The power of silence

I recently spent 3 days at a Buddhist meditation retreat in complete silence, practicing the Vipassana style of meditation.

It is a type of meditation that requires the meditator to observe one’s thoughts, emotions, sensations and anything else that arises during the periods of sitting or walking meditation. It is an investigation of oneself and into what causes any internal suffering (ie the stories we tell ourselves). The more mindfully we observe what arises, the more we are more able to notice the internal dialogue that distracts us from being fully present with ourselves. Full presence, as it refers to being in the present moment, means noticing any sensations, thoughts or emotions that arise and simply observing our relationship to them.

Do we try to repress the emotions or do we allow them to be there? Do we judge the thoughts that arise or do we watch them curiously, becoming the observer of the thoughts as opposed to indulging in them? Can we accept any tension in our muscles as we sit in stillness or do we crave to move around to minimise it? Questions like these tend to be answered throughout the time spent at such a retreat, with more being revealed the longer we are engulfed in silence. The longer the time spent in silence, the greater the opportunity for heightened self awareness.

The impact of silence during the retreat is definitely one of intensity. Phones are switched off and any reading is discouraged. With the absence of external distractions, the body is provided the space it needs to regurgitate the things we have so far repressed. During or following the meditation sessions, anything previously repressed may begin to surface. Perhaps where we have repressed sadness, we may experience an emotional release such as crying. It could be in the form of a physical release, like the feeling of energy flowing through the body or in body trembles or shakes. The Buddhists call this the ‘purification process’, which is essentially the body carrying out its natural healing abilities by flushing out any tension or trauma that the person may be storing unnecessarily. The longer we are plunged into silence, the more capacity it allows our nervous system, and we can begin to surrender more and more to whatever needs to be released.

Another interesting insight I received was in recognising the relationship that I have to discomfort. Not only were the periods of sitting meditation physically uncomfortable in the beginning, if you’re an over-thinker like I am, it was pretty uncomfortable on a mental level at times too. During one sitting I felt as though I was pinned to a wall, nowhere to hide, forced to look at myself and the narratives I was creating about my life. I noticed myself wanting to push away any signs of discomfort

almost immediately, whether it be an itchy head or a muscular pain in my back. I remember the meditation teacher saying “When you feel an itch it is the sign of a restless mind”.

Then after about two days, the upright sitting posture became easier and the aches and pains in my back seemed to ease. The mental side of things remained challenging though. I became aware of how one thought could evolve into the length of a novel in the space of one sitting (45 minutes). It shone a light on how creative yet destructive my mind could be, producing narratives that were completely fictional yet had the capacity to form a part of my identity. It illustrated even further the importance of investigating our own minds, separating fact from fiction, and growing self awareness to avoid getting lost in procrastination that has the potential to lead us to great suffering. Now of course, some forms of story and creativity that we conjure up in our minds create much joy and happiness. However, the point the Buddhists are making here is that whenever we are up in the mind getting lost in story, whether it be joyful or woeful, we are not being fully present. Full presence is the state we must be in to draw us out of ego, and into essence.

In the modern world, we have become socialised to satisfy our needs with external objects. The beautiful new home, the shiny new car, the pay rise at work we’ve been waiting for. This is the egoic mindset, the mindset that leads us to believe that if we achieve or do something outside of ourselves, then we will reach a permanent state of happiness. As most of us can relate, usually after we’ve purchased or achieved something, the satisfaction wanes and we’re onto chasing the next big thing. There’s nothing wrong with acquiring material objects, but we have to be careful about how deeply we attach to them with the expectation that they will make us permanently happy. Impermanence is the Buddhist messaging here.

As it relates to my coaching practice, this is an interesting point when working with goal setting. Coaching is goal oriented, so setting strong, aligned goals is important. Alignment being the key here: where we come from when choosing goals will reflect how effectively we are able to embody what we believe the goal will give us (eg happiness). If we choose goals from an egoic mindset, it tends to stem from scarcity. The aim is to source the goals from our essence, our higher self.

For example, a client wants to make 1 million pounds in one year. From an egoic mindset, they could be choosing this goal because they like the idea of 1 million pounds sitting in the bank. Most of us initially choose goals from this mindset because we are choosing from our conditioning, our minds. The question I would ask the client to help them tap into a place of essence, is why do you want to make 1 million pounds. If it was solely because 1 million sounds nice, I would invite them to look a little deeper. Often what is underneath the goal are desired feelings such as “because it would make me feel safe” or “because I would feel free”. Once this deeper desired feeling is uncovered, we must learn to cultivate it in our bodies now, so we no longer feel the need to search for external things to give us the feeling. Silence proves especially helpful, if not crucial, in helping people tap into their own inner wisdom during these sorts of sessions. We need to be quiet to go inwards and find the deeper desired feelings, beyond the thinking of the mind.

Overall, silence reveals to us the capacity we have to be with ourselves. It shows us how we speak to ourselves, how our thoughts evoke sensations and emotions in our bodies (and vis versa), and how we often resist being completely still. It heightens our senses as we get out of our heads and drop into our bodies. We become the investigators of our own thoughts and patterns, growing awareness of self and observing the difference between fantasy and reality. It reveals our tendencies to use external pleasures as a form of escapism, and how difficult it can be to sit with the shadow parts of ourselves that we have repressed. But the truth is, facing ourselves is easier than avoiding. As we face what we have repressed, it frees us from our minds and breaks the shackles that have prevented us from deep personal growth. I suggest you try sitting in silence, even for a minute a day to begin with. It’s free, accessible, and an incredible way to get to know yourself and who you really are at your core. You might be surprised by what you learn.