My meditation practice has been in maintenance mode since moving to Pittsburgh in 2015. But helping establish a new group and delivering my first dhamma talk has injected some energy.

The new group that’s starting up is organized by two women whose backgrounds include Thich Nhat Hanh, IMS, and Tara Brach. They sent out feelers looking for like-minded Vipassana practitioners, and got enough response to form a small practice group. Typically eight to ten people show up from a total pool of a couple dozen. I think we’d all like to see it grow into something more substantial, but that’ll take time and effort. And none of us are authorized dhamma teachers, so right now it feels very reminiscent of my old kalyana mitta (spiritual friends) group back in Boston.

CIMC meditation hall

CIMC meditation hall

A fair number of us—myself included—have long attended a Wednesday evening meditation group led by Rhonda Rosen. So far the two groups seem to be complementary, in that Rhonda focuses on Goenka’s guided meditations and Q&A about practice, while the new group seems more philosophical and a bit less secular.

At the first meeting, we talked about our individual goals for the group, and I think I summarized mine pretty effectively. What I am looking for is the opportunity to learn from other local meditators, the chance to invite distant dhamma teachers to visit Pittsburgh as guests and learn from them, the opportunity to share the learnings from my own practice with others, and to help build a venue where all of that can happen. And I emphasized that for me, the biggest thing I’ve missed since moving to Pittsburgh has been dhamma talks, where experienced teachers expound on the philosophical teachings of the Buddha.

Thereafter, we’ve met weekly for brief meditations—both sitting and walking—followed by some kind of dhamma talk and discussion.

As I said earlier, our biggest challenge is that none of us are teachers. So we’re sharing the responsibility of preparing material to present, whether it’s readings or recordings or original thoughts. Predictably, we began with the central tenets of Buddhism: the Four Noble Truths. I was asked to lead an evening discussing the Second Noble Truth: the Origin/Source/Cause of Suffering.

Treating this as my first proper dhamma talk, I spent some time gathering notes, and found that although the subject was far-ranging, everything fell together nicely with obvious segues. I put together an outline and ran through it a couple times in my head. Ample client facilitation experience as a consultant, plus the sessions I’ve led in my old kalyana mitta group, all gave me confidence and kept any nerves at bay.

Unfortunately, I set myself a very ambitious task: explaining how the sequence of events in the Buddhist psychology of Dependent Origination give rise to the pain of desires that ultimately cannot be fulfilled, along the way touching on kamma, ignorance, the Three Characteristics of Existence, the Four Divine Messengers, the Five Recollections, and the Eight Worldly Winds (Buddhism is *all* about lists), then closing by revealing the often-unexplained link of why silent meditation is the chosen tool to reach the goal of alleviating suffering. It was pretty much the Grand Unified Theory of Buddhism According to Ornoth.

Although ambitious, I think the idea was really worthy; but with so much ground to cover, the execution wound up being a bit strained.

After the talk, the verbal feedback I received was all very positive. The two founders were both effusive in praise, as was one of the new practitioners who admitted an intellectual inclination. But two longtime practitioners and the three new practitioners were all silent during the Q&A, which tells me that my own impressions about overreaching myself were probably correct.

Specifically, I tried to plow through way too much material for a single dhamma talk. I didn’t need to go into quite so much detail, nor be so technical. The delivery wound up being a lot more intellectual than I had hoped, and I think I lost some of the attendees as a result. Although that probably happens at every dhamma talk to one extent or another. Still, I should tighten up my material and make more effort to keep people engaged in future talks.

Giving such a long talk—40 minutes plus a few minutes of Q&A—was surprisingly tiring. But I’m really proud of the ideas I presented, especially explaining the mechanics of how and why Buddhists use silent meditation to address the suffering we all experience.

Preparing and delivering my first dhamma talk was novel and fun. But more importantly, I found it deeply rewarding to share some of my insights in hopes that they might help others along the path—whether experienced practitioners or relative newcomers. It was very satisfying, despite my inexperience in a teaching role.

Of course, the one thing that cures inexperience is practice. So it’ll be interesting to see whether I will enjoy and grow in proficiency in that teaching role, and to what degree my knowledge and experience can be of meaningful value to others. I look forward to that exploration.

It wouldn’t be the most entertaining use of your time, but if you’re truly curious, I’ve shared a written transcript of the talk. And if you’re truly masochistic, here's the 44-minute audio MP3, although be forewarned that the audio quality is low.

Who is the best foosball player in the company? This question has followed me through three of my last four employers, ever since I spun my first rod back in 2005.

I’m happy to say that I’ve been able to provide my coworkers with an answer to that eternal question, through FRank, the foosball ranking site I first developed nearly ten years ago. If you’re interested in ancient history and FRank’s inception, you can read more about it in this blogpost from 2007.

A year after I wrote that post I left Optaros, and my foosball ranking site languished, nearly forgotten. After wasting a couple years at a sad little company that didn’t even have a foosball table, last December I found myself interviewing at Buildium, whose kitchen included not one but *two* tables! During the interview process, I made sure they knew that hiring me meant access to my foosball ranking site, too!

Naturally, after years of neglect, I wanted to clean things up a bit (and size up the foosball culture) before I opened the app up for public use. So over the past few weeks I put a few hours into a bit of a refresh. And I’m pretty happy with the result.

Here are some of my favorite new features:

Foosball table

First, I rewrote everything using Google’s Angular javascript framework. For non-techies that probably doesn’t mean much, but it’s cool new technology that I really need to learn anyways. And it allows me to easily do some cool things like providing predictions of the score of any given combination of players.

I also made it a single-page app, which means everything happens on one page, kinda like Google Docs, without any page refreshes because all that data comes from behind-the-scenes API calls. It feels more like a native application and less like a website.

Next, I redesigned it to have a mobile-friendly user interface, so that it would be simple and easy to use, whether you were on a desktop, laptop, tablet, or smartphone. It even has its own little icon so that its bookmark looks just like any other app on your phone.

I even added the Web Speech API, which allows anyone using Google Chrome to enter a set of players by saying aloud something like “Jordan and Matt versus Dave Owens and Ben”, rather than having to manually navigate four cumbersome drop-down lists.

In the first two weeks of public availability, the adoption rate among players here has been great. This week I added a user-suggested feature: when someone logs a game, a message is automatically broadcast in our company’s foosball chat room (from “FRank Foosbot”), summarizing the result for all to see.

Needless to say, I’m pretty happy with how I was able to bring it up to date with how the web has evolved. It’s been a fun coding exercise, while contributing something unique to the company culture.

The biggest irony, however, was when Buildium hired my old friend Dave. I worked with him at both Sapient as well as Business Innovation, where he wrote (and then lost the source code for) his original Microsoft .Net foosball application that inspired me to create FRank. And years later, we’re working together again, and I get to show him what his old foosball ranking system has evolved into.

Enough stuff has happened in the past two months that it’s time for another aggregated life update.

Health issues remain inconclusive. After surgery in December, I had another attack of abdominal pain around New Years, which prompted another visit to the GP and a followup CT scan. That detected nothing, so I’m back to eating a regular diet and taking a wait-and-see attitude. Meanwhile, I’ve taken the lull in proceedings to catch up on dental and eye stuff, get a new pair of glasses, and a haircut.

Watched the Super Bowl, since the Patriots were in it, and it proved to be a remarkably exciting finish. Whatever. I would rather the Revs have won.

Last month I observed the one-year anniversary of my kyūdō First Shot training. I also started learning hitote, which is a more involved form involving two shots and repeated kneeling down and getting up. It’s nice to have something new to think about and work on.

In January I made a long-overdue four-day visit to Pittsburgh, which was extended by two days due to Boston’s first huge blizzard disabling air travel. Pittsburgh wasn’t very eventful, but it was a nice visit.

Since then, Boston has been pounded by huge snowstorms one after another, causing daily gridlock, forcing the transit system to shut down for days at a time, and setting numerous all-time records for snowfall, wind, and cold temperatures. A sampler:

  • For the entire winter up to January 23rd, Boston only had 5.5 inches of snow. In the next three weeks, it would receive an additional 90.2 inches (over 7.5 feet)!
  • February broke the record for Boston’s snowiest month ever, and did it by the 15th of the month!
  • By the end of the month, Boston had received five and a half feet of snow, beating the old record by 50 percent.
  • Boston set the 4th snowiest 30-day period anywhere in American National Weather Service records.
  • It snowed on 20 out of 28 days in February.
  • Boston set its all-time record for greatest snow depth.
  • This has been Boston’s 2nd snowiest winter on record. We’re less than two inches away from setting a new record (9 feet of snowfall), and we typically get about 8 inches of snow in March.
  • An avalanche off the roof of a skating rink hit four people, burying one. Two of them had to be hospitalized.
  • Boston cyclists built a 40-foot-long “underground” snow tunnel for commuting.
  • In many cases, cars were so deeply buried that owners had to put cardboard signs on them warn snow removers not to plow there.
  • An MBTA ferry and a Coast Guard icebreaker both got stuck in the sea ice in Massachusetts Bay.
  • Blocks of sea ice more than 7 feet thick came ashore on Cape Cod.
  • During one of our blizzards, Mt. Washington recorded the highest wind gust it has experienced in seven years.
  • February was 12.7 degrees below normal temperature.
  • It was the 2nd coldest February on record
  • For the whole month of February, we only had one day where we reached the day’s average high temperature.
  • At 15 days, we fell one day short of setting the record for consecutive days below freezing.
  • At 43 days, this was the longest consecutive time that Boston has ever stayed below 40 degrees, beating the old record by 8 days.

I could go on at length, but it’s an experience that honestly is best forgotten. I will say that it has unambiguously strengthened my commitment to moving to a warmer climate.

Out of utter frustration with the weather, I set up and started using the indoor cycling trainer, which I didn’t use at all last winter. As a result, I’ve already earned $66 as a paid cyclist, thanks to my company’s health benefit…

And I’ve now been working at Buildium for 100 days. The money is happy, the atmosphere is friendly, and we’ve added yet another old Sapient (and Business Innovation) coworker. I’ve been doing a lot of Javascript, Knockout, and Angular work, which is enjoyable (mostly).

Thanks to the snow, I worked from home several days, and enjoyed an empty office when I made the trek in. I’ve made three satisfying lunch expeditions for Thai from Lanta (formerly Rock Sugar). Our company recently announced our first acquisition, and it looks like the two businesses complement each other well. And I hope to hear news about improvements to our office space.

While there, I’ve enjoyed rebuilding my foosball skills, and have been alpha testing a new version of my foosball ranking site. I’ve optimized the UI for mobile devices, made it more interactive by porting it to the Angular Javascript framework, and made it behave more like a single-page application by burying all the data requests in behind-the-scenes JSON AJAX requests. After talking it up to my coworkers, I’m excited to open it up to general use! I’ve even played with the Web Speech API and hope to incorporate speech recognition into it soon.

Otherwise I think things are quiet. Like that thrice-damned groundhog, I’ve been holed-up, waiting for the mountains of snow to recede before venturing back out into the world.

M.C. Beal

Mar. 30th, 2011 08:43 pm

Back in December, one of the teachers at the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center sent me an email, inquiring whether I would be willing to volunteer to periodically read the announcements before their Wednesday evening dhamma talks.

This was ironic and fitting, after something I’d done the month before. During the feedback go-round at the end of the 9-day “Sandwich Retreat”, when I got the mic, I made a joke by reciting the familiar (and grammatically flawed) opening lines of the standard Wednesday night announcements. Since all the teachers had been watching, I suppose it was a manifestation of kamma that they’d soon single me out to “volunteer” to be an announcer when the need came up.

You might ask why I chose to do it, rather than tell them no. Over the past year I’ve really stopped going to the Wednesday night programs, and with my new job a 45-minute train ride from the center, I had a ready excuse.

On the other hand, it’s an easy way for me to give back to a center that has helped me quite significantly. Plus, after 15 years in consulting and 10+ years running DargonZine Summits, facilitating and speaking in front of a group are things I am very comfortable with.

Still, it would give me some interesting material to practice with, from nervousness and perfectionism to vanity and the ego. Plus it would earn me some respect as a leader, both by other practitioners as well as by the teachers. And it would certainly provide food for thought regarding my relationship to myself and the social environment, since I’ve always had a dualistic relationship with receiving attention and praise.

So given that the only material loss I’d face is some “me time”, I think the benefits of doing the announcements are worth pursuing, at least for the time being.

Once I made that decision, it surprised me that the people at the center didn’t schedule a training session for three months, until mid-March. But when they got in touch with me I blocked off a Friday night and left work early to get to Cambridge in time for the orientation session…

… which never happened. The guy who was supposed to train the two of us simply brain-farted and blew us off, not even remembering the meeting until more than an hour later, despite having called the other attendee the day before to ensure she’d show up. This is a person who has also either flaked or simply ignored my previous attempts to volunteer for the center’s tech committee.

I was ripped, but I had the presence of mind to examine the reasons why, rather than simply let my emotions run unchecked. When I tried to map my reaction to the needs, desires, and assumptions underlying it, I came up with several elements.

The two expectations I had of the administrator were competence and consideration. In the former case, I expected him to do something he committed to. In the latter, I expected that he wouldn’t waste my time, since I’d blocked off one of my rare free nights for this training. Of course, I often have to remind myself that I cannot expect other people to have the same zeal for competence and consideration that I do, and this was one of those instances.

However, lest you conclude that my passion for competence is completely positive, I have to admit that not only did my perfectionism cause me to have unmet expectations of someone else, but my high expectations for myself magnified my frustration a whole lot more…

You see, while the training was scheduled for Friday, I was already signed up to do the announcements by myself the following Wednesday. So by blowing off our training, the administrator had triggered my own concern over doing a good job the following week. And I generally don’t take well to anything that comes between me and an audience’s perception of me as a fully competent individual. So underlying my anger was my own anxiety, since his bungling might make me look like a fool a few days later. And that was the real issue.

For the next few days, my mind continually returned to how I was going to respond when I finally saw that administrator, mentally practicing a cutting response to an expected apology. Ironically, our homework for Narayan’s Long-Term Yogis group was exactly that: to observe repeating thoughts and try to let them go. Thanks to that homework, I had the presence of mind to avoid picking those thoughts up and running with them, which was very beneficial.

At the same time, when I did think about it, I realized that it was an opportunity to examine my reaction to being owed an apology by someone. My default reaction to an apology normally is to minimize and dismiss the offense, even though I’d remain angry internally. My usual preference would be to avoid bringing it up at all, to avoid any possible confrontation or unpleasantness. It’s an interesting thing for me to work with, since it’s one of the few situations where I have difficulty being my normally assertive self.

In the end, as I walked into the center for a rescheduled training session on Tuesday (the day before my premiere performance), I decided to throw away all my rehearsed lines and just respond to his apology with whatever response came to me at the moment. That was great, although it still wound up producing my usual self-effacing dismissal of the problem. Oh well!

So running the Wednesday evening talks involves a bit more than just reading the announcements. The announcer is also responsible for audio, which includes the mic for the teacher, as well as hearing-assist devices and their base station. We also record the talks live onto CD, so the recorder must be manned and media capture and levels properly set and monitored. And at the end of the night, one has to set up the room for the following morning’s sit.

So how did my first session go? For the most part, everything went off flawlessly. I only made a couple minor hiccups while getting through the announcements. On one hand, I was a little self-conscious about having to wear my reading glasses in front of the crowd, but on the other hand, it blurred everyone’s faces out when I looked up, so although it looked like I was making proper speaker eye contact, I didn’t have to actually register people’s faces, which made things a bit easier for me!

The biggest challenge I faced was when one of the attendees (a woman I know, actually), laid down in an aisle and closed her eyes while listening to the talk. It wasn’t long before the inevitable happened and she began snoring loud enough to distract the people sitting around her. Since she was (thankfully) right near me, I coughed loudly a couple times to try to keep her from dozing, and a couple times she snorted uncomfortably enough to wake herself. In the end, we were saved by the bell, but next time I’ll be sure to bring my keys, so that I can accidentally “drop” them in such a situation to startle the person into wakefulness!

The night included one final irony… The speaker that night was Winnie Nazarko, and the title of her talk was “Perfectionism”. Kind of appropriate, since perfectionism was the topic of our most recent Kalyana Mitta meeting; it has been the subject of my own recent contemplation of late (something for a future post); and it was the foundation of my desire to do a perfect job on my first night running the Wednesday evening dhamma talks!

So that’s how it went. I’ll probably do 3-4 more Wednesdays between now and September. While I’m pretty comfortable with the idea of running the show on Wednesday nights, I’m still pretty stunned to find myself in the position of being one of the primary public faces of the center. But it’s gratifying that they feel comfortable that I would do a creditable job in that capacity.

Level Up!

Oct. 6th, 2010 11:26 am

There seems to be a predictable trajectory for people who get interested in Vipassana meditation. At first it’s all about information-gathering: learning as much as one can about the dhamma by inhaling Buddhist books and dhamma talks.

Not surprisingly, when I went through that phase, I did it to the nines. From 2004 through 2008, I read voraciously and attended hundreds of dhamma talks at CIMC, absorbing as much as I could. But I also plundered the internet, downloading and listening to (without exaggeration) a couple thousand dhamma talk podcasts, particularly by Ajahn Brahm of the BSWA and Gil Fronsdal of IMC.

A couple years ago, I finally reached the saturation point. The subject matter of the talks had become very familiar—almost second-nature to me—and my beginners’ enthusiasm slowly waned, giving way to a mild annoyance when a live dhamma talk would be followed by people asking the same redundant and off-topic questions during the usual post-talk Q&A. I found myself feeling frustrated that CIMC’s speakers had to limit their talks to an introductory level, since a fair percentage of their audience are beginners. And I wanted to look into the topics in more detail than a single 45-minute talk could allow.

It was time for me to move on.

CIMC also hosts a handful of standing practice groups that meet on a weekly basis. I attended a few of these (specifically on metta, wise speech, and moving from reactivity to discernment) and found them useful, but they typically meet about eight times, so it felt like the group disbanded as soon as it had gained that sense of continuity I was looking for. It seemed a bit silly to attend the same practice group multiple times, and I wasn’t interested in attending other practice groups whose topics weren’t of value to me.

Just recently, I found my way to another CIMC practice group called the “Long-Term Yogi” program. It’s a more permanent standing group of experienced practitioners, so they get into topics in much more depth, and the participants tend to stay with it for a much longer period of time, so there’s real continuity from month to month and year to year.

The downside is that one has to obtain permission from the teacher to attend. I was asked to assemble a brief history and describe the current state of my practice in order to justify my participation, then wait for the teacher to judge me worthy or unworthy. It was a very uncomfortable exercise in ego and self-aggrandizement and then awaiting judgment… from a place that typically discourages all that. But in the end I was accepted and enrolled in the program.

So far I’ve been to two (weekly) meetings, and have enjoyed them quite a bit. We’re going slowly through the Eightfold Path, examining each path factor in great depth. This fall the group will focus on the latter two (out of four) aspects of wise speech: harsh speech and idle speech, both of which are of particular interest to me. The atmosphere is very collegial, and the weekly contact with CIMC teacher Narayan is also very valuable.

I’m really very optimistic that the LTY program is where I belong right now. It seems like the perfect venue for deepening my practice while benefiting from the consistent support of a great teacher and other knowledgeable and experienced practitioners.

Like my wonderful Kalyana Mitta group (which has been running for nine months and I am remiss in not having mentioned before), the LTY program feels like the embodiment of sangha: a semi-permanent supportive community of dedicated practitioners. I am very fortunate to have been welcomed into these two groups; they both feel very comfortable and right, like the true refuge that sangha is supposed to be. They give me great optimism for my practice and its future evolution.

Saturday I attended my second Wise Speech workshop at CIMC with Narayan Liebenson Grady. It was interesting because it was one of the few times when people are encouraged to talk to one another, and I found it refreshing, meeting new people or renewing existing friendships.

One nugget I’d like to share is the following quote, which comes from Maha Ghosananda. While his name might not be familiar to most, he’s earned the nickname “the Gandhi of Cambodia” for his work during the brutal Khmer Rouge years that eradicated Buddhism in Cambodia. Here’s the quote:

The thought manifests as the word.
The word manifests as the deed.
The deed develops into the habit.
The habit hardens into the character.
The character gives birth to the destiny.
So, watch your thoughts with care
And let them spring from love
Born out of respect for all beings.

Narayan shared this as a way to put Wise Speech into context as one of the bases upon which our actions depend. This makes clear the reasons behind the Buddhist emphasis on training oneself to engage in wise thought, speech, and action: they are are what drive our habits, our character, and our destiny.

This runs parallel to my main revelation during the workshop, which is to view speech as “instant karma”. Speech has instant, irrevocable results: speak in an unwise way, and you reap immediate repercussions.

Speech is an ideal part of one’s life to work with, because it is concrete, it’s easy to control, and you can see its results immediately. And, of course, it’s an area where most people act without any thought. There’s no other element of practice that yields such obvious results for such a small investment of effort.

After the workshop, a bunch of people from our ever-growing circle of dharma friends got together for a birthday dinner at the Elephant Walk. It’s a Cambodian restaurant, which was a bit ironic given the Ghosananda quote earlier in the day. After dinner we went for ice cream at Lizzie’s in Harvard Square, where I had my favorite: a frappe with chocolate chip ice cream and vanilla syrup, a personal creation I’ve always called “Corrugated Fun”.

This provided ample amusement, thanks to an event earlier in the day. Since lunch wasn’t provided for the workshop, a couple of us went over to the local Whole Foods to pick something up. I grabbed some fresh berries, but put those down when I discovered that they had Haagen-Dazs Cookies & Cream ice cream. Everyone was amused that I put away a pint of ice cream over lunch. Having more ice cream after supper (which I’d ordered “spicy”) only cemented my reputation as having an iron stomach.

I might have even scared them when I offered to recruit a few of them to come with me when the Jimmy Fund’s annual Scooper Bowl comes takes place in June!

Then I came home to some really surreal news, but that’s a story for another—friends-locked—post.

Frequent topics