by Melissa Coton
A Beautiful Reflection from a Participant in Our 2024 49-Day Pratyabhijna Retreat:
Two and a half months ago, I came out of my longest silent retreat. I’m not sure where to start or what to say…how can I possibly convey the depth of my experience in words? And yet…I will try. Let’s start at the beginning.
The Days Before the Retreat
Since I live in neighboring Guatemala, I decided to travel to Mazunte by land. My boyfriend came with me to Panajachel, the town across from Lake Atitlán, where I live, from which a shuttle leaves once a week to San Cristóbal, Mexico. We stayed in an Airbnb and woke up at four in the morning to wait for the shuttle that arrived at five on the dot. I was surprised to find myself sobbing when we had to say goodbye. I had decided to do this, and I knew it meant saying goodbye, at least for a while, but the intensity of the sadness from leaving him was overwhelming.
After two nights in San Cristóbal, I took an overnight bus and arrived in Mazunte a few days before the retreat started. A couple of days before the retreat began, we were invited to attend a meeting to connect with our fellow retreat participants and receive additional information about the retreat. I was excited to meet the others and wondered who they would be.
I arrived early for the meeting and enjoyed seeing the others arrive. I felt intrigued and wanted to have long conversations with each of them. I wanted to ask them what inspired them to sign up and many other things, but I didn’t. When the door opened, we all found our places quietly in the room. We introduced ourselves briefly and shared our intention with the group. We then each pulled a piece of paper from a bowl designating the name of the room we would stay in for the thirty-nine days of solitude. I prayed for simplicity and was so grateful to discover that my room lacked electricity and had a dry toilet and a wood-heated shower. This was also when we were informed that we’d have the option to sit an additional ten days back in Mazunte when we came out of solitude, should we want to. I was sure that after forty-nine days, I would have had enough silence. I called my parents and boyfriend the day before the retreat to say my goodbyes.
And so the silence began.
The Beginning
The retreat started with the standard 10-Day Hridaya Silent Meditation Retreat guided by our beloved teacher, Sahajananda, at the Hridaya Center in Mazunte, Mexico. This part of the retreat was blissful. On the tenth day, we (myself and the other thirteen participants of the 49-Day Retreat) were asked to pack our things and leave right after lunch. I was excited and ready for the next part of the journey–I had been dreaming about this for months.
We got in a van that drove us four hours on probably one of the windiest rides of my life. Following the retreat guidelines, we avoided eye contact, but I could perceive smiles that matched my own on the lips of my fellow participants. The excitement was palpable as we set off for the mountains of San José del Pacífico, to the retreat center where we’d spend the second part of the retreat.
All we knew about our accommodation was the name and the details, but I felt I would love my space despite being informed that I had the smallest. And indeed, I loved my tiny home the moment I saw it, even more so when I went inside.
Solitude Begins
Since there were no more satsangs or “spiritual lectures” during this part of the retreat, we were encouraged to adapt our schedule. We could do what we wanted as no one would check on us.
The advised schedule, which I followed closely, was:
7:00-9:00 am Meditation
9:00-11:00 am Hatha Yoga
11:00 am Lunch
12:00-3:00 pm Rest
3:00-6:00 pm Meditation
6:00 pm Dinner
7:30-9:30 pm Meditation
Challenges
I’m starting with the challenges, not because the gifts and insights didn’t outweigh the trials but because it was surprisingly more challenging than anticipated.
Writing this now makes me smile as I realize how naive and perhaps overly optimistic I was before the retreat, primarily since we had been provided with a collection of mystics’ writings about solitude, including passages about how challenging it could be.
I can now say that solitude is an entirely different experience from a guided silent retreat. It was like going from wearing floaties in a pool where your feet touch the bottom to being dropped in the middle of the ocean, discovering you no longer have floaties and there is no one in sight.
The first three days of solitude were beautiful. Sahajananda told us to ease into the new schedule, so I didn’t stick to the eight hours of recommended daily meditation. I went for walks in the forest and kept myself busy unpacking, making my altar, moving things around to make myself at home, and writing in my journal a lot.
The first evening, I burst out laughing when I sat for dinner and thought, “I can’t believe this is a thing! You can go away and dedicate every day to sadhana, or ‘spiritual practice.’ It’s a dream, and I get to be part of it!” At that moment, I felt happy, lucky, and grateful.
On the third day of solitude and the thirteenth day of silence, when I had run out of things to busy myself with in the long afternoon break, I had the unexpected visit of dread. I was surprised by this because I had been looking forward to this for months, and there I was, in this little wooden cabin in the mountains of Mexico, with all day to meditate, rest, be, and yet…
The realization that I had thirty-seven days left to complete the 49-Day Retreat weighed on me. Having nothing to distract myself from, the discomfort of my mood was amplified, and I walked as far as I could into the forest. By the evening, I felt calm and grateful again, and as I sat in front of the fire, I laughed at myself for wanting to experience solitude so much and yet not wanting to experience what arose once in it.
That feeling of dread visited every so often. Sometimes, I worried about something happening to my parents or brother. Other times, I worried that my boyfriend might be in a motorbike accident and I would never see him again or that he’d fall out of love with me. Sometimes, a memory seemed to come out of nowhere, and I could see how I had behaved in ways I wasn’t proud of. These old memories brought a sense of guilt and remorse that I wished I could push away. Those were the primary sources of suffering, and when they came, they sometimes awoke an ache in my stomach that I tried to release by reminding myself that they were only thoughts with no real substance. “Just a mental formation,” I would say to myself.
However, as per my teacher’s guidance, you can’t think thoughts away. I am grateful for these thinking holes as the distress they caused led me to cultivate no mind, a state of being I had only had short glimpses of during my past silent retreat experiences.
Gifts and Insights
As I reflect on my time in solitude, especially when reading my journal, it is evident that despite some moments of struggle, I felt joy most of the time.
I didn’t want to use an alarm so I would be awakened by the first rays of the sun and the celebratory chirping of the many different species of birds. I would often smile when I woke up and silently say hello to the colony of mice that seemed to live at night, running around the roof of my tiny home. Before getting up, I would mentally give thanks for my health, family, love, and all the Karma Yogis volunteering at Hridaya. I gave thanks to all the teachers I’ve ever had who helped me discover and deepen my connection to the ineffable, to all the workers at Refugio who chopped wood, cooked, and took care of all our needs, to the founder of Refugio, to the fellow participants, to Rachael (my sister and founder of our yoga school, Breath Body Earth), to all the people who supported me in the weeks and months ahead of the retreat with words of encouragement, to the Earth, the trees, the birds and the list goes on.
The morning meditation was generally easeful. During the first few days of solitude, I found the two hours a little long, but as the days went on, I found more comfort in my body and more peace in my mind. The two hours of Hatha Yoga were consistently blissful. Breakfast time was party time daily. I laughed regularly at the taste of pineapple and appreciated the simple taste of each vegetable in the soups.
When I wasn’t taken by a worry or memory, as mentioned above, I found a lot of joy in being, and I would often sit smiling at the sky. I discovered that I found it most straightforward to cultivate pure awareness when looking at the sky, so I did a lot of sky gazing, especially after breakfast. Eventually, I would get up to sweep my tiny room and load the shower heater with wood to warm the water for my shower. Shower time was also a joyful moment, and I discovered a newfound appreciation for hot water as I tried to use as little wood as possible, but most showers were warm. I would heat some water to make tea with the hot coals left from the shower, and I enjoyed sipping my tea before taking a nap, journaling, or contemplating the mountains.
The three-hour afternoon practice was generally the least easeful part of the day. Still, I observed that no matter how distracted my mind was at the beginning, it would eventually get tired and calm down by the time dinner arrived, for which I was always so grateful.
I loved dinner time, as it came around sunset and often included two equally simple and delicious hot soups. I would gaze at the sun setting over the mountains and give thanks for another day.
I also enjoyed making the fire in the tiny fireplace, and I would lie down and look at the flames before preparing for the last meditation of the day. This two-hour meditation was generally more challenging than the morning one, especially as I had to pause often to add wood. Once I could let go of the idea that opening my eyes and adding wood meant a pause in the meditation, I found it more accessible and could complete the two hours more easily.
Spiritual Insights
Suffering is caused by the mind.
I have been reading and learning about this for years, but the teaching didn’t make sense until the retreat. I realized I was happy if the mind didn’t generate thoughts or if I could genuinely let them pass without rejecting or hanging onto them. Not happiness based on things or circumstances, as I didn’t have many things I used to think brought me joy. There was a deep sense of contentment and peace that nothing could add to or take away.
Sat-Chit-Ananda–“Pure Existence-Pure Awareness-Pure Bliss” is our True Nature.
For a few years, I have also learned about this definition of God, the all-pervading essence of life in all things. I had experienced this during Bufo and Ayahuasca ceremonies. However, this bliss still seemed like something that wasn’t always available. During the retreat, I found this truth to be revealed regularly: when I looked at the eagles flying above my head, heard the sound of the wind in the pine trees, and felt the warmth of the soil under the soles of my feet. I knew all these things were not the cause of the bliss but simple reminders that bliss is our essence.
The Universe is always listening.
At the beginning of my solitude, I wrote a letter to my boyfriend telling him that I could hear the owls at night and hoped to find a feather. I soon found myself looking for an owl feather whenever I walked in the woods and had to talk myself out of it.
On the last day, I walked to see the ancient tree Luna and said my goodbyes. Sitting on a little tree trunk, I saw a beautiful white feather, as if it had been placed there for me to find. I don’t know whether it is an owl feather, but when I saw it, I held it and sobbed and laughed, as it felt like a gift from God, saying, “Ask with your heart, and you shall receive.”
There were so many magical moments, including regular visits from hummingbirds, shooting stars, and much more, but I will end my narration here.
Return to Mazunte
When we returned to Mazunte on day fifty, I was surprised to raise my hand when the coordinators asked who would join us for ten additional days. To my amazement, there was nothing I wanted to do more than meditate. I had to speak to get to my Airbnb, but I had already broken mauna, or “noble silence,” to share with the group when we were allowed to share when we arrived back from the mountains. Hearing everyone’s shares and realizing others had also experienced difficult moments was reassuring. When I got to my new temporary home, I called my boyfriend and sobbed when I saw his face. I’m not sure I made much sense, but he got the point; I had thought of him a lot. I almost laughed when he said he wasn’t expecting my call as he couldn’t remember what day I said I would come out of silence. After sharing a little about our experiences being away from each other, I told him I was doing the extra ten days, and he didn’t seem surprised. We said goodbye once more, but ten days felt like a walk in the park this time.
I left my parents and Rachael voice messages to tell them I would sit the extra ten days and set my phone on airplane mode.
The last ten days back at Hridaya with Sahaja and some of the participants of the 49-Day Retreat and the participants of the 17-Day Retreat whose retreat we were joining were profound. After thirty-nine days of silence and solitude, listening to Sahajananda was precious. I drank his words and stayed longer in almost all meditations. Sitting with others felt so special, too. I cried tears of joy looking at the sea and in meditation multiple times.
Coming Out of Silence
Having already sat in silence multiple times, I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t particularly feel like talking when we officially broke mauna with a beautiful Om. However, after listening to a few participants’ heartwarming shares I decided to share a little about my journey. The difference between my share on the fiftieth day with our closer group and the one on the fifty-ninth day was clear; in the latter, I had already had time to integrate some of the lessons from solitude. Many in my group spoke of purification, and indeed, though there were difficult moments up in the mountains, I came back so much lighter, present, and highly aware of God in everyone and everything.
When I got home, I called my boyfriend, and we spoke briefly. I went to sleep feeling so much love and gratitude and was excited to call my parents and best friend the following day.
My first call was to my parents and my brother, and it was heartbreaking. I was surprised to see my parents looking sad, so I asked what was going on, and my dad told me that my dear aunt, my mother’s younger sister, had taken her own life while I was in silence. I sobbed, and we sat in silence for a little while. One of my deepest fears was that someone I loved might die while I was away. I knew that I couldn’t have done anything and that she had been suffering for decades, and I found myself comforting my mom. I felt like my time in silence gave me newfound strength and compassion, which I had gone in to cultivate. After a while, I shared my journey, all the joy and blessings, and some of the challenging moments. We spoke for two hours, and I followed it with another long call to my best friend and then to my boyfriend. So, I spoke for most of the day, and it felt nice.
Echoes
To keep this section brief, I’ll simply say that this journey changed something in me; better said, it brought light to my limited self and revealed the True Self. Still now, two and a half months after the retreat, I feel present and, therefore, joyful and grateful more than ever before.
So, all in all, it was a beautiful and humbling experience that revealed to me the inherent joy that lies within us all and how my mind can cause suffering to myself and others.
Since the retreat, I have continued to practice one hour of meditation daily, and I am already planning a long silent retreat next year. Clearly, this path is supportive and will help me cultivate a love for all of creation. That is my deepest longing: to bring only light and love to those around me so they can bring love and light to those around them, and so on, making the world a place where there is more love and compassion.
Finally, I am grateful to God, the essence of existence, for the experience of human life and everything it entails; thank you.
If you want to participate in a silent retreat, I can’t recommend Hridaya enough.
If you’re inspired to surrender to silence for an extended period, find out more about the 49-Day Pratyabhijna Retreat.
