The Sound of Silence - A Winter Retreat.

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” was my 89-year-old Mum’s response to my telling her I was going to be incommunicado for 4 days as I embarked on a solo silent retreat. “Well, what’s the point?” was her next question, and I realised I didn’t quite know how to answer.

Why was I doing this? I mean, really why? OK, yes, there’s all the things to be potentially gained from an intensive immersive meditation experience like this…cultivating the qualities of acceptance, patience, trust, non-attachment – all great things which serve us very well in life… yet, on the other hand, I was noticing that I didn’t really know why I was doing it, just that it seemed like a good idea. It’s been a while since I’ve done a long silent retreat somewhere, I am staying in the perfect venue and location that definitely has a retreat vibe about it, and somewhere in there is a remembering that when we sit in meditation we don’t just do it to benefit ourselves and those close to us, we do it for the greater good, for the collective. Every time someone sits in meditation, the world heals a little more. So, by me spending 4 days in silent meditation practice, I feel like I’m doing my bit. I’m doing something rather than doing nothing. Although I can see how (to the untrained 89-year-old eye) sitting on a cushion with your eyes closed for an hour at a time, might well look like doing nothing!

And as I was sharing my intentions with a friend, she told me that she always spends the few days in between Christmas and New Year with her phone switched off. She shuts out the world and curls up on the sofa with a pile of books and just reads. That suddenly sounds like absolute bliss! Why aren’t I doing that?? Why am I choosing instead to spend 10 hours a day in meditation, alternating between sitting and walking, with no reading, no writing, no music – basically no engaging with anything external – with only basic meals thrown in to boot! Why??!

Well, I’m just doing it, and maybe I’ll get my why afterwards.

So, the scene is set; I am staying in a converted barn on a 20-acre property in the midst of the New Forest, I have everything I need, I have written out my schedule (having long since learnt the benefits from ‘surrendering to the schedule’ rather than being in a perpetual state of indecision over the next 4 days of whether to sit then walk, or walk then sit!) There’s no-one else around, I’m extremely unlikely to cross paths with anyone or anything except the deer that frequent the woods that lead from the back lawn, and I have inducted the 2 cat’s I’m looking after on the virtues of noble silence!

As 6pm on the solstice approaches, I turn off my phone, I light a candle and take my seat. I also pull an oracle card, to set the tone and for some guidance for the coming days – something that I can keep coming back to, something that it might be helpful for me to remember. The card is ‘Soft’ from the Journey of Love deck. “Don’t imagine you must always be the fighter…this is your time to be soft…to surrender…” Hmmm...

The first evening goes well (ha! first rule of meditation – don’t judge your performance!) As well as the sitting and walking meditations (contrary to typical Goenka style Vipassana) I have ‘allowed’ myself an ashtanga yoga session in the mornings and a yin yoga session in the evenings before ending the day with a traditional Meta (loving kindness) practice.

In mindfulness meditation, there is a lot of emphasis on ‘just noticing our experience’, not to change anything, not to judge anything, not to engage with anything, not to push anything away – just to notice, and as the next few days unfolded, here is just some of that noticing…

I noticed the constant whirring – and occasional screeching – of the underfloor heating system on the other side of the kitchen wall! My god. 4 days of this might just drive me insane!

I noticed the constant whirring (and occasional screeching) of thoughts in my head! Mostly negative, naturally.

I noticed – well, it was impossible not to notice – the decapitated rabbit that one of the cats (Bagpuss by day, serial killer by night) had left me on the front doorstep. There’s nothing like a headless rabbit to break your silence!

I noticed (more than usual) my hot flushes, not so much induced by menopause as the over-enthusiastic underfloor heating.

I noticed on the second afternoon as I glanced at the desk that the light on my laptop wasn’t on despite it being plugged in. This caused such a sudden rise in panic and desperate thoughts of solution, that I almost abandoned the whole idea of my silent retreat. Let’s call the whole thing off – my laptop is broken and needs fixing NOW!!! So interesting the complete number my mind did on me in the face of the ‘crisis’. Fortunately, I was able to…just notice.

I noticed on the second day too that I was starting to feel sneezy…and a bit achy…and generally like I was ‘going down with something’…. oh dear. By the end of that day it had completely hit me and it was as much as I could do but to lay down on my mat endeavouring a body scan practice, sitting cross legged on a cushion for an hour at a time while you are literally sneezing your head off and feeling an elephant has taken up residence on your chest, well…it just wasn’t happening.

By the third day I had ‘relaxed’ my schedule – a lot! There are times to sit straight backed on a cushion in meditation and there are times to go for a gentle walk with a large handkerchief into the forest and notice the beauty of the wild geese flying in a heart formation right in front of me. I noticed that.

And then, the irony of it all. Such was the level of sneezing and aching, that the last day of my retreat was indeed spent curled up on the sofa under a blanket with the world shut out and a good book. And I trusted that that was exactly what I needed from the experience. The card I had pulled said it all; soft… this is your time to be soft…to surrender… So, I didn’t resist it, and I didn’t feel bad - like I’d cheated or missed out. I knew it was all as it was meant to be.

And then I got my why. During my silence, the words of one of my favourite poems had kept coming to me (along with random songs from the 90’s, memories of long-forgotten boyfriends, and a hankering for a crisp sandwich). The last line of The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer reads: “I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.”

And I came to realise…that! That is why I wanted to do this. Why I needed to do this. To see if I can truly be alone with myself and like the company I keep in the empty (silent) moments. It’s important you see, unless we can spend time with ourselves, proper time, then how can we really know ourselves and let alone then how can we know how to be with others.

The Tibetan Buddhist master Trungpa said that “meditation is the continuous act of making friends with ourselves.”  And the 17th century philosopher Pascal said, “all of man’s problems stem from his inability to be alone in a room by himself.” (and I assume hers) You see, we’ve known this stuff for a long time, but how often do we really do anything about it? How often do we really make friends with ourselves and sit alone in a room by ourselves - without our phones or anything for distraction?

So, the question is this; do I? Do I truly like the company I keep in the empty moments? Well, honestly? After the last 4 days of my solo silent winter retreat…I can think of worse people to hang out with.