Four Years Later: 10 Days of Silent Meditation

He was right. Day 2 and day 6 were two of the hardest days. Two days when you’d want to flee, to leave the world you committed to. These days were hard, it’s true, but there were others. Day three, day five. Those days were particularly hard too. Living in noble silence for ten long days brought on hardship unlikely any other I have yet to experience. 

Yet, it was not the silence that proved the greatest challenge for me. Being an introvert living in an extroverted world, I welcomed the silence wholeheartedly. The silence proved a fascination point over the next ten days. The physical and emotional aspects were considerably more challenging. I expected the latter, to a degree, but not the former. I found solace in the few moments of clarity and the many moments of intrigue. 

Menomonie is a small midwestern town about one hour east of Minneapolis. Located in Wisconsin, it’s home to Stout University, over 13,000 college students, a former rice farming community, and a meditation retreat space. There’s likely much more in this quaint little town, but in my mind I think this place is still what it appears to be-small, river-centered, probably pretty in the spring/summer. This is where I would learn to find Buddha and all of his liberation ideals.

How I Got Here

Four years ago, in a small village in central Colombia, I happened upon a man who had recently experienced transformation. I was volunteering on a farm in a remote village, spending my days cleaning, planting, learning and crafting. One day a long blonde haired man of about 30 made his way to the farm. He quickly began sharing stories of the silent meditation retreat he recently attended. I was intrigued, not because I knew much about meditation, but because of how he spoke of his mental and emotional transformation. I have always appreciated the spiritual connection and the calmness that meditation seems to offer.  Up until this point I had no strong pull towards the practice and wasn’t particularly inclined to learn. 

The memory of his stories, of his connection with peace and tranquility stayed with me and influenced my own path towards enlightenment. He was making his own journey through South America, as I was also planning, when he happened upon a ten day adventure into his psyche. He told me the name of this special practice, this special place that brought him deeper into himself, this unique opportunity that gave him voice after living in a world of silence. I unconsciously tethered myself to a meditation practice of which I had never heard. I saturated myself in his stories, embedding myself in a connection that proved everlasting. 

Vipassana Applications 

The meditation practice behind this particular ten-day course is Vipassana. This particular course comes from an organization of meditation led by Goenka S.N. Beginning in Burma and India before traversing the globe, this Vipassana course has taught thousands of people the technique of meditation that brings mental clarity, purification and peace to the mind. 

In order to take part in one such course, a person need only apply. There is a simple online application that asks questions to understand your prior meditative practices (none required, many are welcome) and your draw to this technique. Courses are open year-round across the globe. Finding an open course is generally quite easy, although some travel may be required. Once you submit your application, you are sent an acceptance letter and further details about your upcoming meditation retreat. 

The application process is one I know well, having applied to five different courses over the span of four years. Every excuse, ones I am certain the organization has received countless times, came up and in the way of me taking part in each of these five courses before I finally stepped onto the path of my own meditative journey. I cannot be clear why this practice, this ten day journey stayed with me for such a long period of time. I knew almost nothing about the practice, about meditation, about the teachings or learnings of those who practiced this meditation technique. I could have researched a great deal of information over the years. But I did not. I learned nothing new. I researched no information. I simply stayed drawn to the idea of something that intrigued me deeply. 

In December I decided to leave my job, quickly turning myself into a full-time writer with a lot of time to create my days out of. This seemed prime to finally pursue this meditation learning course And yet… I applied. I rescinded yet another application. I gave reason for trying again in another month, once I got my writing routine figured out, once my income was a little more stable, once I knew it was really the right time. I planned a vacation with my partner. I took intensive Spanish courses. I wrote, a lot. I considered making a trip to Mexico, Colombia, Spain, Guatemala. I looked for jobs that I didn’t want, got a few of them that I promptly turned down. I sought for a future I couldn’t quite conceive of. I placed reason and excuse next to, in front of, on top of and all around finalizing a trip for a mediation course I felt so compelled to take, yet somehow seemed averse to. 

Menomonie, Wisconsin

Then something clicked. March 2018 rolled around and I finally did it. I applied for a course near Minneapolis. I booked a flight from Denver. I decided to pair my meditation retreat with a family vacation and made it all official. 

There was much to anticipate, especially given that I had no idea what I was truly getting myself into. A ten day silent meditation retreat in small town Menomonie, Wisconsin. I packed a small backpack with the bare essentials and made my way to an uncertain destiny. One that had consumed my desire and left me with questions and an ever-expanding open mind. I was ready. 

I flew into Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport on Tuesday night. I curled up in a somewhat quiet area of the airport, wrapped myself in a few sweatshirts and dozed in and out of sleep for the next six hours. It certainly was not a restful sleep, but a necessary one. This restless night in the airport was also an interestingly connecting entry point to my upcoming nights in Menomonie. 

Once I awoke, I made my way to a downtown diner to spend a few hours writing and taking in a final meal. After eating and writing, I walked to a favorite space of books and light. At the library I took twenty thousand deep breaths, cried, said goodbye for the fifteenth time to my partner and endlessly pondered my future. 

Dhamma Visuddhi

Riding to the retreat location offered more perspective on what my desire had attached to these past four years. Vince, a second-time meditation retreat goer, drove me and another first timer over the Wisconsin border. We talked about life and its hardships, considered the complexities of work and happiness, questioned each other about our drives and understandings of meditation practices. These conversations would come back to me many times throughout my retreat, most notably the complexity of work and happiness. I would soon have an entirely new perspective on this topic. One that would change what I understood of my experiences of the past year. 

Upon arriving on site at Dhamma Visuddhi, we were sent to check-in, fill out paperwork and turn in our technology. Naturally, I tip toed off to an alternate space to make one final phone call, followed by one more text or two. I smiled, cried more tears and walked slowly back towards this chosen destiny. 

After turning in all of my valuables and learning about the evening schedule, I made my way to my room to unpack and meet my roommate. We are afforded about an hour of talking time for introductions, pleasantries and practical planning for sharing a space with someone you will not be able to speak to (or even look at) for the next ten days.

Noble Silence. 

No communication by voice, gesture, or writing. You may communicate with the manager or the teacher when absolutely necessary for your understanding or your livelihood. 

Beginning with an hour meditation sitting and instructions, we step into silence and with it our independent journeys. Every day thereafter, we go through a rigorous schedule of mediation and instruction. Eleven hours a day we meditate. Eleven. We sleep for a maximum of six hours. The other seven hours in the day are left for eating, drinking tea, walking around campus and resting. 

And so the days tick by as mediation knowledge is absorbed through every inch of my body. Sleep is taken over by fear-filled dreams that keep me restless, breathing hard and practicing my newly learned techniques under the darkest night skies. With only two meals a day, I lean into a new routine of total body and mind. By sitting for over ten hours a day, I learn the ins and outs of Vipassana meditation and how it rests in my bones. Paired with lectures by our leading teacher, I receive mental, emotional and physical lessons on the power of the enlightenment path.

What I Know

A unique phenomenon has taken over since leaving the retreat. I know I went through each day; I feel the effects of each day; I am aware of the passage of time. But I cannot fully recall the days. Some moments blend together, like what I thought about during which meditation sitting. Like when I physically struggled on which days to sit up straight for more than twenty or thirty minutes. Like what I did during breaks to stay awake, attempting to fully be present in each moment of the day. Something happened that shifted my memory beyond remembering or not remembering to experiencing or not experiencing. 

I experienced change on a physical level that transformed to a mental and emotional level. The whole of my experience starts and ends with a physical connection and a physical growth. 

I have yet to find adequate words to describe my meditation retreat experience. I have yet to qualify this event even for myself. 

What I know:

I know that I sat one day in meditation for more hours than I ever have in my entire life.

I know that I battled, breathed and worked through incredibly hard days and moments.

I know that I had four nightmares, in one night, that knocked me from deep sleep.

I know what it is to experience a daymare, while eating breakfast and walking outside and brushing my teeth.

I know that I can easily subsist on two meals a day.

I know what silence sounds like. 

I know how to meditate. 

I know how to check in with my breathing and the sensations of my body.

I know that learning through experience brings with it lifelong change.

I know what I know and it feels right.