9. Fasting(1)
⑧ How did I end up going to the U.S.?
Nine-Day Water Fasting.
After finishing FoQi, ChanQi(an intensive Chan retreat) began.
Even before coming to the U.S., I had heard that fasting was one of the cultivations here. Since I would be spending three months in winter retreat, I had already made up my mind that I should try it.
But after that unexpectedly long sit before ChanQi, I found it hard to stay in full lotus during ChanQi. Someone said fasting can make sitting easier. That caught my attention.
Apparently, a nine-day water fasting was the basic standard.
The fasting Dharma door here allowed only one cup of water a day—about 250ml. In other words, one 500ml bottle had to last two days.
I jumped in.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t that hungry at first. I still had some energy, so instead of just sitting quietly in the Buddha Hall, I cleaned the bathrooms in the morning and emptied the trash bins. The rest of the time, I followed the ChanQi schedule: sitting for an hour, walking for twenty minutes, starting at 3 a.m. and continuing until midnight.
By the third day of fasting, I began to feel slightly dizzy when standing up at the sound of the bell. Still, I tried to walk briskly around the hall to keep my energy circulating. As the days passed, the thirst became more intense.
Whenever I stepped outside for a bit of air, I’d see orange trees everywhere—California-style—heavy with bright, plump fruit.
'I want to gather all those oranges, squeeze them into a bucket, and drink the whole thing in one go …'
There was thirst and some dizziness when standing up, but it was still manageable.
After all, Day 9 was coming soon!
But then…
Something felt off.
People who were about to complete their fasting kept extending their goal by a day or two. Every evening during the ChanQi talk, they would ask Master:
People: “Tomorrow will be my ninth day. What should I do?”
Master: “Wow~ You look good. You can do three more days.”
'Don’t ask!!' I screamed inside. T__T
Well… what choice did I have? Even though I already knew the answer, I asked anyway.
Of course—three extra days.
But fortunately, after Day 9, we were allowed to drink as much water as we wanted.
'Why didn’t you say that earlier?!'
It felt like discovering an oasis in the desert. Even if I had to fast longer, I no longer felt resentful.
The beggar who had been rationing 250ml of water like treasure suddenly became a nouveau riche, gulping down water whenever I pleased, indulging in this unexpected luxury.
That bliss didn’t last long.
The smell of food drifting up from the kitchen started to make me nauseous. Even the air inside the Buddha Hall felt suffocating.
Whenever I went outside for some air, I would grab a handful of grass and hold it to my nose. Once the nausea started, it was just a simple way to get through it.
Then I became bolder.
I took a lemon from the kitchen, scratched its peel with my fingernail, and held it to my nose to inhale the scent. (Technically, it felt like cheating, so I wasn’t exactly proud of it.)
It must have looked… well, I’ve never seen it in real life, but perhaps something like a drug addict inhaling powder through the nose.
I was wearing my sash, sitting in the Buddha Hall during ChanQi—but there was nothing dignified or majestic about me. Far from the image of an adorned cultivator, I was more like a suffering homeless person.
And so I barely kept myself going, sniffing in the dark hall, waiting for Day 12.
December 2019, winter at WMT—surviving on the scent of lemons during my fast.(To be continued)
(If you are considering fasting as a cultivation, please consult an experienced member of the Sangha first.)