'Day one nearly broke me.' I went to a silent retreat for 10 days. Here's what it was like.

It has been a few months since I completed a 10-day Vipassana silent retreat just an hour outside of Melbourne. Enough time to retrospectively ponder on my time living like a monk. No phone, no talking, no eye contact and a requirement to meditate for approximately 10 hours per day. 

You must be wondering, why? As I sat my family down to tell them I would be missing for a while, I was met with an uncomfortable pause, followed by hesitant laughter and then silence. 

"Is this a cult?" my sisters queried. The question seemed more like a statement. I assured them that it was my choice to attend and I could freely leave at any stage during the course. I explained that I really needed this detox.

Watch: Guided breathwork and mindfulness. Post continues after video. 

Arriving on day zero, I met with course managers who asked me to fill out a form which asked why I was here.

My answer was that I was tired of running away from myself. 

At this point, we had to hand in our phones, and to be frank, I felt weightless at thought of not being answerable to anybody for a while. I was directed to my room, which felt more like a cubicle as expected (the course is free to all students subject to a donation). I met my roommate, Shamni, who I connected with instantly.

But in just a few hours, the rules would kick in and we'd no longer be able to speak to each other.  

We were all briefed about the rules that we would pledge our oath to during the course - no killing (not even spiders), no stealing, no lying, no sexual activity (men’s and women’s quarters remained separate) and no intoxicants. By 8pm noble silence was enacted, the course had officially commenced. 9:30pm lights out. 4am wake up call. Rinse and repeat for 10 days. 

Image: Supplied.

Day one nearly broke me. In tears, I spoke to our Vipassana practitioner (we were only authorised to speak to course managers and practitioners during certain times). I told her this kumbaya maybe wasn’t for me, that maybe I was wasting my time being there. 

She sat like Yoda and assured me that if I left, my internal conflicts would still linger, that I would be numbing myself with all the things the modern world strangles us with in order to conceal them. She assured me that not many take this journey; I was here for a reason and it was the bravest decision I had made in my life.

After some self-reflection, I knew she was right. So I stayed.

Between day one and day three, we learnt the art of Anapana, a technique that solely focuses on the breath of the nose, ‘the touch of the breath’, coined by Vipassana messiah S.N Goenka who introduced the practice in India in 1969. 

By doing this, students could subdue their minds. With our eyes closed, our focus became razor sharp and by day four, we entered the Vipassana stage. Like a laser, our mind could scan parts of our body and emit a sensation only for the superhuman. But we weren’t superhuman. The intensified vibrations which felt like I was floating was only achievable because I was in my body. Entering Vipassana reminded me why I needed to be here. That moments are lost in the madness of our minds, the stories we tell ourselves, the intoxication of escapism and automated reactions. We were reminded that whatever we were feeling during our meditation, whether it be euphoria or pain, everything was impermanent.

Image: Supplied.

The practice was all about not reacting but objectively observing what is and letting it go. If we could understand the law of impermanence, then it would be the key to end our suffering and bring us the peace we longed for. The thing is, peace is not a destination. It can be accessed in the here and now if we stopped craving or chasing the highs and averting from the lows, annica, annica – nothing lasts forever, we were reminded. 

While Vipassana is described as an intensive surgical operation of mind, this was also a very physical practice. From day four, we were required to ‘sit strongly’ three hours per day, called the adhitthana. This meant refraining from any movement, training our minds in the art of ‘non-reaction’ to any ache, itch or scratch. Everything hurt, from my back, to my hip flexors to my knees. By the end of the course I was seated on a throne full of cushions to support my body. The journey to liberation is hell, I thought.

Every night we were graced by the presence of S.N Goenka. It is safe to say that everyone looked forward to his discourse, distributed via a projector, his parables and metaphorical ideations provided us with answers to our internal feelings along with some much needed humour. He knew exactly what we were going through at each stage of the course. He reminded us what Vipassana was not, that while segments of the practice had been derived from Buddhism, this was non-sectarian, everyone was welcome.

Day six, according to Goenka, is the day people pack up shop and leave, and indeed on that day I hit another wall. Hearing the sound of the highway, the sound that felt so freeing, I lingered around the perimeter of the complex where my car was parked and told myself, ‘Stef, all you need to do is grab your keys.’

Image: Supplied.

In our downtime, we found hope and healing in nature, marvelling at the beauty of sunrises, sunsets and stars. We were fed a highly nutritious vegetarian diet, with only a few pieces of fruit for dinner. This was more than enough considering the amount of energy we were burning (exercising was forbidden except for walking). Over indulgence negated away from the art of Vipassana. 

As day 10 dawned, I could see the relief in everyone's eyes. The day noble silence was lifted. It wasn’t the lack of phone or being unable to exercise I found most difficult, but grappling with the silence.

Being able to converse with people and share our experience made us feel less alone. One of the ladies approached me and said during the course she saw me smiling to myself (I have this habit of making myself laugh at the most inappropriate times). She said it reminded her that there was humanity in this solitary experience; we weren’t robots even though we had to behave like them. While this was a personal journey, I was able to reconnect with Shamni, it seems we have many coffee catch ups ahead of us.

Image: Supplied.

I can’t say that after completing the retreat I have become some guru as I struggle with the aftercare of meditating two hours per day and making it a consistent practice. I can say it's been the most challenging and rewarding thing I have ever done and I have updated the software on how I navigate life. I’m leaning in more and running less. This year I am taking risks I couldn’t have previously imagined, as I am taking steps to move abroad. Would I do this again? One day. To sit with yourself in silence for 10 days is the most vulnerable thing you can do and I urge everyone to try it once in their life. 

Featured Image: Supplied/Mamamia.