Why I did a 10 day silent meditation (“vipassana”)

16 min readJan 6, 2020

Today I emerged from a 10 day vipassana course – 10 days of silent meditation. What is vipassana? Vipassana means “insight”, or “clear seeing.” It’s all about seeing things as they really are without judgement, argument, or interpretation. And, logistically:

10 days of silence (no talking or even eye contact or gestures with your fellow meditators) 🤐👀🙈
10 days of giving up many liberties (all books and entertainment, writing instruments – and, yes, your mobile phone!) 📵
And on each day, 10 hours of meditation using vipassana techniques. It was challenging to say the least! Why did I do this? 🧘‍♂️

For context, I hadn’t meditated very much before this. Just a few hours experimenting here and there, guided by the Calm app for iPhone. The other closest experience I’d had was experimenting with sensory deprivation float tanks – I’ve found them very powerful to clear my mind ahead of making decisions (not to make the decision in the tank itself, but to emerge in a state of clarity.)

And so, being someone who has a tendency to do things at extremes, I thought maybe an intensified version of this, a 10 day silent stint, would open my horizons. I also think the pure challenge itself of the 10 day vipassana silent meditation was another factor that appealed to me. Having recently left the company I founded, I was craving a challenge. I was also inspired by a friend of mine, a tech entrepreneur who had also sold his business, who did a ten day silent meditation in Thailand a few years ago.

A number of prominent leaders have also sung their praises of the benefits of meditation: Ray Dalio, Steve Jobs, Tim Ferriss, Jerry Seinfeld, Yuval Noah Harari – even Oprah. It may be worth noting that these people don’t necessarily practice vipassana, there are many forms of meditation out there.

I thought I’d give 10 days of silence a shot.

When I started telling friends that I was about to embark on this vipassana experience, I discovered that more people than I realized had done a vipassana course. I told one such friend I wanted a “reset.” She said, “maybe it’s more of a matter of marinating in who one already is.”

I didn’t go into the vipassana with any expectations and with very limited research. Virtually all of the following came as a surprise to me, and I loved the surprise and unknown. So, spoiler alert! If you want that same no-spoiler experience, just stop reading here (seriously) and head to your nearest vipassana centre. Otherwise, read on!

Everyone’s experience is different and personal, and so this article is my own take on vipassana. Words don’t do this experience full justice and you won’t gain the benefits by simply reading this, but perhaps this will inspire you or add a level of familiarity and comfort that will guide you to try it yourself. But I’ll try my best to share the benefits, my thoughts on the science behind the technique, some fun and random observations and memories, and some conclusions.

Benefits I’m already seeing

As I write and edit this article in the weeks after the vipassana course, I’m already seeing the following benefits:

Increased clarity of my mind – heightened productivity and ability to focus
Balance or “equanimity” – less reactivity to negative things (in neuroscience terms, a shrunken amygdala), not a mellowness (I am more aware and alert than ever) but more of a flow of acceptance and wide eyed open-mindedness
Forgiveness, and a letting-go of things I had been holding onto
Increased level of happiness – the byproduct of the above, a greater awareness of experiencing life around me (a great way to kick off my trip afterwards to Bali!), and a re-optimized outlook on and appreciation for anything life may throw my way
A feeling of empowerment – ready to take on the world with vigour, “the whole world is waiting for me” was a thought that percolated during the 10 day period

The science behind the vipassana technique we were taught

Ancient Greek Philosophy, Internal Family Systems, organized religions, family values, workplace/corporate values… the list goes on. There are many frameworks out there that intellectualize and prescribe their ways of thinking and try to tell us how to act and interact. Perhaps one can use these frameworks when one has a moment to step back and reflect, but it can be hard to apply them in the day-to-day heat of the moment.

Taking a more applied approach, the meditation technique we learned is intended to train the mind to strengthen focus, awareness and resiliency, which results in improvements in each day’s productivity, enjoyment of good things and ability to tackle challenges.

It’s like going to the gym for your mind.

As a basis for explaining this “gym routine”, let’s start with an example of a cycle that might happen to someone in a life experience before they’ve practiced vipassana:

You encounter an input in life – words, thoughts or actions directed towards you 💭
Your subconscious is the first to receive this input – based on past experiences, trauma or baggage (#5), it may interpret the input in a negative way 🧠
Biochemistry kicks in. Your heart rate or blood pressure may change, breathing may change, and sensations may appear on or in your body 🧪
This can create a feedback loop where your mind reacts according to the sensations, with conscious negativity (either projected outwardly to others, or bottled up) ♻️
Your mind then records this reaction in its archive, creating a negative memory for you to dwell on or recall in the future 💾

To improve “the art of living,” apply the vipassana technique preemptively, in a preventative manner. I will not fully explain the techniques themselves (it is impossible to do so and requires practice – you should go to a course for that!) but will summarize generally and explain the techniques’ impacts:

a) During vipassana meditation, you develop an ability to train your mind to focus on “subtle sensations”, increasing your overall awareness

b) During meditation, you use “gross sensations” encountered during a mediation (for example pain, or a strong itch) as a tool to remind yourself that these feelings are impermanent, and as a metaphor that everything is impermanent – while still being aware, not suppressing them but simply observing them and their eventual disappearance you develop acceptance, equanimity and balance towards them

c) Also during meditation, meanwhile, your mind is whirring away, chattering with thoughts – it is bringing up old memories and processing them. If you meditate on them with equanimity and put them back in your mental archive, they will now be more tranquil than before (affecting your archive mentioned in #5 above)

The awareness of subtle sensations (a) trains your conscious mind to be more aware of future physiological signs (when biochemistry kicks in changing breathing, heart rate, and “gut” sensations, as mentioned in #3 above), that your subconscious is active (triggered by past experiences, as mentioned in #2 above) in response to an input (words, thoughts or actions, as mentioned in #1 above) thus helping intercept and the subsequent cycle – you are now aware of your true state.

This balanced mind also helps you shorten the cycle that you are now aware of – because you know that what you are encountering will be impermanent, that all things will pass (your response and reaction e.g. projecting onto others, or bottling something up, as mentioned in in #4 above becomes more balanced and less reactionary).

The balanced mind now therefore does not create a new archive containing animosity (storing the experience in the mind as a burdensome memory for future recall, as mentioned in #5 above), creating less to dwell upon in the future, and less burden to distract productivity and happiness.

Some thoughts I have on the above:

In (a), a.k.a. focusing upon subtle sensations that you are normally not in tune with, this reminds me of a concept in Ancient Greek stoicism: to be more present
In (b), a.k.a. acknowledging gross sensations such as physical pain and that they too will pass, this also reminds me of a concept in Ancient Greek stoicism: impermanence, and negative visualization. “The Stoics fell somewhere between the Cyrenaics and the Cynics: They thought people should enjoy the good things life has to offer, including friendship and wealth, but only if they did not cling to these good things.” (A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy by William B. Irvine). The difference between vipassana and stoicism is you are training your mind to be more aware of impermanence (vipassana), rather than just intellectualizing it (Stoicism).
In (c), a.k.a. the chattering mind that is recalling, processing and re-archiving past experiences, I am reminded of the dynamic where eyewitnesses should not be relied upon so much in a court of law, because “our memories are also incredibly fragile – not only can they change over time, but the very act of recalling a memory can alter it.” When you put a memory back after recalling it, it can change in the archive of your mind. Use this mental plasticity to your advantage to process past experiences, quieting that sexy librarian mind of yours.
Also in this memory recall and re-archive dynamic of (c), it makes me think of an analogy of “defragmenting your mind” – it is like you are defragmenting your computer’s hard drive, and also upgrading the file format of old files to one more compatible and easier to process. This relieves your mind of the task/burden of doing so in your day-to-day, making you more productive, creative and better at problem solving when in the moment.
The act of surrendering liberties such as your mobile phone, books and writing instruments, and ability to speak is a form of forced “negative visualization” (an Ancient Greek Stoicism concept) or perhaps a temporary existence as a follower of Ancient Greek Cynicism. It is no surprise therefore that, on Day 10 of vipassana when you can now speak to your fellow meditators, you and your new friends are filled with joy – the vibe of the group is so different on Day 10 (liberated) compared to Day 0 (somber and morose). Learning from the former Roman Emperor’s thinking, “we should contemplate the loss of our possessions. Most of us spend our idle moments thinking about the things we want but don’t have. We would be much better off, Marcus [Aurelius] says, to spend this time thinking of all the things we have and reflecting on how much we would miss them if they were not ours.” (A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy by William B. Irvine). As a practical example, we should imagine “that we have lost the things we value – that our wife has left us, our car was stolen, or we lost our job. Doing this, the Stoics thought, will make us value our wife, our car, and our job more than we otherwise would.” (A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy by William B. Irvine)
On Day 9, something meaningful happened: there were two people in my life, romantically and business-wise, who were a big part of my journey. For years I had held onto and dealt with residual feelings towards them. This was balanced with lots of good memories, but I had been harbouring unsettled thoughts for years. On Day 9 of the vipassana, in my mind, I forgave them, forgave myself for my part in interactions with them, and let go, freeing myself from burdens and moving on.

Now: reading this article is not enough alone to effect the benefits described above. And you would probably have personalized and different benefits. You would need to practice the methodology yourself (and on a continual basis) to gain (and maintain) the benefits.

And the benefits are so worth it.

What to expect, practically speaking

I’ve had a number of people ask me what the experience looks like logistically, and practically. What do you eat? How do you sit? etc. Here are some answers to these questions – if you have other questions that are unanswered, let me know and I’ll add to this list:

“What was the diet through the days?” You eat vegetarian food. The cuisine depends on the centre’s location – I was in Thailand so it was all Thai food (yum!) Everything was quite healthy. You are served breakfast and lunch. There is no dinner (though it’s available to those who need it for medical reasons). There is an evening “tea” where first-time students are allowed fruit; the experienced students are allowed only lemon water or tea without milk. Interestingly, I found myself thinking “I don’t even need dinner – why do we always eat dinner in the real world?!” (answer: probably because you’re not sitting for 10 hours per day! 😂) The nutritional part of the experience was very healthy for the body!
“How do you sit?” You meditate sitting down. Eyes closed. You can choose your own posture – crosslegged, lotus, kneeling, etc. I brought a kneeling stool that I found on Etsy, but found that the crosslegged technique ended up being better on my knees. If you have a medical issue you can request a full-on chair. The centre I was at had various pillows and everyone iterated on how many they used, where they placed them, etc. By the end of it it was so interesting to observe everyone’s unique “pillow fort” that they had built! 🏰
“I’ve heard it can be physically and mentally guessing. How did your body react to the shock of 10 hour per day meditation?” In the first few days when trying to find what posture works, it was definitely painful – I don’t have any knee problems but I felt some pain there, likewise no back problems but I eventually had a sharp knot in my mid back and was definitely craving a massage. Things were tough for the first three days, after which it got a lot easier – this timeframe seemed to be similar for most students that I debriefed with afterwards.
“How did you sleep?” We slept on very minimalistic beds – the ‘mattress’ (if it can be called that) was about two inches thin, and almost hard as a rock. Side sleepers be warned! Debriefing with students, some people didn’t sleep at all some nights (but were not tired, as they had a different type of rest from all the meditation, including laying there at night), others slept fairly soundly. Curiously, in particular the not sleeping at all effect seemed to be more of a thing for students who had been more than one time. I didn’t run into any first time students who experienced no sleep. 😴
“Where do you meditate?” Most of the meditation happens in a group in a main meditation hall. There were about 100 people in our hall. For certain slots in the schedule you can opt to meditate in your own room if you prefer – the teacher tells you when this is an option, and sometimes it’s only for those whose first course it is, other times it’s only for those who’s already completed a course. You are instructed to meditate only indoors, as even a breeze outside would distract you. 🌬
“What does it cost?” It is by donation only. You are given the option to donate at the end of the course, and it is truly optional. It was explained that the reason for this is that for the duration of the course you are living off of the generosity of others who came before you, and that this makes the experience more like that of a monk, who would live via of the goodwill of others. You can also donate your time by helping serve at future courses.
“Where can I do one of these?” The vipassana I did was “in the tradition of Goenka” – I haven’t been to other forms of silent meditation retreats so I have nothing to compare to, but I would definitely recommend Goenka’s methodology. There are vipassana centres all over the world, and you can book online. For my friends in Toronto, there’s even a centre in Barrie – however, I personally would not do such a course there in the winter, as it was nice to walk around outside and I’d imagine that a lack of sunlight would be taxing. It’s probably beautiful in Spring, Summer and Autumn though.

Again if you are considering doing a vipassana course and have other questions, just let me know!

Some fun and random memories

The location of the vipassana course I attended was Dhamma Kañcana in Khao Laem National Park in northwestern Thailand, near the border of Myanmar.

I’ll end this post with some fun observations:

Asking myself in the agony of meditative monotony on Day Two, “who’s idea was this…?” – in response, I saw an illustration of a portrait of a face, which was a younger version of myself 🤯
Preparing my strip of Malarone pills as a countdown timer, a-la-Shawshank Redemption, with the torturous feeling of imprisonment 💊
Visualizing surreal landscapes that I’ve never scene before, just a manifestation of my creativity unlocking 🖌
Debriefing with a fellow meditator afterwards (a nuclear physicist who does engineering for the CERN reactor in Switzerland), and learning he experienced composing music in his mind he’d never heard before 🎼
Visualizing a dragon made of brown paper fly towards me 📦
Observing the ornamental propeller spinning faucet caps made of plastic while washing dishes 🚰
Encountering my whole body amazingly vibrating and strongly pulsating during a meditation on Day 5 – then excitedly telling the teacher on Day 6 and being reminded that I need to be equanimous to states like this, that they too are impermanent (not just the bad stuff)

Noticing with heightened awareness the bark on that one tree that was vividly blue, yellow and brown 🎨
Watching the Dhamma Server affix and water a plant he was grafting onto a tree, then noticing the other trees which had successful grafts 🌱
Remembering a favourite childhood movie of mine, Fern Gully, when looking down into the valley from the bridge 🌿
Finally noticing the plant with dangling clusters of red flowers resembling Christmas ornaments 🎄
Watching a fellow meditator smile at the clusters of flowers one day, as though it was his first time seeing them too 😌
Saving snails migrating across the steps from being stepped on 🐌
Doing hundreds of push ups, sit ups and lunges each day to maintain my mental sanity (and to remain limber for the surprisingly physically challenging 10 hours daily of sitting still) 🤸
Noticing the five legged spider (impermanence is real)

(Note: went back to take photos after Day 10!)

What it’s like when I meditate now

Admittedly, I didn’t meditate at all for my subsequent month of travelling after the vipassana (aside from doing meditative things like surfing, scuba and yoga). For when you go back into the real world, the vipassana course recommends 1 hour of meditation in the morning, and another 1 hour at night.

Upon returning from my travels, for the past couple days I’ve been experimenting with 10 minutes at bedtime, and either 10 minutes (or 1 hour if I can muster it) when I wake up.

Now, when I meditate, I’m noticing that…

Even 10 minutes of meditation now feels like an eternity! This was surprising to me having done 10 hours a day × 10 days = 100 hours.
I find my mind chattering, even upon just having woken up. Then, if I try to practice some of the techniques I learned, it feels like “defibrillation” — the chattering is interrupted by this moment of meditation, and then my mind enters a more productive rhythm. The following is a diagram for signals measured in a heart that is defibrillated during cardiac arrest, but it feels like an analogy for this effect of meditation.

I also find that I feel like a “wind up car”. Even 10 minutes now feels like an eternity to me. It’s like I’m winding up my wheels, making me feel very ready to go. I’m not planning a to-do list for my day in this moment, it’s just the act of exercising the lack of motion makes me really want to get into motion.

My takeaways

Vipassana is an amazing tool to optimize your mind, and live a better life.
It is free of dogma, surprisingly minimalistic and simple in its techniques, and therefore accessible and inclusive: it could be combined with Atheism, or any organized religion or spirituality.
I found its concepts such as “Impermanence” surprisingly interlinked with Ancient Greek Stoicism – when you boil these and other frameworks down to their pure elements, they share common wisdom.
Meditation can be used as an “applied method” to put philosophy into action.
Has enough research been done on the neuroscience behind meditation? I know some has been done thus far (the brains of monks show higher levels of gamma waves), but I hypothesize there is incredible depth and new findings and potential that can be unlocked here. And I encourage the neuroscientists of the world to consider this as an area of research and commend those who are already exploring this as their frontier. 🙏
If you’re not a neuroscientist, how can you incorporate meditation into your profession? At my last startup, a subgroup of employees would take a meeting room and meditate – admittedly, I never did partake, but I’m glad that I was supportive of them doing this and applaud them for leading the charge. If you’re a teacher, consider working it into your classroom. What profession are you in and how could this be incorporated into what you do?
Keep it simple, don’t take my word for it, and derive your own experience – book your own vipassana. 🙃

I’d love to hear from you – would you do a vipassana? Have you done one before? What are your reflections on your experience?

Questions, thoughts, ideas? You can find me online:

Instagram: instagram.com/craigfollett
Twitter: twitter.com/craigfollett

The difference between vipassana and stoicism is you are training your mind to be more aware of impermanence (vipassana), rather than just intellectualizing it (stoicism).