Have you ever wanted to simply disengage from your world for a few days? To unplug, get off the grid, and marinate in a sea of silence right in the heart of nature? Well, that’s what I’m doing right now. Except it was a rough passage to find this sea of tranquility.

I started the retreat in a fetal position, with pain and vomiting from the predictable pressure in my head that precedes a storm. At 2 am on Sunday, my birthday and the day of departure, I awoke with an intense pressure in my head from the fistulas expanding like balloons from the low barometric pressure that precedes a storm. If I don’t jump up out of bed right away to take strong pain medication, then I miss the little window of time I have to dull the pain and avoid the nonstop vomiting that is part of this unpleasant package.

Once the vomiting starts, it’s relentless, about every hour. No food or water stays down. The danger is dehydration which could lead to the kidneys shutting down if the vomiting doesn’t subside within 24 hours. One time the vomiting continued for 48 hours and I had to ask an ER doctor friend to come to my house and give me three liters of IV saline water. Unfortunately the misadventure occurred while one of my sisters was visiting from out of town. It was frightening for her to watch. The good news is that, since taking high CBD hemp oil, the frequency and intensity of these catastrophes has lessened significantly. I had been feeling so well over the past few months, I sometimes forgot to take the oil every single night before bed. This was one of those nights I forgot.

With some luck on my side, I was assigned to give a ride to two retreat participants from out of town, Franca from Toronto and Robert from San Diego. Franca agreed to drive my car while Robert navigated with his Garmin GPS in the passenger seat. I lay in the back, with inaudible moans escaping now and then.

When we arrived at Ocamora, with the pain medication on board, I was able to participate in the orientation and the welcome dinner. To my surprise, I noticed that half of the thirteen participants were patients of mine. I was happy to see them. Since I don’t put on airs as a doctor and tend to act without pretense with my patients, I didn’t feel any shame at being sick with the migraine.

That night the pain in my head escalated; the following day came the dreaded vomiting. I spent the entire day lying under an ancient apple tree on a bed of blankets. I was somehow able to feel a sense of joy in spite of the pain and vomiting. The scene in front of me was irresistibly beautiful in a lush and inviting way, with meadow after meadow of greenery and apple orchards, surrounded by a symphony of bird sounds. Between the pangs of misery, I felt moments of bliss. I was not going to let the pain and vomiting get in the way of communing with nature.

At the end of Day Two of the retreat, something nearly miraculous happened. I slept for eight hours for the first time since the snowboarding accident in 2007 and awoke feeling fabulous. My usual pattern for the last eight years has been 4 hours of poor quality sleep, followed by 4 hours of mindfulness meditation while still in bed, supine—without which I wouldn’t be able to function the next day. What ecstasy to sleep like the old days. Now my challenge is not to get too devastated if it’s only a one time occurrence related to profound exhaustion.

Tuesday, June 16^th, 2015

What a joyous feeling to be here and fully present for this magical experience.

Ocamora lies two hours northeast of Santa Fe, not far from Ocate, in Mora County, originally part of the Mora Land Grant. The remote 350-acre retreat center encompasses both sides of a long, narrow valley. The valley was first inhabited by the Jicarillo Apaches, then by thirteen families from Mexico City that migrated north to farm this valley. The Spanish spoken to this day in the area is distinct from the Spanish spoken elsewhere in New Mexico. The Spanish were followed in the 1850s by the white settlers.

Patti Cavalletto and Michael Broome, friends of mine, bought this land over 30 years ago with the dream of making an intentional land-based community. They lovingly restored the land and built beautiful, rustic homes for themselves and their friends with great attention to detail and aesthetics. But, over time, the focus turned away from creating an intentional community. Patti and Broome—as Michael is affectionately called—began holding workshops and retreats at Ocamora. After a few years, the upkeep of the land became too much work and too expensive for Patti and Broome; it looked like they would have to sell their magnificent stretch of the valley. A band of friends heard the call for help and formed a nonprofit organization to run the retreats and lease the center from them. Within a short amount of time, Ocamora became a favorite place for group leaders to run their seminars, workshops, or retreats.

The land is gorgeous, lush by New Mexico standards, and full of wildlife. In the fall the bears come to raid the apple trees in the 150-year-old apple orchards. The long valley is full of elk at this time of year. They can be seen in the meadows in the early morning. There are deer, coyote, and mountain lions. And there are so many birds, I feel like I’m in a bird sanctuary? The valley is guarded by Hall’s Peak that looks down upon the green fields with benevolence.

Come with me. I’ll show you around this magical place.

The retreat is mostly in silence. We’re housed in sweet little cabins that look like miniature Swiss chalets, all wood, finely crafted. Some participants prefer to stay in yurts. One man brought his tent and placed it right at the edge of a large meadow so he could view the herd of elk that congregate in that area at first light. Attractive out houses are scattered around the property.

We’re mostly off the grid with some exceptions. I can feel immediately that I’m not anywhere near cell towers or heavy use of wireless because my nervous system no longer has the humming sensation that I’ve learned to live with. There’s such a deep calm here that one doesn’t find in the midst of the grid. There’s a sense of peace beyond words.

 

Alicia Allen, our group leader, is an extremely gifted, multi-talented body-worker, artist, writer, meditation instructor and dharma leader in Santa Fe. Our retreat is a combination of writing, creative play, dharma talks, meditation, walks in nature, and contemplation in the richness of silence. We are encouraged not to use our electronic devices. I asked for an exception to be made to use the one and only place that has wireless for a few minutes so I could get a blog post off to you. My rationale was that the blog post combines photography, writing, and a bit of contemplation—all of which are encouraged on this retreat.

I better sign off for now. I’m supposed to keep the internet use to a bare minimum. I’ll tell you more later about what we’re up to in the retreat. But, before I say good-bye, I’d like to leave you with a treat. It’s something we recite each morning after our meditation session. Get comfortable, take a deep breath in and a deep breathe out and just let the words soak in.

Free and Easy: A Spontaneous Vajra Song

by Venerable Gendun Rinpoche

Don’t strain yourself,

there is nothing to do or undo.

Whatever momentarily arises in the body-mind

has no real importance at all,

has little reality whatsoever.

Why identify with, and become attached to it,

passing judgment upon it and ourselves?

 

Far better to simply

let the entire game happen on its own,

springing up and falling back like waves—

without changing or manipulating anything—

and notice how everything vanishes and

reappears, magically, again and again,

time without end.

 

Only our searching for happiness

prevents us from seeing it.

It’s like a vivid rainbow you pursue without ever catching,

or a dog chasing its own tail.

 

Although peace and happiness do not exist

as an actual thing or place,

it is always available

and accompanies you in every instant.

 

Don’t believe in the reality

of good or bad experiences;

they are like today’s ephemeral weather,

like rainbows in the sky.

 

Wanting to grasp the ungraspable,

you exhaust yourself in vain.

As soon as you open and relax this tight fist of grasping,

Infinite space is there—open, inviting and comfortable.

 

Make use of this spaciousness, this freedom and natural ease.

Don’t search any further.

Don’t go into the tangled jungle

looking for the great awakened elephant,

who is already resting quietly at home

in front of your own hearth.

 

Nothing to do or undo.

Nothing to force, nothing to want

and nothing missing—

Emaho! Marvelous!

Everything happens by itself.