Why, in these challenging and over-stimulating times, longer retreats can leave us more comfortable in our skin, more creative and able to wisely contribute
- Our teacher Jaya Rugard shares how two weeks can make all the difference
In a week’s time, lucky me, I’ll begin a two-week meditation retreat. Not teaching one, but actually getting to be on retreat myself. For this particular retreat, I’ll be at Gaia House in the UK, staying as a personal retreatant.
People sometimes think dharma teachers spend lots of time doing their own retreats, but the reality is that we are quite like most other busy working people, trying to juggle work with family obligations, taking care of tedious life-admin, hoping to keep up with our friends and even enjoy the odd hobby that doesn’t involve sitting on a meditation cushion.
Because my work commitments might be scheduled two years in advance, it becomes quite tricky to make spaces in the diary and hold onto them unless I form a strong intention to stay firm when other things start clamouring to be squeezed in. But last autumn I also managed a month at Insight Meditation Society in Massachusetts, participating in their annual 3-month retreat, as a part of a mini-sabbatical. It’s very rare for me to have two reasonably substantial periods of retreat within six months of each other.
As I anticipate my precious fortnight on retreat, I’ve also been planning with Bodhi College a two week retreat that Yuka Nakamura and I, along with Denis Bicanic, will be offering in Holland next year. It’s got me thinking a lot about what I love about being on a longer retreat.
Many retreats these days are about 5 days long. It’s understandable because that makes them easier to fit into most people’s diaries. And a retreat of that length is most definitely worth doing. But I often find it takes two or three days to settle down into a retreat, and with a 5 day retreat it can feel like just when you are getting into the swing of things you are starting to think about finishing. If I go on retreat for less than a week, I can usually get by without putting an “out of office” on my email. I may be working right up to the start of the retreat and back at my computer the day it ends. It makes it harder to switch mentally out of work-mode or to make sensible plans for being absent.
If I know I’ll be on retreat two weeks or more, a different mindset seems to set in. It’s long enough that I know I need to tell people I’m away, put up that “out of office” sign and properly clear the space in my diary. I might even be careful to schedule a day before to get ready and a day or two on my return, to make a more gentle and leisurely transition. And then comes the joy of completely unplugging from technology. When on retreat I always switch off my phone (and laptop) off for the duration and, if invited to do so, hand it in. There’s a wrench at first – showing me how addicted I am to reaching for my phone in moments of restlessness, distress or boredom. But that soon wears off to reveal a vast, tech-free world both internally and externally.
With 2 weeks ahead of me I can relax more about giving myself time to settle in. If I am super sleepy the first few days, or my mind is still racing with my to-do list, I know that even if I spend the first couple of days resting or just calming down a little, I still have plenty of retreat time coming.
I sometimes have a clear intention for a retreat, but often I need the spaciousness of being on retreat itself before a wise intention becomes clear. That’s ok with me as one never knows how a retreat will be until it begins.
Last October I was so happy to be at IMS. I have done several long retreats there and have my cherished habits – one of which is early morning stargazing. About three days into my retreat I went out to look at the stars on my way to get an early morning cup of tea. As I looked up at the clear night sky I remember thinking “I am so lucky. Everything I need for my retreat is right here”. The very next second I missed a step in the concrete path and fell to the ground with a bang. My ankle rolled completely over and I heard a snap, which I later discovered meant a torn ligament and fractured heelbone. So I spent the rest of the retreat limping to and fro from my room to the dining room and the meditation hall at a speed that would have impressed even the strictest of Mahasi-style practitioners. I was also completely unable to sit in my usual meditation position and needed to sit on chairs all month with my foot up. I didn’t leave the campus for a walk once. Yet I realised very quickly that that was exactly what I had needed. Something to make me completely slow down. And I had a wonderful retreat.
I’m seriously hoping though that this next retreat will be a little less dramatic.
Gratitude comes up a lot for me on retreat. For the dharma and the teachings that have been passed down to us, and for having the opportunity to practice. And for mundane things too. It’s wonderful to be cooked for and not to have to think about food and shopping. Having a regular routine enables me to really rest, and eventually often to sleep much better than usual. Since most retreat centres are away from big towns or cities, I get to be closer to nature. I especially love to be outside when I can as the dawn comes and at dusk in the evening.
One of the reasons I like to do structured group retreats, like the one at IMS, is that the group’s energy and the rhythm of a shared schedule is really supportive. I love the silent company of other people practising alongside me, reminding me of my own aspirations, revealing things to me about myself as I watch where my attention is drawn, attractions and aversions arise, and my self-sense rises and falls. I like to listen to the dharma talks in the evening, coaxing my mind into wiser avenues of reflection. When hindrances diminish or disappear, the mind finds great joy in listening to dharma.
Over a longer retreat, one gets to experience cycles of inspiration and boredom, motivation and discouragement. Seeing these cycles come and go, I find them less and less destabilising, and that feels empowering. Gradually the momentum of the practice builds, insights arise and my faith in practice is recharged. In challenging times I can let the group energy carry me, and when my own practice is flowing, I like to think of it supporting others.
People who haven’t tried a longer retreat or who haven’t caught the retreat bug can often wonder what the use is of stepping out of ordinary life for such an amount of time. Is it just self-indulgent navel-gazing? How are you contributing to the world? Don’t you risk becoming merely a passive participant in life and less and less productive?
Actually I think that in these times of so many dehumanising forces in the world and endless bombardment with stimulation and information, spending time slowing down, getting to know our own minds, and letting the mind quieten and re-sensitise itself, is a necessity not a luxury. I’m always heartened and encouraged when I hear others saying the same thing. Even people who I think of as super-busy and super-productive. Rory Stewart, for example, former UK politician and successful podcaster, or the historian Yuval Harari. Both of them go on regular vipassana retreats, Harari for a month or two every year. In fact he credits his ability to do the things he does to his meditation practice. (if you are interested there is a wonderful and thought-provoking interview with him by Ajahns Kovilo and Nisabho on their Clear Mountain Podcast HERE)
I don’t think I will emerge from my upcoming retreat as the next Rory Stewart or Yuval Harari. That isn’t the point. But, after all the retreats I have done over the years, I feel confident to say that I will come back refreshed, a little wiser in some way I don’t yet know, and more comfortable in my own skin, just being me. And I know that when I feel that way, I’m more creative and have more to contribute. May all beings who are drawn to practise in this way find the opportunity to do so!
If you’d like to try a longer retreat, we have one in 2027 with Jaya, Yuka and Denis. More information here.