I started meditating around two years ago, after experiencing a close personal loss. But of all of the mindfulness experiences I have attempted, going on silent retreat felt a little nerve wracking.

By Nick Hammond

Where it started

My introduction came through using a mindfulness app, which was followed by more extended periods of meditation in tandem with ‘everyday mindfulness’ practices. It was only when I started studying with The Mindfulness Network that I stumbled upon the idea of retreats. These interested me because I realised deep down I was yearning for a more extended mindful experience than was possible in everyday moments. I’ve now gone on three retreats, some including lengthy periods of total silence. I have to say that, of all of the mindfulness experiences I have attempted, going on retreat felt a little nerve wracking. 

My concerns fell into two areas - People and Content : ‘who I would meet’ and ‘what I would do.’ I had great unease about spending an extended period of time with a group of people I’d not met before and felt this was likely to be accentuated by the awkwardness of silence. There was also the concern that it may turn out to be a bit too ‘left-field’. Would there be things I would be expected to do that may make me feel uncomfortable? If there was such a thing, would I turn out to be the kind of person ‘who doesn’t go on retreat?’

“Time was another factor. Did I feel that, in my very busy life, I had a weekend to spare to seemingly not do anything? ”

Time was another factor. Did I feel that, in my very busy life, I had a weekend to spare to seemingly not do anything? I have committed weekends to myself in the past, but these always involved doing something practical that, in a superficial sense, ‘achieved something’. By comparison to a frantic city break, here I was looking to spend a long-time doing very little. This seemed somewhat indulgent. And then the issue of silence. There were two aspects surrounding this: would it be awkward and might I possibly feel bored.

The silent Just Breathe weekend was my longest retreat so far, involving two nights and three days in the Norfolk countryside. I asked myself, how can one possibly keep occupied and engaged when you’re not allowed to talk? Working in the world of marketing for the last 30 years, I am used to a pretty constant level of engagement — emails, conference calls, meetings and the like. In the end all my concerns and negativity came to naught. I left all three retreat experiences, accompanied by a significant sense of contented calm and increased mindfulness. So why was this?

Overcoming the fear

With regards to my fear of feeling uncomfortable, perhaps the hardest part was meeting a whole bunch of new people and sleeping in a room with strangers. A bit odd to begin with, it didn’t take much time to relax and enjoy the company of like-minded individuals. And although it was new and initially strange, I even ended up enjoying the rhythm and warmth of the chanting in the temple, on the Buddhist retreat.

My worries about time dragging also proved unfounded. To be honest, time just flew by. The delicious irony was that, once I’d stopped thinking about what distraction would be coming up next and when - I just settled into the present moment. With nothing particular to plan ahead for, combined with little awareness of the time of day, I ended up with no sense of what I could be missing. 

So, what about the silence? To be sure, it felt unusual to start with and a little uncomfortable. Without something to say I found myself avoiding eye contact, at least initially.

But with time, you get comfortable with it. You can just be.

“The need to think about what to say, when to say it and to whom is no longer there.”

The pleasant surprise 

The most surprising and delightful discovery was the power of ‘companionable silence.’ I’m sure you have all experienced this at some time, sitting quietly with someone you know well and appreciating the peaceful pleasure that this provides. A silent retreat is like this but with the sense of pleasure and peace, amplified over an extended period.

The silence leads to a significant reduction in stress. The need to think about what to say, when to say it and to whom is no longer there. Alongside a natural evolving feeling of connection and community, it also generates a sense of equality. This is because it is not possible as it is in other social situations, to create a sense of hierarchy in a group — which can often be generated by who is speaking loudest and most often.

When the silence was finally broken at the end of the retreat, talking felt slightly unnecessary. Of course, it was nice to find out more about the people that I had been spending time with; but the lasting effect of non-verbal communication meant I had a good sense of who they were already.

Finally, my concern about having little to do proved unfounded. On the Just Breathe retreat I experienced a lovely long mindful walk, an introduction to Yin Yoga, a soothing sound bath (courtesy of Lisa Pauley) wonderful food, and plenty of time for rest and recuperation

So, should you go on a retreat?  

My immediate answer is yes! When conditions allow of course, if you are interested in the area of mindfulness, and have meditated to some degree, I would heartily recommend going on a retreat. Experiencing a period of concentrated calm does wonders for stress levels, but it also engages and energises the mind, helping you to move in a more mindful direction.

The pleasurable intensity of a retreat feels like the process of regular daily meditation, but elevated. For me, the experience softened my brain, allowing me to deal more efficiently and enjoyably with the strictures of everyday existence once I returned to the ‘real’ world.

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