What a 7-day silent meditation retreat is really like
And why I've done them twice a year for 8 years – a guest column
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What a 7-day silent meditation retreat is really like
And why I've done them twice a year for 8 years
by Tuğba Avci
Would you spend your precious vacation waking up at 5am to meditate for 10 hours a day, with no talking and no reading?
Let me guess: it’s a hard no.
This has been my life for the past eight years. At least twice a year, I use my annual holiday to go on a silent meditation retreat, which some may know as Vipassana1.
My friends have called me crazy. Horrified, they have questioned my sanity: “Are you really using your paid annual holiday to be in prison?”
Let me explain.
My first retreat and how I ended up there
I had just cut ties with my life in London after having lived in the UK for 12 years. Brexit had been announced and I felt pretty emotional during this uncertain time. I embarked on my first backpacking trip around Asia with a friend.
At that point, I had tried using the Headspace app but I couldn’t quite grasp if I was doing this meditation thing correctly. But everyone was talking about the benefits of meditation, so I really wanted to learn it.
Research suggests that we can have up more than 6,000 thoughts each day.2
Yet, many of these thoughts lean towards the negative3, driven by our instinct to focus on threats and challenges.
This negativity bias shapes our perception of reality, highlighting the powerful role our thoughts play in how we see the world.
Midway through our backpacking trip, we met an Australian couple who told me about a temple in Chiang Mai in Thailand, where you could learn how to meditate.
A couple of weeks later while we were in Bangkok, I contacted the temple. I'll never forget the day I arrived in Chiang Mai; it felt like I was being sentenced to prison.
I handed my phone in to be locked up and was escorted to my windowless room with a rickety old bed, concrete walls and a lively community of bugs. Little did I know, the bugs were off limits — it's against The Five Precepts of Buddhism to kill them.
Disclaimer: I have broken the no killing of insects rule at every retreat. I have a bug allergy and I don’t think the Buddha knew just how itchy these things can be.
My first-ever retreat was interesting
The food was terrible and there was an ant invasion around my bed every day, with mice walking past me in the meditation room.
However, I enjoyed being without my phone, not feeling pressured to talk to people and watching the stunning sunset from the top of the hill every night.
Despite this, I decided to leave a day early. I didn’t think I would ever do it again.
One year later, after moving to Berlin, I went on my first solo trip to Sri Lanka. Guess what? I ended up signing up for another retreat in Kandy over Christmas and New Year's.
Don’t ask me why!
But it turned out to be life-changing.
On the third day, I had an epiphany
Even though my external circumstances hadn't changed and my problems still existed, I felt a deep sense of peace. I understood how much of a role I had in making my thoughts worsen my situation.
It wasn't just an intellectual understanding; I felt it in every fibre of my being. For the first time, I was able to observe my thoughts and emotions from an outsider's perspective. I often think back to the words of the centre’s head teacher:
"Be an outsider if you want to change the inside. You need to become an observer, not a controller, not a producer, not a director, but a spectator."
— Upul Gamage
I came away from the retreat with a whole new perspective on life. It was eye-opening to realize how much I had been letting my thoughts and emotions control me, creating unnecessary drama.
“When a person has an emotion to something in the environment, there’s a 90-second chemical process that happens in the body; after that, any remaining emotional response is just the person choosing to stay in that emotional loop.”
— Dr Jill Bolte Taylor
I'm not advocating avoidance.
Instead, mindfulness helps manage difficult emotions by promoting awareness and acceptance of those emotions without judgment, allowing us to observe our feelings as temporary experiences rather than overwhelming states, which can reduce reactivity and foster healthier responses.
So, what happens during these retreats?
Every tradition, centre and teacher is different, so it depends. But there are some general rules.
For instance, silence, no phones, a set schedule and a combination of seated and walking meditation. However, some teachings, such as Vipassana with Goenka, only involves seated meditation.
The centre I currently attend in Germany also incorporates mindful working, where for one hour each day we help with tasks such as cooking, cleaning, or gardening in silence. Goodbye, multi-tasking and hello single-tasking!
At the retreat, breaks are also part of the learning experience. You see people very zen in the meditation room but as soon as they step out, they are all over the place.
Imagine a rowdy ocean gradually transforming into the stillest water, until it resembles a mirror. In that tranquil reflection you see yourself more clearly, yet also more exposed and vulnerable.
During these retreats, my anxiety vanishes into thin air
There are no racing thoughts or urgent places to be and I feel deeply connected to my inner self. Everything around me becomes intensely vivid; even the gentle dance of leaves on the trees feels like the most captivating movie.
A profound sense of gratitude washes over me.
These moments also tend to flood my mind with creative ideas. For any writer or artist, these retreats are a precious gift for reigniting creativity — creating this open space by refraining from consuming and allowing the vast expanse of inspiration to unfold its magic.
You may be thinking this all sounds amazing. So why aren't we all doing it?
As amazing as it sounds, it is also one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Being fully exposed to your own thoughts and emotions without a way to distract yourself is incredibly difficult. People often think that not talking is hard, but listening to the voice in your head all day is even harder.
When you have the same obsessive thought for the 100th time for seven days straight, it's impossible not to judge yourself.
“All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”
— Blaise Pascal
Dealing with the hustle and bustle of many people all in one space can be quite challenging. Living and working together, navigating through a symphony of coughing, sneezing and heavy breathing, not to mention the cars outside, can really put your learnings to the test.
However, I find that the rewards gained from retreats far surpass the challenges, so I make it a point to attend two retreats each year of three to seven days.
Next year, I've eagerly signed up for a 14-day retreat. That said, the duration doesn't always dictate the impact. In fact in just three days, you can feel a remarkable sense of ease.
Things to Remember
Each journey is unique
Progress takes time. Meditation is a skill
Prepare for a range of feelings: discomfort, restlessness, joy…
Your mind wandering is normal
Expect a structured routine; it's designed to enhance your practice
Post-retreat, allow time to adjust and integrate your experiences
Remember to research different teachers and traditions before choosing where to go. Most teachers have videos of their talks on YouTube. The centre I go to is rooted in the Theravada tradition. You can find a list of recommended centres here and here.
I would love to hear if you or someone you know has ever attended a retreat or even why this is not for you. I’m happy to answer any further questions you have in the comments.
is a Turkish-Greek artist living in Berlin. She completed a two-year Mindfulness Teacher Training course with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach at UC Berkeley. Her newsletter as slow as possible explores the often overlooked, in between spaces of our lives.
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