Why a Deeper Silence?

A personal reflection on the need to retreat into silence in various ways.

I had been writing and posting just about every day here on Substack until the end of the 40 day practice I had created for myself.

Once that was finished, for a number of reasons, I was exhausted past anything I had experienced for years.

I would wake up each day, meditate, and then need to go back to sleep rather than write. If I did write, it would be only for a short time before I was drawn back into sleep. Some things I have written over the past few weeks are still in rough draft form, abandoned for now at that stage.

Willingness to Disappoint

While I am in some ways easing into a more secure attachment style within myself, there are still areas of my life where decades of anxious attachment are very evident.

Disappointing other people is terrifying for the anxiously attached. Fortunately in the context of writing here, only a tiny handful of people would even notice if I only wrote something a couple of times of week rather than daily, and I can talk to them in other ways. Initially it was more disappointing myself that I struggled with, because I had become quite attached to my daily words here and felt I was letting myself down by breaking the habit.

But if you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing. I decided I had pretty much written myself out for the moment.

No, the disappointing others wasn’t really about writing here.

It was, in one sense anyway, about having largely given up spending time on three other social media platforms that used to consume a lot of bandwidth before I began writing on Substack. I worried about letting people down who enjoyed what I wrote in those places, who appreciated my likes and comments on their posts.

Even more importantly, though, it was feeling I was letting down friends and family for whom I had so little time to reach out to them to talk. Would they think I no longer cared? Would they worry I was falling into another depression?

It felt risky, but my life has changed now. Listening to myself, what I need in the moment and on any particular day has become the foundation of how I live, rather than trudging through ticking off a long list of things I ‘have to do’, pushing myself through them regardless of how much my body might yell at me to slow down.

And the fatigue went deep, far beyond the physical, so I had to pay attention to that.

Thus I retreated within myself. Slept for hours more at night than I had been used to. Went back for a nap during the day whenever I could. In between the busyness of work and other commitments, and through the heaviness of the anxiety that has been pressing hard on me, further draining, because of a crucial work-related area I am having trouble completing, I read more books in weeks than I had read in months because it was wonderfully restful and enjoyable to do that. Reading met a need that I hadn’t realised was there.

Two Retreats?

As it happens, and it feels like no accident at all but precisely what was needed, there are two silent retreats coming up for me in May. The first will be longer than I have experienced so far. Four days and four nights in silence at a location hours away from my home. The second will be a half day retreat with my local meditation group.

I first began hoping to attend the four day retreat late last year. It had been years since I participated in a weekend retreat, so I was excited for this opportunity to extend my time in silence, and was delighted when it was confirmed to go ahead.

It couldn’t have come at a better time. On the one hand, I only have a limited number of weeks to complete all the steps in that work-related project I mentioned, that has been consuming bandwidth. This further reduces my available time to work on it for a full business week. But it feels like the need is to double down on that principle that when things get busier, one needs even more time to be in silence.

The second retreat feels like bonus time, which is lovely.

Retreating from Retreating?

Ok, you might think, but didn’t I say I had already been retreating, spending less time with others? So why would I need to retreat further?

I had a very amusing conversation with one of my dear cousins a couple of months ago. We were talking about the way her sister and me enjoy going on silent retreats. It didn’t make any sense to her at all. Why would anyone spend money and take so much time away from their busy life to be in silence all day?

I totally got it from her point of view. And there are parts of me that revel in connection with others. Conversations on the phone that can last hours. The privilege of 21st century communication with a plethora of people through texting apps and social media. Long walks with friends, catching up about their lives while we enjoy the exercise and being immersed in nature. Heart to heart conversations sitting down with a cup of tea or in other in person contexts.

So does it make sense that having already pulled back from many of the above kinds of interactions, I am eagerly looking forward to basically five days of silence and zero communication with anyone important in my life? That having renewed my passionate relationship with writing and more recently with reading books, I am keen to have five days without either reading or writing?

It may come across as very counter-intuitive. And I will be honest, not reading or writing for days feels daunting at this moment, though I am fully willing to enter into that commitment, understanding it to be a necessary part of the experience.

How I Expect to Spend My Time

If you’re still reading by this point, you may be wondering what I will do with all that time in silence.

Throughout each day, between meal times spent in silence, there will be set times of group meditation and listening to presentations by Nada Conic on The Cloud of Unknowing, that famous medieval contemplative book. If you’re curious about it, there’s an extensive Google preview here of the most accessible modern translation of it that I am aware of, by Carmen Acevedo Butcher, that includes the introduction by Carmen and the preface and first chapters of the book.

The retreat centre is described as being on ‘150 acres of forestry and open land’ and has 5 hiking trails from easy to hard, including part of the Bruce Trail which extends nearly 1,400 km across Ontario.

I frequently hike some of the sections of the latter that go through Hamilton and am looking forward to exploring as many of the property’s trails that time and energy will allow.

Unitasking

One of the most glorious things about being on retreat is the continual experience day after day of unitasking.

Without the constant interruptions many of us experience while navigating each day of phone calls, text messages, messages on apps, social media notifications, and in person bids for attention, it is possible to do only one thing at a given time.

To eat without talking with someone, reading, or watching a show.

To walk in nature fully in that experience.

To hear someone present a talk without the distraction of taking notes, questions, or chatter.

Multitasking, or shuttling frenetically from task to task, wears humans down. It’s unnatural and forcing ourselves to do it day after day is draining.

A silent retreat provides the time, space, and structure to be free to unitask, and in that freedom to be more or less continually in the moment without the usual constraints or distractions.

And that, for me, is a priceless opportunity, the logical next step in my personal journey.

Questions

Have you ever been on a silent retreat?

What was it like?

Were there aspects of it that you found difficult?

Are there things about silent retreats that are so terrifying or unpleasant to you that you wouldn’t consider going on one?

Have you read the Cloud of Unknowing?

I’d love to hear your answers to any or none of the above or whatever you’d like to say after reading this.