. I sit in my chair. I practice gentle yoga. I go to community acupuncture. I received the dopest Tibetan medicine to use from another dharma brother. I brew Kratom tea to  treat pain naturally. I even visited a Sports Med doctor where I got x-rays and learned that I have a little joint-pressure problem in my knees due to my wide hips and nobby knees. Nothing wrong that I did to myself but well, ignoring the inflammation and aggravating it. He was confident that it should heal up just fine with physical therapy. He suggested turmeric and to continue bodywork and acupuncture. I have scheduled my first appointment with the University's physical therapy center.

This is all a big deal for me. I truly never believed or even considered myself to be worthy of this kind of incredible care. Even going into full time, out-patient treatment for my eating disorder felt like a luxury that I didn't deserve years ago. Today I return to that same exact doctor's office excited to show them how strong and healthy I am, just looking for a recommend for my knee!

While I could probably write a few chapters on the different aspects of this retreat and the even deeper level shit that came up for every one, I cannot express the experience with words to represent what we do. While it is forever my goal to express the spiritual experience through my writing, I cannot do it all the time. I cannot perfectly share my experience. I will die trying :)

Perhaps this is the message that will apply to most. The message of stepping up your self-care. Rather than going into a deep description of my deepening relationship with Guru Rinpoche, a Buddhist Diety that our retreat was focused around, I am instead pulled to share the most real, relatable side of this path. Because I'm not really here to spread Buddhist theology. At least, not right now. 

My intentions are simply to share what it's like to be a Western Yogini in SLC at age 24. Lump in the other fun facts like my red-headedness, my queerness and my creativity, I think I've got some stories that some people can relate to. And more importantly, I want to show others that you can totally dive into your life with passion and live it fully just like I do. I want to inspire those who are on the brink of the spiritual swim of there lives, to just take the leap and dive in.

Because on the other side, I'll still be here. I'll still be writing and practicing and doing my best to help others find that path for themselves. I feel more and more aligned with this calling every day. Not to spread buddhism, but to spread the message of self-love.

There are times when I get down on myself and realize who I used to be. How low I used to be. The pain I used to cause myself. Almost leading me to believe that the way I live now cannot be real if that ugly person is where I came from. But I have compassion for that girl. She was doing her best. And she had to go through all of that so that she could experience this incredible upswing. This incredible rollercoaster called "Recovery" and "The Spiritual Path." Because now I know. I know what it's like to be at rock bottom. I know what it's like to go into treatment and recovery with absolutely no hope that any one could help me. I know what it's like to experience self-compassion for the very first time ever - and be totally freaked out by it. I've watched that flower in my heart bloom into something brighter and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. How selfish of me to not share this experience with others? What a disservice I would be doing to the world around me?

Thank you so much for reading my story. It's been a pleasure to share. Thank you for following my journey. I'm sending you love, wherever you are in the world, I hope you feel it. 

<3 Jane (Tenzin Yang-Chen)