Participant Testimonial
from Spring Guan Yin Retreat 2025
Q: This was your first retreat at CTTB. How did you learn about it?
A: I visited CTTB with the annual Buddhist Bicycle Pilgrimage years ago. At the time, it struck me as this wildly ornate Mahayana monastery with huge murals of guardian spirits and literally 10,000 gilded Buddha statues in the main hall. This was long before DRBU and the IGDVS (K-12 schools) were accredited. I've been on the mailing list ever since.
Q: Was it different from other retreats you've done?
A: My experience is mainly Vipassana retreats. CTTB is different because it's a monastery and not a retreat center, and retreatants join a monastic community that's already in progress. The Guan Yin retreat is a week-long celebration that's already on their calendar 3 times per year, and they have an established daily schedule with various recitations and practices. Going into the hall is a bit like learning to swim by jumping into the deep end of the pool.
But no one gets thrown in the pool. There's a helpful orientation period, and retreatants immerse themselves in the meditation hall at whatever pace is comfortable. But aside from the monks who provide orientation, and on-going access to them, there's no teacher in the meditation hall offering dharma talks or curating the experience.
In fact, this immersion quickly became my favorite aspect of the practice. In the hall, you're surrounded by experienced practitioners who are hugely generous. They help you to follow along, learn the recitations, bow at the right times, and keep pace during walking periods. You realize this is a community effort with one practitioner helping the next, and that's how it's been working for centuries
Q: Let's get to the important question... how was the food?
A: Ha! Yes! Mealtime on retreat is always a highlight of the day.
Due to the monastic form, many participants take a single meal per day. But it's not required. Along with other newcomers, I had breakfast and evening snacks. The food is simple, plain, and vegetarian. The main meal (lunch) is sumptuous.
I should note that after the retreat, I have a curious and very strong aversion to eating meat. I’ve never had a physical urge to stop eating meat like I'm noticing now. I'd enjoy making that change.
Q: After the retreat, you seemed happy with the experience. Do you care to tell me about it?
A: I can describe things generally, and yeah, my experience was outstanding. But I want to be clear that I'm not rejecting previous retreat experiences just because they were different from this one. If I compare my CTTB experience to other traditions, it's not to make negative comparisons. I feel gratitude to the teachers and traditions that bring me to this moment, and they play a role in this recent experience.
Q: How did you choose the Guan Yin retreat?
A: I owe the choice to a natural shift in daily practice. I've always leaned towards dedication and discipline... except for occasional years when I got completely distracted. Over time, I was convinced that metta practice (and the brahma viharas in general) held promise for changes I want to effect in my personality. Guan Yin is the central figure for this in Mahayana Buddhism.
Simultaneously, I began to see my dedication as devotion. Who would've thought that after a few decades, I'd admit to myself that I'm devoted to practice? I really enjoy it. This shift of a single word led me towards Zen and experiments with bowing and chanting practices.
Those changes were a nice preparation for the DRBU experience. I'd already made peace with the religious connotations of bowing and the metaphysical realms of Mahayana Buddhism. And the physical conditioning of my bowing practice made it easier to adapt to the CTTB format.
So that's why I signed up for the Guan Yin retreat. It was very affordable and I could learn Chan recitation and bowing practices. I arrived with trepidation but enough confidence to make it through the week. What I didn't guess was that the experience would feel transformational.
Q: Wow. That's a big word. Why do you say that?
A: My description can't do the experience justice. Years ago, a teacher advised, "When family and friends ask how the retreat went, just say, 'It was good.' and leave it at that. Most people don't really want to know the details. And if they do, let them ask."
So if you don't want details, it's best to stop listening now. Ha!
Where to begin? It’s not easy to describe because it’s such a totality, an embodied experience of energy, sight, sounds, smells and touch. What is the sensation of a bow, or a second day of bows, recitations, and walking meditations? The description barely approaches the experience.
But to give an idea, look at the after effects. It's been a week since the retreat, and I have this continuous practice throughout all moments of the day. Sure, I get lost in thoughts, but it doesn’t take long before I hear a Guan Yin mantra repeating internally and shift my attention in that direction.
The effect magnifies whenever I'm alone anywhere during the day. Whether I'm walking along the sidewalk, climbing a set of stairs, or brushing my teeth, there's a continuous Guan Yin chant running through my mind. Or to clarify, my mind attends to something felt in my heart. It's quite extraordinary for me. I've never experienced sensations like this.
Q: And you think that's a direct result of the retreat?
A: No question, yes. It's the same energetic quality that you feel in the meditation hall. This experience is not unique to me. Everyone in the room knows the feeling of Qi moving through the diaphragm in circular repetition. The sound resonates through the chest, throat, and head, up and down, around and around. It’s just the most wonderful sensation. It's not magical or philosophical or intellectual. It’s just a very real resonance produced by the intonations of a chant. When you're in the CTTB meditation hall with 200 people doing a recitation, the air and walls vibrate with the sound. It gets inside you and it takes up residence there. You leave the retreat and you're out in the world realizing, "Wow... it's still there. Still available."
So yeah, there's a broad shift in body and thought. A contentment. No desire for entertainment, podcasts, television, or earpods. Instead, there's an urge to express generosity, a desire to be kind. It's a huge surprise that all four brahma viharas are arising of their own accord when they were barely mentioned at the retreat itself.
Q: You really seem to enjoy the recitations. Why do you think that is so?
A: Maybe it's related to the way the Guan Yin chants keep rising to mind. It feels important because the physical sensations are tangible. Theravada monks advise repeating a mantra as a way to crowd out unwholesome thoughts in the mind. I use the "Buddho" sound, and it’s really great. But now, here is Guan Yin spontaneously arising as a continuous practice.
Again, I owe any personal breakthrough with Guan Yin to the years of practice with Buddho. You know what teachers say, "Daily practice is a little thing that goes far."
Q: You noticed these changes during the retreat?
A: Not at all. During the retreat, there was an engagement with the form but no recognition of effects. In retrospect, I see a partial explanation. Imagine the energy levels you experience on a typical day. Maybe you wake up groggy, or the day feels quiet and tranquil. Later, you're famished and leaning into the day. There are spikes of attention and focus, and the heart beats fast and slow. Someone calls and you have a pleasant conversation... or a sad one. You bite into a sweet fruit enjoying the moment. All these ups and downs are the moments you get pulled into. Now imagine a day of the same ups and downs except the contents are replaced by a symphony of chanting, walking, bowing, and sitting. Where would you be with the same energies, but fewer stories to tell yourself? What would you learn with moods exposed to the winds of change?
Q: Any last thoughts to share?
A: Per usual, I've said too much already. But on the subject of transformation, my Zen teacher made a comment that impressed me. He said, “In my experience, after a meditation period that feels transformative, yes, the ego reasserts itself upon reentry to the world, but there’s a residual of the change that doesn't go away. It’s always there, and everything is always a little bit different thereafter.”
This haiku is for my teacher:
ripples chasing wind
heavy thunderclouds approach
little pond at rest
A: I visited CTTB with the annual Buddhist Bicycle Pilgrimage years ago. At the time, it struck me as this wildly ornate Mahayana monastery with huge murals of guardian spirits and literally 10,000 gilded Buddha statues in the main hall. This was long before DRBU and the IGDVS (K-12 schools) were accredited. I've been on the mailing list ever since.
Q: Was it different from other retreats you've done?
A: My experience is mainly Vipassana retreats. CTTB is different because it's a monastery and not a retreat center, and retreatants join a monastic community that's already in progress. The Guan Yin retreat is a week-long celebration that's already on their calendar 3 times per year, and they have an established daily schedule with various recitations and practices. Going into the hall is a bit like learning to swim by jumping into the deep end of the pool.
But no one gets thrown in the pool. There's a helpful orientation period, and retreatants immerse themselves in the meditation hall at whatever pace is comfortable. But aside from the monks who provide orientation, and on-going access to them, there's no teacher in the meditation hall offering dharma talks or curating the experience.
In fact, this immersion quickly became my favorite aspect of the practice. In the hall, you're surrounded by experienced practitioners who are hugely generous. They help you to follow along, learn the recitations, bow at the right times, and keep pace during walking periods. You realize this is a community effort with one practitioner helping the next, and that's how it's been working for centuries
Q: Let's get to the important question... how was the food?
A: Ha! Yes! Mealtime on retreat is always a highlight of the day.
Due to the monastic form, many participants take a single meal per day. But it's not required. Along with other newcomers, I had breakfast and evening snacks. The food is simple, plain, and vegetarian. The main meal (lunch) is sumptuous.
I should note that after the retreat, I have a curious and very strong aversion to eating meat. I’ve never had a physical urge to stop eating meat like I'm noticing now. I'd enjoy making that change.
Q: After the retreat, you seemed happy with the experience. Do you care to tell me about it?
A: I can describe things generally, and yeah, my experience was outstanding. But I want to be clear that I'm not rejecting previous retreat experiences just because they were different from this one. If I compare my CTTB experience to other traditions, it's not to make negative comparisons. I feel gratitude to the teachers and traditions that bring me to this moment, and they play a role in this recent experience.
Q: How did you choose the Guan Yin retreat?
A: I owe the choice to a natural shift in daily practice. I've always leaned towards dedication and discipline... except for occasional years when I got completely distracted. Over time, I was convinced that metta practice (and the brahma viharas in general) held promise for changes I want to effect in my personality. Guan Yin is the central figure for this in Mahayana Buddhism.
Simultaneously, I began to see my dedication as devotion. Who would've thought that after a few decades, I'd admit to myself that I'm devoted to practice? I really enjoy it. This shift of a single word led me towards Zen and experiments with bowing and chanting practices.
Those changes were a nice preparation for the DRBU experience. I'd already made peace with the religious connotations of bowing and the metaphysical realms of Mahayana Buddhism. And the physical conditioning of my bowing practice made it easier to adapt to the CTTB format.
So that's why I signed up for the Guan Yin retreat. It was very affordable and I could learn Chan recitation and bowing practices. I arrived with trepidation but enough confidence to make it through the week. What I didn't guess was that the experience would feel transformational.
Q: Wow. That's a big word. Why do you say that?
A: My description can't do the experience justice. Years ago, a teacher advised, "When family and friends ask how the retreat went, just say, 'It was good.' and leave it at that. Most people don't really want to know the details. And if they do, let them ask."
So if you don't want details, it's best to stop listening now. Ha!
Where to begin? It’s not easy to describe because it’s such a totality, an embodied experience of energy, sight, sounds, smells and touch. What is the sensation of a bow, or a second day of bows, recitations, and walking meditations? The description barely approaches the experience.
But to give an idea, look at the after effects. It's been a week since the retreat, and I have this continuous practice throughout all moments of the day. Sure, I get lost in thoughts, but it doesn’t take long before I hear a Guan Yin mantra repeating internally and shift my attention in that direction.
The effect magnifies whenever I'm alone anywhere during the day. Whether I'm walking along the sidewalk, climbing a set of stairs, or brushing my teeth, there's a continuous Guan Yin chant running through my mind. Or to clarify, my mind attends to something felt in my heart. It's quite extraordinary for me. I've never experienced sensations like this.
Q: And you think that's a direct result of the retreat?
A: No question, yes. It's the same energetic quality that you feel in the meditation hall. This experience is not unique to me. Everyone in the room knows the feeling of Qi moving through the diaphragm in circular repetition. The sound resonates through the chest, throat, and head, up and down, around and around. It’s just the most wonderful sensation. It's not magical or philosophical or intellectual. It’s just a very real resonance produced by the intonations of a chant. When you're in the CTTB meditation hall with 200 people doing a recitation, the air and walls vibrate with the sound. It gets inside you and it takes up residence there. You leave the retreat and you're out in the world realizing, "Wow... it's still there. Still available."
So yeah, there's a broad shift in body and thought. A contentment. No desire for entertainment, podcasts, television, or earpods. Instead, there's an urge to express generosity, a desire to be kind. It's a huge surprise that all four brahma viharas are arising of their own accord when they were barely mentioned at the retreat itself.
Q: You really seem to enjoy the recitations. Why do you think that is so?
A: Maybe it's related to the way the Guan Yin chants keep rising to mind. It feels important because the physical sensations are tangible. Theravada monks advise repeating a mantra as a way to crowd out unwholesome thoughts in the mind. I use the "Buddho" sound, and it’s really great. But now, here is Guan Yin spontaneously arising as a continuous practice.
Again, I owe any personal breakthrough with Guan Yin to the years of practice with Buddho. You know what teachers say, "Daily practice is a little thing that goes far."
Q: You noticed these changes during the retreat?
A: Not at all. During the retreat, there was an engagement with the form but no recognition of effects. In retrospect, I see a partial explanation. Imagine the energy levels you experience on a typical day. Maybe you wake up groggy, or the day feels quiet and tranquil. Later, you're famished and leaning into the day. There are spikes of attention and focus, and the heart beats fast and slow. Someone calls and you have a pleasant conversation... or a sad one. You bite into a sweet fruit enjoying the moment. All these ups and downs are the moments you get pulled into. Now imagine a day of the same ups and downs except the contents are replaced by a symphony of chanting, walking, bowing, and sitting. Where would you be with the same energies, but fewer stories to tell yourself? What would you learn with moods exposed to the winds of change?
Q: Any last thoughts to share?
A: Per usual, I've said too much already. But on the subject of transformation, my Zen teacher made a comment that impressed me. He said, “In my experience, after a meditation period that feels transformative, yes, the ego reasserts itself upon reentry to the world, but there’s a residual of the change that doesn't go away. It’s always there, and everything is always a little bit different thereafter.”
This haiku is for my teacher:
ripples chasing wind
heavy thunderclouds approach
little pond at rest
