I recently completed a 10-day silent meditation course — What I learnt and Why I hope to do it again
A couple of months ago, I experienced what some might describe as a ‘life event’. I spent eleven nights at a silent meditation center outside Mumbai learning the ancient technique of Vipassana meditation. A lot of people that I’ve talked to have been understandably curious about it — some wondering why I did it, others asking what I took away from my time there. So I decided to share my experience in the most millennial way possible — by writing a Medium post about it. I hope this will pique your curiosity and possibly even encourage you to try it for yourself someday.
Why I chose to do it.
I’ve known about Vipassana meditation for several years now, and always thought I’d like to experience it at some point in the future. Everything about it intrigued me, but I was never actively looking to sign up for a course. All that changed after I read two books titled Sapiens and Homo Deus by Israeli historian and anthropologist, Yuval Noah Harari. Just to be clear, neither of these books have anything to do with Vipassana meditation or spiritually at large — they’re anthropology books about the past, present and future of humankind, as seen through the lens of the collective human consciousness. After reading the books, I was amazed by the author’s clarity of thought and his ability to distill complex issues to their essence. I started consuming any and all Harari content I could get my hands on, which led me to his recent appearance on Ezra Klein’s podcast. In the podcast, Harari directly credits Vipassana meditation for his ability to think and see things in the ways that he does. He goes on to share that he participates in a 60-day Vipassana course every year! I was blown away by this revelation. I spent the next couple of hours reading up about Vipassana. And everything I came across only echoed Harari’s views. Something had suddenly clicked in my head — this Vipassana thing sounded like the real deal. I was ready to try it for myself.
A little bit of context.
The word Vipassana is a Sanskrit (and Pali) word which means to see things as they really are. The technique of Vipassana meditation has existed for thousands of years now. Following a long period of irrelevance, it was rediscovered by Gautama Buddha approximately twenty-five centuries ago. You probably read the name ‘Buddha’ and concluded that Vipassana is a Buddhist technique. While that is generally true, it is important to note here that the course makes no direct references to Buddhism (or any other organized religion for that matter). Without trying to undermine or condemn any religion, the teachings of the course are unequivocally universal and non-sectarian. Courses are conducted all through the year in more than 300 locations across the world, in multiple languages — including English. But here’s the crazy part: all courses are offered completely free of charge! You don’t have to pay a penny — donations from students are encouraged, but by no means required.
House Rules.
All first-time students are required to participate in the full-length 10-day course. The technique of Vipassana mandates that the course be conducted in an environment that makes students feel like they are working in complete isolation, away from all distractions. This means no phones, no internet — basically no comms with the outside world. As soon as you check-in, the first thing you are asked to do is hand in your phones along with any other electronic devices, books, writing materials, musical instruments etc. For the entire duration of the 10-day course, students are required to maintain Noble Silence. According to the website:
Noble Silence means silence of body, speech, and mind. Any form of communication with a fellow student, whether by gestures, sign language, written notes, etc., is prohibited.
So even though there were almost a hundred students enrolled in the course with me, for all intents and purposes I was completely alone. (During the early days of the course I struggled to cope with the silence and seclusion. In the absence of my phone and with no one to talk to, I’d unwittingly spend a lot of time talking to myself — turns out I’m not a lot of fun to hang out with. There was a little garden in the compound which served as our only real source of “entertainment”. After meals I would go on long walks around this garden and engage in pointless conversations with myself about the most ludicrous things. Some days I wondered if I was losing my sanity). Students are also barred from partaking in any physical exercise during the course, so you’ll need to put that fancy new fitness routine on pause. The accommodation is far from luxurious— each student is assigned a private room that comes with a twin bed and an attached bathroom. This so-called “bed” is really just a long stone platform with a thin mattress that feels like you’re sleeping on Domino’s pizza crust. Dhamma Pattana, the center where I chose to sign up is relatively new and even has air-conditioners in the rooms — the Ritz-Carlton of Vipassana centers, if you will. Students are given two (and a half) meals a day — breakfast at 6:30am, lunch at 11:00am and a snack/tea at 5:00pm. The meals generally consist of light, non-spicy, vegetarian soul food and tend to be fairly repetitive. But what the food lacks in variety, it partially makes up for in flavor. To be fair, when you’re averaging upwards of ten hours of meditation in a day, even the simplest of food can start to feel like a private tasting menu by Massimo Bottura. You can find a full list of rules and other interesting information about the course by scrolling to the bottom of the Code of Discipline section here. Its worth a read!
Vipassana. What is it?
What Buddha discovered all those years ago was that there are two sections to the human mind: the conscious mind — surface level, responsible for routine cognitive functions; and the unconscious mind — deepest level, insulated from our everyday cognizance. Sadly these two sections of the mind are separated by a barrier that prevents them from working together. This barrier keeps us largely oblivious to the existence of the unconscious mind, even though it is the unconscious mind — the deepest level of the mind — that pulls all the strings in the background and determines our every impulse and reaction. Buddha found that every time we encounter an event in our daily lives — favorable, unfavorable or neutral, the unconscious mind generates a biochemical response that manifests itself through pleasant, unpleasant or neutral sensations in the body. With each passing sensation, we develop cravings or aversions towards these sensations at the deepest level of the mind. These feelings of craving or aversion form the building blocks for all the suffering and misery in our lives:
Craving/Aversion → Attachment, Expectations → Suffering
All this while, the conscious mind — the surface level of the mind — is unaware of these developments and continues its everyday cognitive activity. This process keeps repeating itself over and over again eventually forming a dangerous habit pattern of the mind. After years of deep exploration and study, Buddha came upon a technique that could be used to break this habit pattern. He found that by equanimously observing these countless sensations felt in the body, we develop a greater awareness of how our mind and body provoke these feelings of craving and aversion, thereby cutting to the source of our suffering. Furthermore, Buddha discovered that with the repeated observation of these sensations we can start to tear down the rigid barrier between the conscious and unconscious mind. Over time, with diligent practice and perseverance, this technique allows us to:
- understand the impermanent nature of these sensations
- train our minds to stop reacting to these sensations
- gradually eliminate the deep-rooted feelings of craving and aversion
- start living a life filled with happiness, and free of suffering
This meditation technique came to be known as Vipassana — to see things as they really are. Now you may be thinking to yourself that all of this sounds like a bunch of spiritual baloney. Its completely natural to feel this way. As someone that has been scientifically-inclined all their lives, I certainly understand your reservations — I entered the course with a healthy dose of skepticism myself. The truest (and only) way to fully accept something like this is to go beyond merely the intellectual level, and understand it at the experiential level. This is precisely what ten days of intense Vipassana meditation allowed me to do. At the end of the 10-day course, the skeptic had left the building. I was fully bought in.
Days 1–3. Taming The Bull.
The first three days of the course serve as the prerequisite training required to learn the technique of Vipassana. During this time, we were introduced to a very basic form of meditation that required us to merely focus on our natural breath. On the third day, we were instructed to start focussing our entire attention on the upper lip region and observe any sensations we felt in this area. Now that may not seem like much, but consider this for a minute: I was going from meditating for exactly zero hours a day in the outside world, to now all of a sudden doing almost eleven hours of it in a controlled, silent environment. It was a real shock to the system! I found it incredibly hard to hold my attention— my mind would wander off every few minutes, and it would take me a while before I realized that I needed to bring it back. This game kept repeating itself in an infinite loop, and the mind won every single time. It was almost humbling to realize how powerless I was in this pursuit of taming my own mind. Sometimes my mind would get distracted by bizarre, ludicrous thoughts about the world at large; other times it would dig up episodes from my past or imagine fantasies about my future. I struggled to remain in the present. Very often during these early days, I would recall negative experiences from my past—irrelevant and insignificant things from my childhood that seemed to have no bearing on my adult life, and yet I found myself reacting with feelings of anger, frustration and aggression. I’ve never taken a bull-riding lesson, but if I were to pick an analogy I’d say the first three days of the course were probably very similar to the early stages of learning how to ride a bull. I was trying to pacify this raging bull that is the human mind, but I kept getting violently thrown to the dirt every time. With each passing day, however, the bull became a little friendlier, my mind a little quieter, and my concentration spans a little longer. This gave me the encouragement I needed to push on.
Day 4. Ready, Set, Go.
On the fourth day of the course, students are introduced to the technique of Vipassana meditation. The technique essentially involves taking the aforementioned routine of observing sensations in the upper lip region, and extending it to the entire body. This means sweeping through the body — top to bottom, bottom to top — and observing the many sensations felt on the surface of the body. Students are repeatedly instructed to merely observe these sensations and not react to them. If the sensation is pleasant, do not crave it. If the sensation is unpleasant, do not develop aversions towards it. Remain aware, remain equanimous. Observe, observe, observe. This fundamentally simple idea is emphasized and reinforced over and over again. I distinctly remember the meditation session during which we were first introduced to the technique. It was an extended two-hour session, deliberately lengthened because of its significance. After the technique was taught in the first thirty minutes, students were asked to use the remainder of the session to practice it for the first time; this first practice was a real struggle. As the session went on I became more familiar with the technique, but I was far from comfortable. Towards the end of the session, my mind or body didn’t feel markedly different from how they felt at the beginning of the session — or so I thought. As soon I stood up and started walking towards the exit, something totally unexpected happened. I felt a strange rush of energy throughout my body. It was like I had been injected with a gallon of euphoria juice! Everything felt so foreign — I couldn’t quite comprehend what I was experiencing, but it left me in a flood of confused emotions. The magnitude of the moment was not lost on me. I felt energized and overwhelmed. But more than anything else, I felt humbled. I was barely starting to scratch the surface, but in that moment, my decision to enroll in the course had been validated.
Days 5–8. Changes.
Now that we had been introduced to Vipassana, Days 5 through 8 were all about applying the technique: practice, practice and more practice! With each passing meditation session, my mind was becoming more attuned to the sensations in my body. While sweeping through the body I was able to observe these sensations with greater frequency. I was also becoming more mindful of the impermanent nature of these sensations, and learning to remain equanimous towards them. Even though I was still very much a novice in the world of Vipassana, I was starting to get a little more comfortable with the technique. And with that came some interesting developments:
- My mind was beginning to calm down — I was finally becoming friends with the bull. All the negative emotions I felt during the first few days were gradually being replaced with feelings of peace and tranquility — each day better than the last.
- As was the case in the early days of the course, keeping the mind focussed during meditation was still a challenge. My mind would still wander off, but less frequently and for shorter periods. On one particular occasion on Day 7, as I was deep in meditation, my mind wandered off again. But this time it transported to a fantasy world of its own: I had magically transformed into some kind of aquatic animal, floating blissfully in the deep sea. It took me a few seconds before I realized what had happened and snapped back to reality. I’m not sure how to explain what transpired in those few seconds. I tried to dismiss it as an isolated incident, but a similar episode occurred again later that day. Maybe I was hallucinating, or maybe I was just going nuts.
- My sleep patterns also changed drastically: I wasn’t sleeping long hours, but I was getting some really deep sleep! I’d wake up from a quick post-lunch power nap feeling like I had been asleep for several hours. Even during these short naps, I was having the most absurd, intense dreams. We’re all accustomed to having some crazy dreams from time to time, but this was happening to me almost every day — sometimes multiple times a day. Everything I thought I knew about REM cycles was being violated.
It became apparent that something bizarre had started to take place at the deeper levels of my mind, the likes of which I had never experienced before. I couldn’t fully understand why or how any of this was happening. All I knew was that with each passing day, I was going deeper and deeper into my mind. And in doing so, maybe I had begun taking the first steps towards breaking down that stubborn barrier between the conscious and unconscious mind.
Day 9. That Dreaded Feeling.
Day 9 was designed to be no different from the previous four days. We were instructed to continue practicing the technique, but because the course was nearing completion we were advised to work with maximum determination and diligence. I took this advice to heart, and worked tirelessly to make the most of my remaining time there. Going into Day 9, I had seen and experienced enough to recognize the merits of Vipassana meditation — I didn’t need any more convincing. Yet something truly fascinating happened on the evening of the ninth day that further amplified my belief in the technique. But before I get to that, I should give you a little bit of context. As a kid, every now and then I had this recurring nightmare where I’d feel as though my brain had split into two giant monsters, and the two monsters would start fighting each other, creating a whirlwind of chaos and destruction in my mind. I hated that feeling — I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Every time this nightmare reared its ugly head I would wake up in a puddle of sweat, running a high fever. This happened on a handful of occasions when I was a kid, but I hadn’t encountered the nightmare in well over a decade. As far as I was concerned, it was a thing of the past.
Fast-forward to the evening meditation session on Day 9. I was sitting in the meditation hall, working diligently, trying to extract as much value as I could from the remaining few hours of meditation. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I felt my brain splitting into those same two monsters. Right on cue, the fighting and chaos started. At first I couldn’t register what was happening. It had been so long since I’d had the nightmare that I had almost forgotten what it felt like. And then it struck me. Wait a minute, is that really what I think it is? I was in complete shock. Here I was in the middle of this large hall — meditating — fully awake and conscious. And by some inexplicable phenomenon I found myself experiencing that same recurring nightmare from my childhood. How was this even possible? Was this a bug in the system? Was I just imagining all this? Or could it be that I had briefly come in contact with the unconscious mind? I remained trapped in that experience for at least a couple of minutes. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement. I remained confused and agitated for the rest of the session. I walked back to my room at the end of the session, still in shock. Sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands, I tried to wrap my mind around the insanity of what had just happened. But in that moment, I was quickly overcome by a deep sense of gratitude. As I sat there motionless, tears rolling down my cheeks, I thanked the universe for introducing me to this beautiful world of Vipassana.
Day 10. Noble Silence Ends.
The course is designed such that the Noble Silence rule is lifted after the first half of Day 10. Phones are returned and students are allowed to speak to each other, albeit with certain restrictions. These few hours effectively serve as a shock absorber between the silence of the course and the noise of the outside world. Personally, I had mixed emotions about it — I was happy about the course coming to an end, but a part of me missed the silence and everything that came with it. It was also fascinating to interact with some of the other students, and learn how their experiences differed from or resembled my own. We were allowed to leave the premises after an early meditation session the next day. I walked out of the compound the following morning, safe in the knowledge that I had given it my best effort. I was excited to get back to the real world, but I was well aware that these past ten days were only the tip of the iceberg. In order to truly reap the benefits of Vipassana, I needed to practice the technique regularly and apply the learnings to my everyday life. The course was over, but the real challenge had just begun.
Takeaways. 100+ Hours of Meditation Later…
Before I share some of my big takeaways from the course, its important to note that the intent of this post is to share my personal Vipassana experience. I know for certain that everyone’s experience is different. Please do not treat this as gospel. If you do decide to enroll in a course — and I hope you will — I urge you not to go into it with any preconceived notions or unrealistic expectations. Don’t go seeking a particular type of experience, let the experience come to you. Here’s what I took away with me after my experience:
- Impermanence. There was no greater learning for me than understanding the fundamental truth of impermanence. Everything in nature (and everything within us) is constantly changing — nothing is permanent. This is the universal, non-sectarian truth. This is Dhamma, the law of nature. Through its technique of observation, Vipassana serves as the perfect device to understand and live by this basic principle.
- Equanimity. The concept of equanimity is central to the technique of Vipassana. I learnt this first-hand while meditating. Every time I’d start reacting to the sensations I was feeling in my body, I’d find myself losing the balance of my mind. By observing things for what they are, and not reacting to them, we break from the dangerous habit pattern of the mind, thereby riding us of our own ignorance and suffering.
- Experiential Truth > Intellectual Truth. The thing I appreciated most about my first foray into Vipassana was that it allowed me to go beyond the intellectual level, and understand the truth at the experiential level. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. And this pudding was delicious! With each passing day, I was feeling more and more at peace. The negativity from the early days of the course was fading away, and it seemed as though time had come to a screeching halt. I was feeling genuinely peaceful. I’ve lived a pretty peaceful life for the better part of three decades, but there was something different about this brand of peacefulness. It felt very authentic, and less temporal. As the days went by, I was also beginning to feel healthier than I had in a very long time. In addition to shedding almost three kilograms (~6.5 pounds) of weight during the ten days, my body felt nimbler and more energetic. I was reaping the benefits at the experiential level. This made me a believer.
- The Challenge. Don’t be mistaken, Vipassana is hard. But anything worth doing in this world doesn’t come easy. The ten days I spent in the course were some of the most challenging days of my life, but also some of the most rewarding. A lot of people like to think of it as some kind of “life-changing” experience. Personally, I don’t think a 10-day Vipassana course (or a 10-day course of anything) can instantly change your life forever. What it can do, however, is offer a pathway towards changing your life in the long-term through dedicated practice and perseverance.
It doesn’t really matter who you are — or what cards you’ve been dealt — there’s something in Vipassana for everyone. You could be a single mother of three in the slums of Rio struggling to put food on the table, or a Palestinian activist fighting for the right to call Jerusalem his own, or a famous Hollywood celebrity with seemingly all of the world’s adoration, or a British worker who voted ‘leave’ in the hopes of getting her job back, or a billionaire hedge fund manager in search of his next billion, or just a regular guy like me living a regular life. When you strip away the layers and look beyond the surface-level realities, it becomes glaringly obvious that, at our core, we all just want the same things from life: a tranquil existence and a little peace of mind. Vipassana presents a framework to achieve that life.
I encourage you to explore this wonderful world of Vipassana. Thank you for reading.
