Lost and Directionless: I’m Going on a Retreat

Workwise, I feel lost: I don’t know whether to go on with the projects I’ve embarked on or to try something new. My family relationships are complicated and the subject of partners is tricky for me because I feel like I haven’t managed to fully let go of my previous relationship. I’ve tried meditation, yoga, exercise… but I can’t escape this permanent fog which prevents me seeing clearly and making decisions. Like the other times I’ve felt like this, I need to stop, completely; to push the reset button. I decide to look for a retreat for the Easter holidays. After looking at dates and options, I choose the Mindfulness Retreat, organised by Ferran Mestanza in the Masia Sonorells, a country house in the stunning valleys near Espinelves, Girona (Spain).  

Packed up

The day has come. My friends and family say “Oh, how lucky, a retreat” and “I’d like to do that”… but they never go. I think they’re afraid of doing something different, stepping into the unknown. I have no such fear because I’ve been to several retreats before; however, I do go with a feeling of respect and also a reluctance to bother going. Yes, that’s right: it’s an effort to leave everything behind and break the bonds because even though I’m not completely enjoying what I’m doing, it’s what I know and I’m in my comfort zone. I have to make an effort and tell myself: Everything will be fine and I’m sure it’ll be worth it. Here I am, suitcase open and a list that the retreat organiser has sent me. Items to bring: comfortable clothes, meditation cushion, mat for the floor, blanket, thick socks, slippers, notebook and pen, walking boots, torch, swimming trunks, and a waterbottle. I pack then make a list of questions and concerns I have, doubts which I hope to have resolved by the time I return in 4 days. Am I doing the right thing in my professional life? Can I dedicate a little time each day to look after my inner self? What are my priorities in life? It’s as if I’m already starting to concentrate on myself. What a mixture of excitement and laziness!  

The Arrival

I’m on my way and my mind is in overdrive: did I lock everything up? What will the venue be like? And the teacher? What about the other members of the group? All the way, I feel a knot of anxiety in my stomach. The road seems interminable and with all the rushing I haven’t given myself enough time so I arrive 10 minutes late. Am I the last to arrive? Simply entering the house, suitcase in hand, I feel peace wash over me, very different from the turmoil inside me. I amm introduced to the teacher, they show me the rooms and they tell me that we will meet in one hour in the meditation room. I start to relax.  

Beginning

The teacher gathers us together and surprises us by explaining that, really, we are not on a retreat. We have come in order to escape the permanent retreat in which we live every day. We live in a state of retreat from ourselves and our essence; we have actually come to return home, to rediscover ourselves, to recover our natural states. We’re a little taken aback, saying: Is he right? The group of 25 introduce ourselves to each other, each explaining what has brought us here. We all realise that we’re looking for the same thing: inner peace. We begin with a talk about the basis of Mindfulness and its practice: Sit on a cushion, legs crossed, back straight, hands resting on knees with pamls facing upwards, and – the most difficult part – concentrate on your breathing; allow any thought to float into your mind without judging it. I find it hard to focus in the first session; my mind swirls with thoughts and my back aches. It’s dinnertime and we all gather in the dining room where we break the ice amongst ourselves. The food is superb: everything is vegetarian and there are dishes I’ve never tried before. As the teacher has instructed us to do, we put down the fork after every mouthful and we take our time to chew.

In the session after dinner, we work in groups, talking about the problems we think we may encounter during the retreat. We get to know each other a little bit better. We have one last session of meditation and we are told: tomorrow morning we will start in absolute silence.  

Day 2

We get up at 6:20 a.m. for the first meditation session. It is hard getting up but we start meditating, birds singing in the pre-dawn light. My mind isn’t the same as yesterday; it doesn’t flit as much to other thoughts and I’m acutely aware of my own body. At 8:30 I have breakfast. Everything is delicious: toast, tomato, guacamole, fruit, cereal… I feel good. After breakfast, total silence begins. It will not be broken until the following afternoon. The truth is that during the first hour we’d hardly spoken anyway. Now, everyone withdraws into their own world and isolates themselves from the rest of the group. I, too, go into my own world. With exterior silence, the interior dialogue begins. The meditation sessions are back-to-back, whether sitting down or walking but always with the view of concentrating on the body and breathing. It’s not easy and thoughts about your life crowd into your head. It’s curious, though, because the more meditation we do, the more relative our problems seem. 

After dinner, I feel very tired, and yet relaxed and calm. It isn’t easy switching off from everything all day. There are moments when I think: Why don’t I leave now and go to the beach for the next few days? But I soon think about the peace and tranquillity I feel and what brought me here. I’m exhausted, what with getting up so early, then concentrating, trying to focus, the breathing… as soon as the last meditation session is over, I go to bed.  

Day 3

I get up and shower to wake myself up. We start the sessions and I’m feeling relaxed. This sensation of peace and power over myself is getting stronger. During the walk, lasting half the morning, I feel happy and I’m enjoying being here in the middle of nature. Thoughts pop into my head and most of them are solutions to some of my previous worries and insecurities. My life seems easier.

After breakfast, it becomes clear that people are getting a bit restless, with whispers and looks breaking out. We want to speak, to communicate to each other because we only really know each other from the shared experience. At last, after the evening session, the silence comes to an end. We all want to share our thoughts on the experience. For me, not speaking for 2 days has been amazing and a source of heavenly peace. I think: “Everyone should try this.” 

The last day

 The teacher lets us skip the first meditation session and we meet up at breakfast. It’s wonderful. The day has a special feeling to it.   

Over the course of the morning, we do a few exercises. The teacher gives us some advice for when we return to our lives outside these walls. We talk about our experiences. Some of the comments are: “I’ve realised how easy it is to meditate, just live the moment” “An unbelievable experience” “I didn’t expect this feeling of harmony” “There is a before and after in my life” “I’m taking away this peace and energy to face the changes in my life” At this point, I think about the questions I asked myself the day I arrived and I answer them:

Everything is clear and I want to carry on with my work projects; I’m going the right way.

I want to keep up this state I’ve got to and I promise myself 20 minutes of meditation every day, no excuses; whenever I can’t be bothered I will remember what I feel now.

My priorities are my family, my career, and myself. If I have these 3 pillars, I can add on anything I wish.

 Now I feel radiant, calm, and as light as a cloud. I’m surprised at how much my feelings have changed in only 4 days. My soul and my life vision have totally transformed. It’s amazing how these retreats imbue you with this sense of happiness.

Is this what the teacher meant when he said that this was a homecoming?