Colomn door Bert Cohen
Recently, I took part in a week-long SILENT RETREAT in rural Portugal. And I am still a little speechless from the experience… Even though I quickly returned to the whirlwind of daily life afterwards, I find myself more engaged than ever with some of the retreat’s central themes: awareness and sensitivity, impermanence and letting go. And, I like it.
The retreat
For six full days and nights, I immersed myself in a beautiful environment with no verbal communication, seven hours of meditation a day, more than two hours of quiet movement (yin yoga and mountain hikes), good food, and lovely people around me: two leaders and eleven other participants. I had spoken to many people who had done something similar before, and I was curious to discover what it would do to me.
The silence
I loved the metaphor the retreat started with: we can see ourselves as a glass of muddy water. When life continuously stirs this water, it becomes cloudy and unclear. But when we let the glass rest for a while, the mud slowly sinks and the water clears. By minimizing the constant ‘stirring’ by communication and external input, the mind gets a chance to settle. And that brought me a level of clarity, sensitivity and awareness that I had never experienced before.
The physical discomfort
Another theme that became painfully clear (sometimes even literally) was the power of letting go. My natural instinct is to act, solve or intervene. But in this setting, many active responses simply were not an option. So I had to let things be. And often, once I did, the discomfort diminished or transformed on its own. It reminded me of the impermanence of things – from physical pain to ego – and that letting go is actually a choice available also to me.
And what it brought me since
Practically speaking, I am meditating daily again. Over the years, that habit had slowly deteriorated into something I felt I should do rather than wanted to do. Now I am looking forward to return to it, because it gives me an extra touch of mindfulness that simply feels good. But perhaps more importantly: I still feel more sensitive, both physically and mentally. I see, hear, smell, taste and feel more… and I somehow know what to do. Didn’t we call that ‘intuition’?
