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“If there is no tranquility in the minds of individuals, how can peace exist in the world? Cultivate peace within your own mind first.” ~S. N. Goenka
I have recently finished my third Vipassana meditation course.
At the start of the course, there is a significant moment when you hand in your phone (which is returned at the conclusion). That change feels profoundly symbolic. The outside world gradually becomes quiet, not instantaneously, but obviously. Only then do you comprehend how much noise you’ve been carrying.
I never wish to have it back at the end. Never.
Ten days without a phone. No reading materials. No journaling. No eye contact. No discussions. No external stimuli whatsoever.
It’s an unusual kind of commitment in a society that revels in distraction. Not an escape from life, but a embracing of it—without shields, without numbing, without the usual exits.
As this was my third course, I entered with genuine curiosity about how it would resonate with me this time. I had just navigated one of the most pivotal phases of my life—a time of letting go, redirecting, and profound internal evaluation. I wondered whether the experience would feel familiar… or completely novel.
The routine remains consistent. Wake-up bell at 4:00 a.m. Meditation from 4:30 a.m. until 9:00 p.m.—around ten hours daily. Breakfast at 6:30: plain oats and fruit. Lunch at 11:00: wholesome, vegetarian, and honestly delicious. Then fasting until the next morning (newcomers receive fruit at teatime; seasoned students do not).
I never experienced hunger. An empty stomach surprisingly facilitates meditation, and when you’re seated most of the day, your body requires little.
Each evening, we view a discourse led by S.N. Goenka—a Burmese entrepreneur turned meditation teacher who brought Vipassana to the West and founded hundreds of centers globally. Although he passed more than a decade ago, his voice continues to guide every course. The instructions, teachings, and humor—remain unchanged.
I cherish the purity of that. The technique hasn’t been personalized or watered down. It stays universal. Timeless. Intact.
Understanding Vipassana
Vipassana is a meditative practice grounded in direct sensation.
You systematically direct your awareness throughout the body, observing sensations as they are—pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral—without craving what feels good or pushing away what feels uncomfortable.
This is how the mind is purified at its core. Not through thought. Through sensation.
We practice equanimity. Non-reaction. Tranquility amid experience.
And this is how we learn to refrain from reacting in our lives beyond the meditation hall.
As you sit for a considerable time, the body ceases to feel solid. Scientific understanding tells us we are composed of trillions of subatomic particles, and Vipassana makes that tangible. I knew my hands rested in my lap, but I couldn’t sense them. At times, my body felt as though it had vanished entirely.
Perceiving What Is Truly There
Vipassana doesn’t merely reveal transcendence.
It reveals everything.
You gain a front-row experience of your inner world, with no escape. And when there’s nowhere to turn, what is within emerges—whether you appreciate it or not.
Then there was my inner troublemaker. Very much alive.
No one smiles. No one makes eye contact. There are regulations for everything. Silence. Stillness. Structure. And my playful side enjoyed the mayhem.
I imagined flicking people’s ears in the meditation hall. Shoving someone into the snow outside. Snatching a woman’s carrot cake while she stepped away for tea and acting as if nothing occurred.
It kept me amused. And strangely… regulated.
There were also extended periods of complete distraction.
I penned an entire book in my mind. Recalled every individual from elementary school—siblings included. Replayed my complete student-teaching experience. Planned future discussions. Solved problems that weren’t even issues.
And then came the tougher realizations.
My ego was fully exposed. Greed. Judgment. Selfishness. Intolerance.
The kinds of aspects we seldom admit dwell within us.
But here’s the truth I now trust deeply: we can’t transform what we refuse to acknowledge.
Vipassana doesn’t require you to amend these parts. It asks you to observe them. To stop acting as if they aren’t there. To approach them with awareness instead of shame.
And in that observation—steady, non-reactive, honest—something begins to soften.
Why Comprehension Is Insufficient
We don’t suffer due to a lack of understanding. We suffer because we respond.
We react in craving—grasping for more of what feels pleasant, pursuing pleasure, seeking certainty, comfort, affirmation.
And we respond in aversion—resisting discomfort, evading pain, numbing unwanted sensations, tightening against dis-ease.
This continual push and pull—towards what we desire and away from what we despise—keeps us in a state of unrest. Agitated. Never fully at peace.
Mindset work eventually encounters limitations because we are far more than our minds.
We possess a body. A nervous system. A soul. A lineage. A history carried in our tissues.
And don’t misunderstand me—I relish understanding. I’m fascinated by it. Understanding myself, others, the world. But understanding has its boundaries.
Nothing alters simply because we know more.
Vipassana instructs something profoundly different: the middle way. Not suppression. Not indulgence. But presence.
It provides us space. Peace. Choice. A physical way to practice non-reactivity. To experience life as it is, without being pulled around by desire or fear.
This embodies the true essence of peace.
Confronting the Shadow (and the Burper)
A perfect example: the woman directly behind me.
On the first day, I noticed she had a burping issue. I thought, surely this is just for today. It was not. For ten continuous days, I had an up-close view of her digestive system—gurgles, gas bubbles, belches during each sitting.
Clearly, she was uncomfortable. Clearly, her body was struggling.
And yet… my reaction surprised me.
I didn’t feel slight annoyance. I envisioned smothering her with a pillow. I noted vicious thoughts in my mind. I felt rage—pure, unfiltered intolerance.
I remember wondering, That’s inside of me??
Then came the quiet competitiveness among meditators.
A woman sat next to me—calm, still, seemingly unaffected. In my mind, I canonized her. Look at her, I thought. So equanimous. And here I am, a total jerk.
I would sneak a glance (we’re meant to keep our eyes closed). She appeared peaceful. Unbothered. I wished I could be more like her.
On the tenth day, when silence was lifted and we could finally converse, I asked her how she managed it.
She laughed. She was going a little crazy too.
I approached the teacher on day eight for advice on how to handle it. She had her own struggles on day seven.
There’s a peculiar intimacy that forms when you endure in silence together. You meditate beside the same individuals. Dine beside them. Share bathrooms and silence and shared space.
You’ve never communicated—and yet you feel connected.
You sense that you know each other. Because, in a way, you do.
Sitting With Discomfort, Learning Impermanence
Vipassana presents challenges.
After each course, I assert it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever accomplished. And yet, I depart elated, clear, and profoundly myself—and confident I’ll return.
It’s not difficult for the reasons one might expect. Not the 4 a.m. awakenings. Not the silence. Not even the fasting.
It’s hard because you confront yourself. Your mind. Your discomfort. And you don’t turn away.
For seven days, I sat with a dense bundle of tension along the right side of my back—creeping into my shoulder, along my ribs, down to the base of my rib cage. Pulsating. Aching. Persistent.
The instruction was straightforward: observe. No narratives. No fixing. No resisting.
On the eighth day, the sensation vanished.
Gone.
What once occupied so much space simply melted away. There was space again—space for energy to circulate, for ease to return.
Vipassana teaches impermanence—not as a notion, but as a lived reality.
Everything is perpetually changing. Sensations arise. They fade. Time and again.
Pain is not constant. Pleasure is not lasting. Nothing endures.
Experiencing this firsthand alters how we engage with everything.
Equanimous witnessing is profoundly healing. Mental and physical discomfort flows through the body and mind—without analysis, without therapy, without struggle.
We are not mending ourselves. We are learning to remain.
And in remaining—steadily, patiently, without reaction—something significant unravels.
This Is Not a Retreat
I had to cease referring to Vipassana as a retreat.
There are no hammocks. No umbrella beverages. No beach reads. This is a course.
And you come to engage.
If you seek comfort, this isn’t for you. If you desire transcendence without discomfort, this isn’t it. If you wish to bypass your humanity, this will let you down.
Yet, the course is provided at no cost. Completely run on service. Previous participants volunteer their time. Contributions from those who’ve benefited sustain the centers. There are over 250 permanent centers across the globe, all operated in the same manner.
Non-religious. Non-sectarian. Universal.
Post-Silence
The authentic practice commences after you exit.
You don’t emerge enlightened. You emerge steadier.
I observed how I engaged differently with pain, desire, and annoyance. The greed I recognized in myself softened me—and propelled me towards generosity. Not as a concept, but as action.
In the weeks that followed, I purchased a meal for a man who asked for assistance—something I would have previously evaded. I modified an offer in my work to include donations to a local food bank. I enlisted to volunteer.
Vipassana didn’t prompt me to contemplate these actions more. It made it time to execute them.
At a family gathering, I found myself near someone who has triggered me throughout most of my life. This time, I didn’t react. I felt greater compassion. Even love.
No significant dialogue. No confrontation. Just the capacity to be different in their presence.
Enlightenment is a noble aim. I hope we all achieve it—whether in this life or another.
But perhaps we can also settle for more love, not less. A quieter nervous system. A bit more space. A tad less reactivity. A touch more kindness towards what emerges.
Sometimes peace doesn’t come as a spectacle. Sometimes it arrives as the absence of reaction.
And from that point, everything transforms.
About Andrea Tessier
Andrea Tessier is an author, Self Trust Coach, and Internal Family Systems (IFS) Practitioner who aids ambitious, high-achieving women in developing self-trust, letting go of perfectionism, and embracing authentic leadership. With over six years of experience integrating psychology and spirituality, she guides clients to reconnect with their true selves and lead lives filled with clarity, peace, and wholeness. Download her free Self Trust at a Crossroads Guide.
**Life After 10 Days of Silence: Insights and Changes**
In a world that flourishes on relentless communication and noise, the notion of silence can appear intimidating. However, embarking on a 10-day silence retreat can result in profound insights and transformative changes. This article delves into the experiences and outcomes that individuals may encounter following such a period of intentional silence.
### The Experience of Silence
The initial days of silence can be daunting. Many participants report feelings of restlessness, anxiety, or discomfort as they adjust to the lack of verbal communication and external distractions. This opening phase often acts as a detox from the constant chatter of everyday life, allowing individuals to face their thoughts and emotions without the typical distractions.
As days unfold, participants may begin to notice a shift. The mind starts to quiet, facilitating deeper introspection and self-reflection. Without the need to engage in conversation, many find themselves more in tune with their inner thoughts and emotions. This heightened awareness can yield insights about personal values, relationships, and life objectives.
### Insights Gained
1. **Clarity of Thought**: Numerous individuals report newfound clarity in their thinking. The absence of external noise creates a more focused mind, resulting in enhanced decision-making and problem-solving skills.
2. **Emotional Awareness**: Silence creates a unique chance to explore previously suppressed or overlooked emotions. Participants often attain a deeper grasp of their emotional landscape, leading to heightened emotional intelligence.
3. **Connection to Self**: A break from verbal interaction inspires individuals to reconnect with themselves. Many rediscover passions, interests, or parts of their identity that had been ignored.
4. **Mindfulness and Presence**: The silence practice nurtures mindfulness, enabling individuals to exist in the moment. This presence enhances appreciation for everyday occurrences and can lead to a more fulfilling life.
5. **Enhanced Creativity**: With the mind liberated from constant input, many individuals experience a burst of creativity. Ideas flow more readily, and the capability to think innovatively often increases.
### Changes in Perspective
After ten days of silence, individuals typically return to their daily lives with a refreshed perspective. Here are some common alterations reported:
– **Reduced Need for Communication**: Many find a decreased need to fill every moment with conversation. They become more comfortable with silence in social contexts and recognize the importance of listening.
– **Improved Relationships**: With a deeper understanding of themselves, individuals often approach relationships with renewed empathy and patience. Effective communication often leads to stronger connections.
– **Prioritization of Values**: Insights gathered during silence frequently prompt a reevaluation of personal priorities. Many choose to concentrate on what genuinely matters, whether it be relationships, career paths, or personal growth.
– **Increased Resilience**: Sitting with discomfort throughout silence can foster emotional resilience. Participants often feel better prepared to handle stress and life’s challenges.
### Conclusion
Life after 10 days of silence can be transformative. The insights gained and changes experienced can lead to a more mindful, intentional, and fulfilling existence. While the journey may be demanding, the rewards of self-discovery and personal growth make the experience invaluable. Embracing silence, even in small increments, can provide significant benefits in our noisy world.