So Sober it’s Psychedelic — My Vipassana Meditation Retreat Experience
I can’t remember the first time I decided I wanted to sit in a room and meditate silently for ten days. I only remember meeting people again and again who I respected and admired who spoke highly of their experiences.
Like any self-development junkie, I was eager to sample all the different strains of self work. Vipassana was attractive to me because (unlike many other fringe philosophies) it offered the purest base level of the human experience.
No mantras, no words, no coaches, no incantations, no self talk or weird breathing — just you and your breath and your body, silent and still for ten days.
My justification boiled down to “I’m gonna be stuck in a room with myself for the rest of my life, so I might as well see what that’s like without anyone else in it.”
The trouble was finding the time — ten days is a long time in the modern world of scant vacation days and cheap international flights. I had signed up twice in years past only to cancel a few weeks later after other plans arose.
This August, I managed to stick to my reservation during a period of unemployment which coincided with the week of Burning Man, when half my social circles were already offline anyways.
I remember reading their packing list and uneasily noticing all the things I normally packed for trips that weren’t coming this time: sunscreen, fun clothing, Kindle, computer, snacks, toys, the list went on.
In this post, I’ll talk about Goenka (the teacher behind the retreat I did) Buddhism and Dhamma, the rules and meditation technique we used, my lived experience, personal changes, and comparable experiences.
Goenka and Dhamma
I showed up to the California Vipassana Center in North Fork knowing very little about the organization behind the retreat, Buddhism, or what to expect.
A cursory Google search beforehand told me that these centers were located worldwide and funded exclusively by optional student donations only after the class. This particular strain of Vipassana was founded by a Burmese-Indian businessman named SN Goenka, who left behind his industrial family business to bring Dhamma(rightness) to the world.
In many other flavors of self development, the founding guru takes center stage and has his name plastered everywhere — but Goenka was barely mentioned in all the materials I found. Instead, it was all about the philosophy and the practice itself, which I liked.
I was also impressed to learn that the entire organization is composed of volunteers donating their time and money out of a sincere desire to share the joys that they’ve found. To some people, that screams cult — but given the pricing structure and the serene detached way my friends had recommended the experience to me, it merely spoke higher of the idea.
Disclaimer: Nothing you read here will do this justice!
Both the Buddha and Goenka stress the importance of direct experience, which is a welcome change from other gurus preaching their truth as the only true way. They explicitly say “Take this and try it on and see if it works for you — but don’t believe it until you’ve lived it yourself.” There are even 3 different types of wisdom in Buddhism to relate to these — known, believed, and lived.
Vipassana and Buddhism are all about living truly present in the moment, without cravings, aversions, ignorance, memories, expectations, or future plans. So remember that everything you read here may make your meditation that much harder in the moment: “Wait, I’m not experiencing what Corey experienced!”.
If you’re anything like me though, you’ll read on anyways, as I did all the blog posts of those who came before me, and I still had a great time. So let’s go!
The Rules
Every day was composed of 11 hours of mediation from 4am to 9pm in 1–2 hour chunks, with breaks in between. Students were expected to adhere to 5 precepts during the course: no killing, no stealing, no harsh words, no sexual activities, and no intoxicants.
Most important (and shocking for outsiders) was Noble Silence — no talking, gesturing, or glancing to anyone else. (Though you can always talk to the management and teachers in whispers about concerns or problems).
The rules sound strict and disciplinarian, but they are actually quite easy within the confines of the course. And there is little policing beyond the ever-present silence — one could break all these rules in the dorms or privately.
I contemplated breaking these many times during the course, but I realized the only person who’d suffer would be myself, and my meditation practice.
I came here to learn this discipline, and so it made no sense to break it. Besides, once silent, one need only avoid swatting mosquitos, taking others’ cushions, and masturbating to fulfill the precepts.
Goenka’s Buddhism, and the meditation technique
The first three days are spent in annapana, focusing exclusively on the sensation of breath on your nostrils. Then the next 7 days are vipassana — focusing on the sensations arising in your body through constant mental scanning, and accepting them with equanimity. On the last day, you practice metta — exuding love and compassion into the world.
All of these are done while sitting on a cushion unmoving — though you may change positions outside of the three daily 1 hour blocks of aditthanna — strong determination, where you must not move at all.
Buddhism (as I learned here, at least) is built around mastery of the mind, living in the present moment, and non-attachment. Things happen in life and we should remain unflappable about them — all suffering in life comes from not getting what we want, or getting things we don’t want.
By observing natural body sensations without attachment, one learns to do so with their thoughts, along with the rest of the things that happen in life. To perceive without thinking, feel without moving, and experience without attachment. Easier said than done!
As Goenka says repeatedly, Buddhism is more of a philosophy than a dogma, so it is not at odds with other religions. It does not worship gods or demand prayer from you — only asks for your breath and patience in order to enjoy its fruits.
Indeed, he closes every session by incanting ‘May all beings be happy’, and it is the wish of any practitioner that all beings may likewise release themselves of craving and experience true happiness without attachments. (I remember becoming infuriated hearing this blind repetition again and again, and shaming myself for it, for who can truly object to such a wish?)
You never know when Goenka will give you new instructions or simply repeat his earlier directive to ‘Start with a caaalm and collected mind. Equanimous mind.’, which gets repetitive but is important to remember and difficult to practice.
As a teacher, he is effective, if minimal, and expounds on the theory in nightly one hour recorded lectures. He is also humble and humorous, filled with stories of the Buddha and wry comments about modern life in lilted English, like: ‘Vonderfull!” “Madness!” “Nothing doing!” or “Why we are doing this?”
The doctrine is surprisingly accessible, with the except of brief mentions of past lives and sub-atomic particles called kalapas, which apparently all matter is made of. He exhorts you not to let disagreements with part of the doctrine poison the whole — take the parts that work and ignore that which doesn’t.
I enjoyed the concept of sankharas— mental knots of craving, ignorance, or aversion that we create in out minds whenever we want something. Vipassana claims to untangle these knots through the practice of nonattachment — when you experience sensations and ignore them, they will become dismissed by the mind.
Sankharas are conditioned ways of reacting to the moment, while true living is through action left unconstrained by past or future expectations.
My Lived Experience
I won’t lie. Sitting and meditating for ten days was one of the hardest things I have ever done.
It wasn’t hard to do moment by moment, but it was hard to keep up. To stop thinking trivialities, to sit equanimous for an hour during breaks, to wake up early, to not move during strong sittings — all very difficult to keep up. I know most students thought about leaving more than a few times — but we all knew that the benefits come later in the sit.
I thought so many things, dear reader! I surfaced long forgotten memories, sketched out todo lists for months in advance, relived all my sexual fantasies and concocted new ones, rewatched movies and songs in my head, and on and on, ad naseum.
The monkey mind is a tough thing to silence. The practice does not penalize these wanderings— instead it asks us to ‘smilingly’ bring it back to breath and sensation whenever one notices them.
Other blog posts speak of feeling caged within the confines of the course, but I felt very free! Freedom from is just as valuable as freedom for:
I was free from cooking — delicious vegetarian food served twice daily.
I was free from talking — we were told to systemically ignore other humans!
I was free from distraction — no electronics or music or anything but nature.
I was free from timekeeping — gentle gongs sounded whenever a session changed.
I was free from carrying items — I existed exclusively between the dhamma hall, the dining hall, and my residence — each with water, bathrooms, and sit spots.
I never had to make any choices or fulfill any responsibilities.
My most exceptional moment was the morning of day seven, when I unexpectedly started crying tears of sheer gratitude and goodwill for everyone in my life. I certainly didn’t see that one coming! It was such a wonderful mental state to live in gratitude, humility, equanimity, and calm.
I also cried unexpectedly at the end of the last sit on day 10 — after so many days of wishing it was over when I could finally go home. Every day I juggled the paradoxical thoughts of being so glad I did this, and wishing it was over. By the time it ended, I was definitely ready to leave ( days 8 and 9 were rough), but it was still bittersweet.
For the second half of day 10, noble silence is lifted and you’re allowed to talk during breaks — which engendered a carnival-esque festive atmosphere like no other I have ever experienced.
I imagine it must be like those Christian and Muslim holidays where you fast for weeks and then celebrate when it’s over — when floodgates open, wow, they open!
I had constructed intricate life backstories for every fellow student based on their walks and clothes and manners — which were never correct, like radio DJs never looking like their voices. Everyone I spoke to was universally happy to have done the course and excited to share our experiences, which were all different. Some hallucinated, some sat in pain, some in bliss, some felt barely anything at all.
My fellow students covered an impressive array of backgrounds — people from all over California and beyond, of all vocations and economic classes, ages, and races — though with slightly more Indians and Southeast Asians than the general population, I daresay. People came for all sorts of reasons: as grieving spouses, as curious backpackers, as practicing Buddhists, and everything in between.
Once I returned to reality, I immediately wrote down all the thoughts I had deemed important during the sit, which turned out to be only about 20 mundane concepts, rather than the hundreds of epiphanies they felt like.
The world felt fresh and new, like it feels when coming back from a festival. Every night felt like Christmas for a while — I was so grateful to be living my same life, to wake up and be me for another day.
These feelings faded, of course, and I can’t say I have stuck to the 2 hours daily meditation prescribed by Goenka to continue the practice. But one does not have to live in a country for it to leave an indelible mark.
Personal Changes
- I would say a third of my sits overall were excellent, a third meh, and a third completely scatterbrained. One cannot get attached to such things and simply make the best of any given sit or moment.
- After a few days, I found myself in a kind of fugue state, simply continuing to exist without conscious effort. Which sounds rather scary, but was actually quite pleasant.
- I felt more embodied in my body — feeling its sensations and able to tap into subtle vibrations or feelings throughout. Even the pleasant tingling numbness we are told to cultivate was not to become an attachment — enjoying that mediation side effect is a trap on the road to enlightenment.
- I learned to feel compassion for the annoying guy in the hall who kept clearing his nose. Instead of wishing he would shut up, I found myself wishing him well in his time of need, given how runny and congested he must be.
- There’s a seductive fantasy many of us have to drop it all and live as simply as a monk in the mountains. I had it, and after this I learned I don’t actually want to be a monk — just to moonlight as one. Just like tropical getaways, they’re only valuable as escapes.
(Goenka even talks about this, noting that devoted Buddhists may wish to leave their lives behind to practice harder, and that this is unnecessary — one can remain a ‘householder’ and a devotee.)
Comparable Experiences
Now, let’s say you’re lazy or rushed and want a shortcut to enlightenment without sitting with yourself for endless hours. That’s impossible, but I will say that the only two things I know of that compare remotely to this are the Landmark Forum, and psychedelic drugs.
The Landmark Forum sounds as far from Buddhism as one can get, with its 3 days of coaches reducing people to tears on stage and requests to enroll all your friends. But some precepts are quite similar.
Their saying “It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t matter” is another way of preaching nonattachment, and their terms ‘stories’ and ‘rackets’ (mental self talk that hold us back from reality and success) sound a lot like sankharas. And both have leaders who stepped out of the spotlight — Goenka tells you not to listen to him — only to live it, and Werner Erhard stepped away from Landmark to avoid cult accusations in the 70s.
One costs $800, takes a weekend, and has continuing courses, while the other is free for ten days, with optional donations only allowed afterwards. Both ask you to bring all your friends (with different pushiness, sure) and have labor forces entirely composed of volunteers wanting to share the authentic value they got.
I did the Landmark Forum and do recommend it, though their sell is so hard as to turn many off — while the total lack of marketing and upfront cost to vipassana makes it easy to share. Indeed, it was the offhand way others told me about vipassana that attracted me there, (though admittedly later in life than I got to the Forum).
Meanwhile, any psychonaut can tell you about the similarities between psychedelics and meditation. Both trigger novel mental states, feel distinct yet realer than ever, change people’s thought patterns, and end with adherents proselytizing to everyone they know to join.
Much of the gleeful happiness I experienced during vipassana was comparable to chemical highs, with the difference being that I was more sober than I’d ever normally be. That was a beautiful realization — to live the knowledge that breathwork can get you to the same place that pills can.
As someone anonymous once said “Taking acid is like helicoptering into the Grand Canyon. The views blow your mind, but you don’t know how to return. Meditation is like hiking in — it takes more time and work, but you’ll know how to find the way back again.”
Conclusion
I would universally recommend this experience to anyone who is interested. All I would say is— be committed. Decide to do it, or don’t — but stick to the decision with your all.
You get out of this what you put in, and no more, with no disciplinarian to rap you on the wrist when you falter. Just like Burning Man, you’ll love it if you want it and hate it if you don’t.
I’m eternally grateful to SN Goenka, the Buddha, and all the volunteers at my session for enabling this experience for me and everyone else.
May all beings be happy!
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