What I learned after ten days in silence

India

I first heard the term silent retreat in 2014 when I spent four days with some friends at an ashram in Rishikesh, India. We didn’t participate in the retreat, but we did local activities: yoga classes, meditation, and singing on the banks of the Ganges River at 5:30 in the afternoon. I returned to Brazil and started researching more about meditation. I never imagined that, ten years later, this practice would become a habit in my life.

United States

2017

I was about to finish my master’s degree in computer science when several problems started to appear: my diploma would not be issued because there was an installment to pay at the university, and my scholarship would not cover it, the beginning of my work at Dell would start in a few months, and I didn’t have a work authorization (the authorization was linked to the issuance of the diploma), I had no income and was afraid of staying in the country illegally.

I sought, again, for yoga and meditation. Perhaps November and December 2017 were the most difficult months of my journey living outside Brazil. I had just made a career transition and was watching my dream go down the drain with all the uncertainty around me. Today, I look back and understand that I lived everything I lived because that was how it had to be. My experiences make me more of who I am. Seven years later, I thank Mariana from the past for never giving up.

2022

A few months before receiving my U.S. permanent resident card (green card), other concerns began to arise: “Am I happy in this job? What career opportunities can a green card give me? Am I positively impacting the people around me? Is it enough? What is important to me that I should continue doing? What is important to me that I am failing to do? What are my priorities? Where should I focus my energy?”.

My head is a little machine, and I needed to hit the pause button.

Again, researching meditation, I discovered a 5-day silent retreat program in North Carolina. There, things started to shift inside of me. I learned: that almost everything we say is fundamentally unnecessary (and that listening is much better); that silence goes beyond speech: it is about stopping judging, stopping stimulating the mind incessantly, accepting and letting go; that our life is a long second between the first inhalation upon leaving the womb and the last exhalation before death. I learned that meditating is difficult, but not meditating is even worse. Since then, I started meditating 30 minutes a day, sometimes silently, sometimes guided.

Our life is a long second between the first inhalation upon leaving the womb and the last exhalation before death.

2023

As I continued my practice and read more about other healing and meditation techniques, I came across Vipassana, a technique practised for over 2,500 years, taught by Buddha, and disseminated in the western hemisphere by S. N. Goenka since the 60s. S. N. Goenka was born in Burma (Myanmar), learned Vipassana and brought it to India. As he was a businessman and traveled to various countries, other people became interested in his teachings, leading him to open meditation centers on different continents. These meditation centers are called Dhamma centers (see the full list at this link ).

The Vipassana technique is taught in a 10-day silent retreat. No cell phone, no communication with the outside world, no reading, no writing, no physical activity, no looking others in the eye. Completely silent. Just you and your thoughts. That was exactly what I was looking for.

It took me 11 months to complete the course. Registration opens four months in advance and usually closes in less than two hours. It’s very competitive. The course is based on donations; that is, the accommodation, food, and infrastructure are financed by the students who came before you, and when the course ends, you can donate as much as you want and subsidize the costs of the next students.

Below, I talk about my days at the retreat and the lessons I learned. They certainly transformed and are transforming my life.

What’s the Vipassana technique?

Vipassana is a form of meditation that has its roots in Buddhism but is practiced secularly around the world. The word “Vipassana” is of Pali origin, an ancient Indian language, and means “seeing things as they really are”, not as you would like them to be. The practice aims to develop keen awareness and a deep understanding of the nature of the mind and body. It aims to purify the mind (getting rid of attachments and aversions), leading to a state of equanimity and inner peace.

Day 0 — Day 3

On day 0, we received instructions about the retreat, meditation times, breaks, time for walks, and a theoretical session at the end of the day. I put my cell phone, wallet, book, pens, paper and diary in a cloth bag and hand it over to the retreat administration.

Writing, reading, and using cell phones are prohibited. At the end of day 0, I start counting sheep to get to day 10. The hours are loooooong. Time does not pass. “Meditation is observing time in its natural habitat”, I reflect. The coolest part of the day is drinking coffee and doing my morning meditation (my head is still fresh). Afternoon and evening meditations are always the most difficult — there is so much stimulation during the day that the mind becomes overloaded with subconscious stories, desires, and fears.

The day passes, thoughts come, mental turbulence begins, and my mind wanders to places few explored. I remember my childhood, situations, people, and places that seemed forgotten in my mind. It’s a very intense experience. Every now and then, I cry. I don’t know how to contain my emotions.

Meditation is observing time in its natural habitat.

Day 4 — Day 8

If the first four days are intense and arouse a mixture of curiosity and boredom, the following are torturing. My body hurts (doing yoga and stretching is also not recommended). I start to doubt myself and the practice. “Am I doing it right? What’s right? What’s wrong?”, “Why does everyone seem cold, and I’m sweating?” A thousand worries that are of no use. “Just like everything in life”, I reflect once again.

During meditations, we practice mindfulness and equanimity — observing situations as they are rather than as we would like them to be. We observe the sensations and pains in our body without reacting. Every hour, we meditate without moving. “The pain will also pass”, I think and bear it.

On day 5, I don’t react. I understand equanimity (non-reaction to situations) better. I think I love reacting, and I love expressing myself. “Maybe I didn’t really understand this concept of equanimity,” I get frustrated.

On the 6th, I schedule an interview with the assistant professor. I tell her that I have a very expansive, emotional, extroverted personality. I share with her that I don’t want to be “non-reactive” to life situations. I want to show and express all the happiness when something good happens; I want to be able to feel the sadness when it arrives. She says: “You will feel all of this, your personality will not change. But the way you look at each of them will. You will be emotionally balanced inside.” I share with her my fear of what others will think. “We become more of ourselves for ourselves and not for others. Whoever loves you and knows you knows who you are inside. You don’t need to explain yourself”, he adds.

On the 7th day, I sit in front of a window that overlooks a beautiful view of the pagoda. I close my eyes and start to meditate. Twenty minutes pass. I open my eyes. I see the snow falling. “Snow says yes to all your questions, Mariana.” “Living is a gift,” I think.

On day 8, I observe my body and breathing more calmly. I feel and make myself more present. Waking up at 4 am has its gifts. The sunrise is beautiful and vivid despite the cold. My sleep is already in perfect rhythm. My body feels clean — no meat, fried foods, just vegetables, grains, salad, coffee, water and tea. I feel clean inside — physiologically and mentally speaking.

Living is a gift.

Day 9

I hear a bark from afar near the hill. I immediately think of Bono. “I miss him so much!” I recognize my attachment to him. I remember that everything transforms, I remember that I’m not with him at the moment, but I will be in less than 24 hours. I understand that not having him with me in the present proves the Law of Impermanence. I understand that one day, I won’t have him with me forever. And this feeling no longer gives me fear or sadness but a sense of peace and acceptance of who I am. The Law of Nature.

Day 10

The silence is broken right after the morning meditation. I spend the next two hours talking to three other students in front of our rooms. It’s a beautiful moment of exchange and knowing the reasons that led them to be there. One struggled with depression, the other had just lost a family member, and the third was about to get pregnant. My reason is not linked to any illness or major event. Still, it is connected to everything I have experienced so far: having left my home country, having left my work status in a large company, having had my heart broken several times, and, mainly, having seen all the benefits that the experience of meditation brought me and still brings me. I wanted more, and I wanted it to be more challenging. And it was much more than I imagined.

Day 11

We woke up early for another group meditation, a speech by S.N. Goenka, organized the meditation hall, and had coffee. I prepare to leave. I finish cleaning the room, spread the Indian blanket on the bed, and cry. I think about the next student in that room in a few days and how those days will forever transform her life. I cry with happiness and joy. It was a beautiful moment to wrap up the retreat.

I catch a ride with one of the students. We leave for Boston. I enter the Alewife station, and I notice how much my body and my heart give signals after all the stimuli I receive visually: the smell of the subway, the man sleeping on the sidewalk, and the noise of the tracks. Everything stimulates my mind and gets in touch with my (not so) subconscious.

I’m returning to everyday life, already realizing that the “every day” will never be the same.

Lessons

I returned home on November 19th, and I’m still reflecting on the moments at the retreat and how the experience changed me. Some reflections sound simple and cliché, but internalizing each is fundamental to learning.

• The here and now is all there is: I patiently pay attention to how my body touches time. How the present brings a feeling of calm that only now matters and only now exists. There is no presence in the past. The past is just a memory.
• Everything is constantly changing: The Law of Impermanence is present in all situations and moments, even in the pain that passes through my body.
• The concept of Vipassana: Accepting things as they are, not as I would like them to be.
• My mind is my reality.
• If everything changes all the time, if everything I sow, I reap, and if nothing is in my control: why try to control everything and everyone around me? Things will happen as they are supposed to happen, and the only thing that is in my control is how I react to them. It takes a lot of pressure off trying to be perfect.
• The constructions of society are artificial.
• We spend our lives asking ourselves: “What is the meaning of life? What is my purpose?”, when, in fact, every day, it is life that asks us: “What meaning are you going to give me? What do you want it to be? your purpose?”.

There is no presence in the past. The past is just a memory.

I spent 30 years absorbing, consuming, watching, and following society’s instructions (buy! consume! follow standards! speak what others want to hear! play the status game! acquire goods! work while others sleep!).

My next 30 will be about deconstructing and unlearning everything I was taught and learning to tame my mind. Because my mind creates my reality.

I’m starting to crawl.

See you soon!

Mariana

This story was originally published, in English, at this link .