2005 Green River Retreat. Betty Jo Black, center (purple shorts), Johann next
to her, Eric Kolvig at far right (black t-shirt).

A Note from Johann: My Personal Journey

Since I was a child being in nature has felt spiritual. This connection grew through my teens and twenties, fed by a daily meditation practice begun in college, and many long backpacks, often solo, into the Rockies and Sierras.

In the late 1990’s I trained as a wilderness Vision Quest guide, and also started practicing Vipassana meditation. My second retreat was with Eric Kolvig at a center in the mountains near Tucson. I told him I wished we were sitting outside, and he replied that he taught silent backpacking meditation retreats. I was excited that such a thing existed.

The following April I was in Arizona, on the trail with Eric and guides and longtime meditators Terry Gustafson and Betty Jo Black. For the next ten days our group silently hiked, camped and meditated, following winding trails down through numerous canyons to Rainbow Bridge at Lake Powell. That retreat was a coming home for me, anchoring the Dharma and wilderness into my lifelong intention to experience the whole of what I am.

The retreat was beautiful and challenging. One day the wind grew stronger, until we were in a full-on sandstorm. I was filled with fear, which rose and fell with each gust. That night the wind got incredibly intense and I could not sleep. I lay awake, following each gust in my mind as it howled and moaned, like the breath of an angry god. After a few hours, focusing on wind and fear had concentrated my mind. At some point I started doing Metta (Lovingkindness) practice, which deepened the concentration, and the fear and aversion began to change into interest and pleasure.

At dawn I went outside and sat on a log, and suddenly everything let go; wind, sand, fear, discomfort, the sleepless night, the poor me; it all evaporated and there was simply a quiet awareness that had no subject or object. Later when thought and identity returned, fear and resistance stayed gone; the wind was just wind and the sand was just sand, and I felt grateful, safe and happy. That evening I helped make dinner, and as gust after gust blew out the stoves and swirled sand into the food we just kept dissolving into helpless laughter.

Since then, over many years of leading silent nature and wilderness retreats, I have seen how they foster deep practice on many levels. In wilderness the environment is pure Dharma, manifesting moment to moment. There is nothing “selfing”in nature, so it is easier to see through our own selfing.

Wild nature opens us to changing conditions we cannot control. We experience discomfort, inconvenience, danger and the reality of death, along with sublime beauty, perfection and power. Not Self, Impermanence and Unsatisfactoriness are everywhere in nature, which can make insight into them more accessible. Containing all of this is a profound limitless beauty and peace, the immensity of which continually encourages us to let go into gratitude and presence.

On retreat, backcountry travel becomes part of our formal practice. Whether paddling or hiking, movement is meditation that can become concentrated and rapturous. Paddling a river or hiking a trail is “going with the flow”, as canyon walls or mountain ridges glide silently by, constantly changing, as meditation deepens and deepens.

In nature all of us depend on Sangha in direct ways. Each retreat group is an interdependent life support system, with everyone taking care of themselves and each other mindfully and silently. Simple tasks become gifts to self and Sangha, manifesting love and connection, and creating deep physical and emotional safety.

The Buddha lived and practiced in nature, was enlightened in nature, and taught in nature. In that tradition I offer these retreats, in the hope you will be inspired, healed, loved, and awakened.

With Much Metta,

Johann Robbins