How ten days behind the scenes of a Vipassana course can change your perception of service, humility, and your own motivation — even if your entire “meditation” takes place at the sink.
These reflections come from Ruslan Gafarov, entrepreneur and founder of the San Francisco Innovation Hub.
I observed the one within me. Someone was wondering: why am I here?
Why did all these people leave their work, their families, their wives, their children — to be completely offline and not just to practice, but… to cook meals, peel onions, chop carrots, and wash dishes?
To do all this so that the Vipassana course for 80 people could run smoothly. So that the food would be ready on time, and the dishes clean.
The dishes — I especially felt that part 🙂
I don’t think I’ve ever washed so many in my life.
Three times a day.
For 100 people — 80 taking the course, about 20 taking care of them and the venue.
I had never worked in a kitchen before.
And when roles were assigned, I decided to take responsibility for the dishes. That was an area I knew I could handle: water, soap, dishwasher, cloths, gloves — all straightforward.
But misunderstanding something in the menu in English and adding too much or too little of something — that could ruin a dish for a hundred people. I didn’t want to take on that kind of risk, because I wasn’t there to prove anything — I was there to observe.
So I chose the role of dishwasher. Yes, I helped others peel onions, chop zucchini — but only when I had spare time. The rest of the time, I washed dishes endlessly.
It was a good exercise in working with the ego. And in humility. The work was monotonous, requiring no mental engagement. For me, it became an extension of meditation. I observed my inner dialogue. I watched the changes. I noticed what appeared and what faded away. I tracked my intention. From which universe was I looking at the world?
I set myself a task:
to observe my thoughts and choose only those that positively affect my state — and those around me.
Here, intention is very important.
Why are you here? For what purpose?
If you can explain it to yourself and align with it — you bring benefit. If not — you suffer and spread that suffering to others. That’s why I kept returning to the question:
with what intention am I performing my service in the kitchen?
If you forget why you’re here — for humility, working with the ego, selfless help to an organization that has helped you — you fall into disgust, dissatisfaction, into “dirty work.”
And so, standing at the dishes, I remembered my assignments in the kitchen at the Ministry of Internal Affairs school in 2001. I recalled my motivation back then. And the motivation of those around me — classmates, commanders, instructors. I felt that back then everything seemed like service, but it was permeated with something else — mostly negativity. Even though everyone took an oath and spoke of a noble duty. I remembered how many joined not out of calling, but by inertia — “sons of someone’s acquaintances,” simply because “you had to go somewhere.” Barracks, strict routine, marching drills, special disciplines, sports… It was hard. Many wanted to “escape”:
Onions under the eyes, a bottle of hot water under the armpit, tears to get a sick leave. Some ran away and never returned. Platoon commanders? They mostly wanted to curry favor with leadership and assert themselves. And the leadership? Mostly interested in bribes. For those who didn’t pay — like me — it was tough: no one noticed us, and we became targets for the commanders. But I did sports. When I was pressured, I defended myself. Several times it ended in knockouts — to platoon commanders, sergeants, classmates. I was on the edge. I could have been expelled. But my inner sense of justice was stronger than fear.
And at that moment, I believed — I was doing the right thing. With all these memories of that motivation, I stood washing dishes.
Now — not to gain favor. Not to prove anything. But to truly serve. To observe my ego. To be in silence. To support the center that teaches Vipassana using Goenka’s method.
