At the moment this post is published--Monday evening--I'm probably miserable. But I can't say for sure.
Monday is the third full day of a week-long silent meditation retreat I'm attending. Since being on a silent meditation retreat means cutting off all contact with the world, I had to write this post before the retreat started. But since this isn't my first week-long meditation retreat, I can with some confidence predict how I'll be feeling three days into it. And it's not a great feeling.
As I put it a couple of years ago in a piece I wrote about my first meditation retreat:
"We spent 5.5 hours per day in sitting meditation, 5.5 hours per day in walking meditation. By day three I was feeling achy, far from nirvana and really, really sick of the place.
I was sick of my 5 a.m. "yogi job" (vacuuming), I was sick of the bland vegetarian food, and I wasn't especially fond of all those Buddhists with those self-satisfied looks on their faces, walking around serenely like they knew something I didn't know (which, it turns out, they did)."