《美食祈禱和戀愛》Chapter 107 (260):沉默不語的九天

Then everything started coming up. In that state of silence, there was room now for everything hateful, everything fearful, to run across my empty mind. I felt like a junkie in detox, convulsing with the poison of what emerged. I cried a lot. I prayed a lot. It was difficult and it was terrifying, but this much I knew—I never didn't want to be there, and I never wished that anyone were there with me. I knew that I needed to do this and that I needed to do it alone.

The only other tourists on the island were a handful of couples having romantic vacations. (Gili Meno is far too pretty and far too remote a place for anyone but a crazy person to come visit solo.) I watched these couples and felt some envy for their romances, but knew, "This is not your time for companionship, Liz. You have a different task here." I kept away from everyone. People on the island left me alone. I think I threw off a spooky vibe. I had not been well all year. You can't lose that much sleep and that much weight and cry so hard for so long without starting to look like a psychotic. So nobody talked to me.

Actually, that's not true. One person talked to me, every day. It was this little kid, one of a gang of kids who run up and down the beaches trying to sell fresh fruit to the tourists. This boy was maybe nine years old, and seemed to be the ringleader. He was tough, scrappy and I would have called him street-smart if his island actually had any streets. He was beach-smart, I suppose. Somehow he'd learned great English, probably from harassing sunbathing Westerners. And he was on to me, this kid. Nobody else asked me who I was, nobody else bothered me, but this relentless child would come and sit next to me on the beach at some point every day and demand, "Why don't you ever talk? Why are you strange like this? Don't pretend you can't hear me—I know you can hear me. Why are you always alone? Why don't you ever go swimming? Where is your boyfriend? Why don't you have a husband? What's wrong with you?"

I was like, Back off, kid! What are you—a transcript of my most evil thoughts?

Every day I would try to smile at him kindly and send him away with a polite gesture, but he wouldn't quit until he got a rise out me. And inevitably, he always got a rise out of me. I remember bursting out at him once, "I'm not talking because I'm on a friggin' spiritual journey, you nasty little punk—now go AWAY!"

He ran away laughing. Every day, after he'd gotten me to respond, he would always run away laughing. I'd usually end up laughing, too, once he was out of sight. I dreaded this pesky kid and looked forward to him in equal measure. He was my only comedic break during a really tough ride. Saint Anthony once wrote about having gone into the desert on silent re-treat and being assaulted by all manner of visions—devils and angels, both. He said, in his solitude, he sometimes encountered devils who looked like angels, and other times he found angels who looked like devils. When asked how he could tell the difference, the saint said that you can only tell which is which by the way you feel after the creature has left your company. If you are appalled, he said, then it was a devil who had visited you. If you feel lightened, it was an angel.

I think I know what that little punk was, who always got a laugh out of me.

On my ninth day of silence, I went into meditation one evening on the beach as the sun was going down and I didn't stand up again until after midnight. I remember thinking, "This is it, Liz." I said to my mind, "This is your chance. Show me everything that is causing you sor-row. Let me see all of it. Don't hold anything back." One by one, the thoughts and memories of sadness raised their hands, stood up to identify themselves. I looked at each thought, at each unit of sorrow, and I acknowledged its existence and felt (without trying to protect myself from it) its horrible pain. And then I would tell that sorrow, "It's OK. I love you. I accept you. Come into my heart now. It's over." I would actually feel the sorrow (as if it were a living thing) enter my heart (as if it were an actual room). Then I would say, "Next?" and the next bit of grief would surface. I would regard it, experience it, bless it, and invite it into my heart, too. I did this with every sorrowful thought I'd ever had—reaching back into years of memory—until nothing was left.

而後一切開始浮現出來。在這種沉默狀態中，如今有餘地讓充滿憎恨與懼怕的一切東西，躥過我空蕩蕩的心。我覺得自己像在接受戒毒的毒癮患者，浮現的渴望使我抽搐。我經常哭。我經常禱告。儘管困難而可怕，我卻知道——我未嘗不想待在那裏，我未嘗希冀有人陪在身旁。我清楚自己非做不可，也清楚必須獨自進行才行。

島上的其他遊客是共度浪漫假期的幾對男女。（美儂島這地方太優美、太偏遠，瘋子纔會單獨造訪。）我看着這幾對男女，對於他們的浪漫假期有幾許羨慕之情，卻也明白："小莉，這可不是搞伴侶關係的時機。你在這裏有其他任務。"我和大家保持距離。島上的人並未打擾我。我想我投射出某種恐怖訊號。我的不佳狀況已持續經年。你若長期失眠、體重下降、哭泣，看起來也會像精神病患，因此沒有人找我說話。

這麼說其實不對。有個人天天找我說話，是個小孩，是在沙灘上跑來跑去、向遊客推銷新鮮水果的一大羣小孩之一。這名男孩約莫九歲，似乎是頭頭。他能吃苦而且好鬥，我會說他充滿街頭智慧，倘若他住的島上果真有任何街道的話。我相信，他充滿海灘智慧。出於某種原因，他學會說極佳的英語，可能是騷擾做日光浴的西方人學習而來的。這個孩子注意到我。沒有任何人問我是誰，沒有任何人打擾我，但是這名堅持不懈的孩子，卻在每天某個時間跑來坐在海灘上的我的身邊，查問："你怎麼從不說話？你怎麼這麼古怪？別假裝沒聽見我說話——我曉得你聽見我講話。你幹嗎老是自己一個人？你怎麼從來不去游泳？你的男朋友在哪裏？你怎麼沒嫁人？你有什麼毛病？"

我幾乎要說："滾開，小鬼！你幹嘛——解讀我最邪惡的思考？"

我每天儘量和藹可親地對他微笑，禮貌地示意要他走，但他毫不鬆手，直到把我惹毛。記得有一回我突然對他說："我之所以不說話，是因爲我他媽的正在從事一場心靈之旅，你這討人厭的小無賴——現在給我滾！"

他笑着跑開。每一天，在他激起我的迴應後，他總是笑着跑開。我通常最後也笑了，在看不見他的身影之後。我懼怕這惱人的孩子，卻又期盼他來。他是這段艱難的旅程途中唯一的喜劇片段。聖安東尼（SaintAnthony）曾敘述自己前往沙漠靜思期間遭受各種幻象襲擊——惡魔與天使；他說，他在獨處時，時而遭遇看似天使的惡魔，有時則發現看似惡魔的天使。當聖人被問及如何區分其差別，他說，只有在那東西離開你身邊後，你才分辨得出何者是何者。他說，你若膽顫心驚，造訪者就是惡魔。你若感到寬心，那就是天使。

我想我知道這小無賴是何者，他總是引我發笑。

沉默不語的第九天，傍晚日落時分，我在海灘禪坐，直到午夜過後才站起身來。我記得心想："這就是了，小莉。"我對自己的心說："這是你的機會。讓我看看你之所以哀傷的一切原因，讓我看到一切，切勿壓抑。"所有哀傷的想法與回憶隨之一一擡頭，站起身來自報姓名。我注視每一種想法，每一份哀傷，我對它們的存在表示認可，感覺到（並未嘗試保護自己而加以阻止）它們的劇痛。而後我對哀傷說："沒事。我愛你。我接受你。現在進來我的心吧，都過去了。"我真的感覺到哀傷（彷彿哀傷是有生命的東西）進入我的心（彷彿心是真實的房間）。然後我說："接下來是哪位？"下一個憂愁於是現身而出。我看着它，體驗它，祝福它，並邀請它也進入我的心。我如此處置曾經有過的每一種哀傷想法——回溯多年的記憶——直到一點東西也不剩。