Attention is the purest and rarest form of generosity.
-       Simone Weil (French philosopher)

Would you believe there is some research that shows people would rather give themselves electric shocks than spend 15 minutes contemplating what arises in their own mind. 

Which means that, understandably, the idea of a meditation retreat might make one shudder with horror.

On retreat, with the usual pressures and demands taken away, we give over to being with the flows of mind and body – that is, our perception. We get time and space to slow way down and gain some insight into how the flow of our inner life unfolds and is generated.  

When I went on my first silent 10-day retreat, aged 22, I was struck by how my appraisal of the situation changed on a daily, and sometimes hourly basis. Sometimes I was feeling as if this was the most liberating, exquisite discovery I had made in my short life. At other times, I felt intensely persecuted by everyone and everything around me. Embarrassingly, it seemed to depend on how pleasant or unpleasant I was finding any particular moment. 

Yet, day by day, as I trained myself not to be so reactive to unpleasant body sensations, I found that a sense of ease, confidence and clarity arose.  

I like how American essayist Barry Lopez writes of his initial meeting with and embrace of the traditional desert landscape of the Warlpiri people in the Northern Territory of Australia: 

My goal that day was intimacy — the tactile, olfactory, visual, and sonic details of what, to most people in my culture, would appear to be a wasteland. This simple technique of awareness had long been my way to open a conversation with any unfamiliar landscape. Who are you? I would ask. How do I say your name? May I sit down? I wanted to open myself up as fully as I could to the possibility of loving this place, in some way; but to approach that goal, I had first to come to know it. As is sometimes the case with other types of acquaintanceships, to suddenly love without really knowing is to opt for romance, not commitment and obligation. 

To bring this kind of attention and intimacy into our lives is a precious thing. A retreat offers us the time, space and energy to meet all the strange creatures inside that emerge: in our sits, our walks, our bodies, our dreams, our imaginations, our desires, and in our projections on to others. 

There is immense value in getting more curious about all the beings inside us, just like Lopez asks himself to get deeply curious about the new landscape he finds himself in. Who are you? How do I say your name? May I sit down?

And … could I open myself up to the possibility of loving this place, in some way.

This is what is precious about a silent retreat: that we get to pay attention all day and night. And by doing so we spend the time learning how to relate to and care for these experiences inside us, and care for the space we are occupying with others.

—Timothea Goddard