The Bubble-wrap experiment

Guess what wrapped tightly around my waist.

The roll of bubble wrap

11.4.25

This blog is all about mum, but this time it's all about me, and a story about bubble wrap.

One of my many challenges while doing a silent meditation retreat is my very noisy tummy.

Over the 10 days of the course, we students sit on a mat in the hall for about 10 hours a day. There are around 60 people in the hall - 2 assistant teachers, 25 male students, 25 female students, and 10 helpers.

The gong sounds and the one-hour session begins. The hall falls silent - no movement of hands, feet, eyes, or mouth.  You could almost hear a feather drop.

And then my stomach jumps to life

At every meditation session till now, I’ve wrapped my abdomen tightly with a folded long narrow blanket, and on top of that, a larger blanket, hoping to muffle the noises inside. But my efforts to soundproof my stomach have failed. It feels like I've got a whole farmyard inside me - I think of Shirley Temple’s ‘animal crackers in my soup’. I can hear pigs snorting, cats fighting, dogs growling, frogs croaking. And then there are the sounds of water gurgling up and down a drain. Noises still find their way out from above and below the blankets - one gurgles up my throat, while another makes a fart sound somewhere down below.

I’m trying so hard to hold my tummy in and block the noises, but instead, I'm just making them louder and more varied.

My head hurts from the effort. I'm sure everyone around me can hear every single gurgle. The girl behind me groans, and I'm convinced it's because my noisy stomach is getting on her nerves. The gong finally rings, signaling the end of the hour. I feel exhausted and defeated as I head back to my room.

For the past 25 years of meditation retreats, my noisy tummy has been my constant companion. You'd think I would've figured out a solution by now. I've even thought about making a soundproof jacket and asked a lady at Spotlight (a store that specialise in fabrics for sewing and DIY projects) if she sold any soundproof material. She just shook her head.

A minute before I left home to come to this retreat, I remembered my tummy concerns and had a light bulb moment — maybe bubble wrap could help. I quickly cut 4 metres from a roll in the attic and stuffed it into my bag.

On the 7th day of the course, I remembered the bubble wrap in my suitcase. I pulled it out, and wrapped it tightly around my waist. What did I have to lose? I didn’t have any tape, but I had a woollen vest which would do the job and hold the wrap firmly against my tummy. I looked like a blown-up toy.

The gong went, and another one-hour session was about to begin. I threw on a loose jacket over my bulging body and waddled to the hall, hoping no one would hear the crinkling plastic. Luckily I made it to my cushion before the hall filled up.  I wrapped myself in the blue blanket—first the light blue one, then the dark blue one. I felt like Humpty Dumpty about to topple over.

The session started, and so did my inner symphony. I thought the bubble wrap was helping a bit, but it wasn't enough. Noises still escaped. Then, a new problem hit. I had wrapped the bubble wrap so tightly around me that I was finding it difficult to breathe. I couldn't expand my lungs.

It was also a very hot day, and I was sweating all over. The combination of not being able to breathe properly and the heat was becoming unbearable. I can usually handle unbearable situations – this course is about ‘overcoming misery’, but this was too much. I started feeling faint and nauseous, rocking back and forth to soothe myself.

The gong finally rang, and I couldn't have been more relieved. I unwrapped my blankets, jumped up quickly (even though you're supposed to walk slowly), and dashed to my room. I tore off my vest and peeled away the bubble wrap layers, followed by my shirt and singlet.  I finally fell onto my bed, sweaty and panting.

That was it -  the first and last time I'd ever do the ‘the bubble wrap experiment.’ I managed to get through the next 3 days, the blankets muffled things enough, and anyway, what you learn at the retreat is ‘annica’  – everything passes – even the rumbles.

***Just a side note, after the course, I apologised to the girl sitting behind me for my noisy stomach. She said she hadn't heard a thing.

#meditation #vipassanameditation #rumblingstomach #WixBlog

Close-up of the little bubbles in the bubble wrap :-)