I get a lot of questions about my recent 1-week silent meditation retreat. The questions are usually about what I give up rather than what I gain from silent retreats.
Q: Do you talk at all?
A: Nope. There is no talking, except for one hour in a small group with an instructor.
Q: Can you check your email or read while you’re in retreat?
A: Nope. Participants renounce technology upon arrival, storing all devices in the office safe.
I experienced this retreat as a journey that grew progressively more magical and giving as the days passed by. Here are 7 things I learned in 7 days of silence:
1. You can overcome your “nomophobia.”
Nomophobia is the fear of being without your mobile device. If you’ve ever panicked after realizing you’ve left your phone at home or in the car, you know exactly what I’m talking about. After I parted with my phone on the first day, I had some time to kill before the program began. My fingers itched for my device. What was I supposed to do with myself without my constant companion?! See #2 for helpful strategy.
2. Walk more slowly.
When my body finally understood that there was no one to talk to and nowhere to go, my pace naturally slowed. On day one, I paused to examine a spider web on a lamp post, marveling at its artistry. On day two, I bent down to study a blade of grass for some time, awed by its dew drops resembling miniscule pave diamonds. By day five, butterflies and hummingbirds “suddenly” appeared, whirring around a tree I had passed and overlooked repeatedly. By day seven, my bowl of breakfast oatmeal (usually a 5-minute gobble) became a 30-minute tear-inducing, sensory experience. I discovered that the holy grail of mindfulness – awareness in the present moment – is more accessible when my life slows down.
3. Be “no one” (for at least a day or two).
Not having to generate small talk (…Where do you come from?…Where do you live?…What do you do?…Is this your first retreat?) felt incredibly liberating. Along with “nowhere to go” and “nothing to get,” the fact that there was “no one I had to be” felt like a delicious treat. I didn’t even put on a stitch of makeup the whole week. (I am still wrestling with the existential question of who mascara is actually for – my own eyes or my audience’s eyes?) When we let go of the pressure to be someone for other people, we can discover who we really are.
4. Do less to process more.
My mind typically generates thoughts without a moment of pause, much like the pervasive noisy traffic in NYC. Over the course of hours sitting meditatively with focus on my breath, bundles of thoughts became wrapped in moments of stillness. The pauses allowed me to examine them. I noticed patterns – many of them quite annoying! But the focus on them also let in clarity. For example, I found I was able to effortlessly generate bulleted lists of factors that influenced certain of my principles and decisions. I was then able to examine them more analytically. In other words, by doing what some might consider nothing for a week, I became more “knowing” or self-aware.
5. It’s body over mind (not the other way around).
Newbie meditators (like me) talk a lot about the ceaseless activity of the mind and what to do about it. In this retreat, I learned more about the role of my body in enhancing self-awareness. Amanda Blake’s book title instantly elucidates this notion… Your Body Is Your Brain. When I moaned to my Buddhist meditation teacher, Leslie Booker, about my repetitive, highly annoying thought patterns, she counseled me to shift my attention to the sensations in my body. In quiet, I began to listen to messages from my body that were surprisingly astute! According to Booker: “Everything to be known can be witnessed in the felt sense of the body and in the quality of the breath.”
6. You were born to communicate.
In addition to mandating “noble silence,” the retreat guidelines discourage non-verbal communication: “Practitioners do not speak, leave notes, touch, or make eye contact with each other.” I noticed that we humans don’t disconnect easily, even with such direct instruction. In fact, we are inherently creatures of communication. Smiles, nods, and the common gesture of gratitude 🙏 became increasingly evident as the retreat progressed, seeping into still-quiet interactions. And when silence was officially over at the retreat’s close, a cacophonous din of human chatter immediately permeated the air. Silence is definitely not the most natural human state, but when cultivated intentionally, it can lead to heightened awareness and learning.
7. Don’t forget about integration.
Upon return from retreat, I landed at JFK at 2:00 AM, delayed by ferocious storms in the northeast. My cab hurtled along the highway at high speed, sending sprays of water skyward. My body informed me of a potential imminent heart attack. A scant 3 hours in bed bled immediately into a busy workweek. My zen had been instantaneously obliterated. The learning here is that every journey – of any sort – demands intentional integration into daily life. Still, even if my slow, mindful vibe has sadly dissipated, the learning from this 7-day silent journey sticks on.