I'm going to go camping at Anchor Dam, WY. I'm planning to stay out there for nearly 60 days. The tai chi is nearing completion. About another week's worth of hard work should solidify it in my body, and I can take it into the wilderness to practice.
Yesterday we went to look at the campsite - there is actually a developed campsite, but the wind was ripping through the little canyon. Since the dam hardly works, there isn't much water. The dust and silt was getting lifted by the winds. It looked like a desert sandstorm. We braved this wind and dust for a short walk, eyeing the site from afar. At one point, I walked into a little saddleback where I got my first good view of the campsite. At this point a huge gust of wind ripped through the saddleback, and I was filled with an ominous feeling. Looking at the small grove of trees in the distance where I'm planning to spend almost two months alone filled me with a subtle terror. Not really because of the bears or snakes, because I plan to take all possible precautions, but the thought of being there alone, meditating and practicing Tai Chi.
I've been considering whether I should bring some books, and I'm leaning towards no. Emerson says of many a man, "He knew nothing better to do, so he read." And this is why I would take books - as a distraction. Anything to keep my mind off the things my mind most wants (does not want) to contemplate. So yes, the terror I felt is something akin to many of my earlier Vipassana courses around the second day, when you start asking yourself what you've gotten into.
All that being said, I feel ready for this retreat, and I do have a specific purpose to practice Tai Chi and commune with nature and myself. I've been trying to decide whether to set a more specific intention for spiritual affairs. It's hard to set something, when I still feel so restless inside. I think of the following lines of Kabir:
There are seasons in the mind,
great currents and winds move there,
the true yogi ties a rein to them; a power plant
he becomes.
