Hi Tom and Lenka.
I’m sending a few words about my dark retreat. It’s been more than a month now since I did my week in the dark, and memories of the stay still keep coming back to me, in quite some detail. When I was deciding on a dark retreat, sometime in October last year, I knew very little about the dark. My life situation at the time wasn’t very kind to me, so I started reading The Four Agreements, and I kept hearing and reading about the power of the present moment, meditation and so on. So I moved from theory to practice and meditated and meditated and meditated… It was a liberating period, because meditation helped me a great deal to wipe away the past and live right now. I felt wonderfully good, so I told myself this was the right path. I combined it with yoga and a healthy lifestyle and enjoyed the presence of friends and family. I deliberately booked my dark retreat for the end of March, because I love spring and it seemed to me the ideal time. Even though spring this year put up quite a fight with winter :). Oddly enough, it didn’t bother me at all; maybe you infected me, Tom, because whenever I asked what it was like outside, you’d often reply that for you it’s beautiful in any weather, and I took it to heart. Or maybe it’s the retreat itself, because the weather and nature really are what’s missing in there.
I spent six months preparing for a week in the dark
So I had six months to prepare, and I really didn’t want to underestimate that, because it’s an unusual situation that needn’t be easy at all. And I did the right thing. When I arrived at your place I was so nervous that I didn’t even notice what a beautiful spot I was in. You welcomed me, Tom, with a smile and an energy that gave me courage. After the basic instructions you gave me and a quick tour of the cabin, it was suddenly here, the moment I’d feared most: the hand on the light switch. I had a mandarin in my hand and ate half of it in the light and the other half in the dark. I didn’t hesitate long, about a minute, and off we go… Here it is, excitement, enthusiasm, but no doubts. After just a few minutes I was sure I could do it. I felt safe. I switched off at about six, so the first day was short; I had a shower and went to lie down. I fell asleep almost immediately. The next day, when I woke up, I no longer had any sense of time. All through the retreat I got my bearings from the birdsong, which helped me a lot, because I had a crazy need to always know whether it was morning, evening or night… I created rituals that I did every day at roughly the same time. That confirmed my desire to have order in things. The first food delivery was absolutely fabulous, firstly because I was relieved it really worked the way you’d said, and secondly because the food was excellent. I’ve never enjoyed food as much as I did that week in the cabin. Saturday and Sunday I more or less slept and exercised through, and all in all it went by quickly. By Monday I was so settled into my activities that I was completely at ease, it was just dark… The only thing that really didn’t work for me was meditation. I’d never have believed how forcefully thoughts can push themselves to the front in the dark. I didn’t resist them, they were mine, I wanted to open myself up to them. Never before, even in the deepest meditation, had I been so at peace. Essentially it was a kind of meditative state, I just didn’t realise it at the time. I enjoyed the feeling that no thought could disturb that calm. On Monday I also had vivid dreams for the first time; they went on all week and I still have them today. It fascinated me that I could finish the dream even when awake, because no visual stimulus interrupted it. You wake up and see nothing, so you just carry on, simply brilliant :). My first crisis came on Tuesday, in the morning I think, because it was before the meal. Suddenly I was gripped by an incredible fear that I was alone with everything, and I cried for the first time. I realised that I have these states in normal life too, so I gathered all my strength and told myself I was going to deal with it. I’d brought along various objects I’ve been given by different friends and members of my family, and at that moment they helped me enormously. I’m not alone, they’re all here with me. I took each one in my hand in turn and remembered how happy I am to have them. The crisis was suddenly gone… And so for the rest of the retreat I created another ritual. And I still use it today, when it’s needed :). Several times I felt so beautiful and clear that I simply sat and enjoyed it. I enjoyed the food, did yoga for hours and hours every day, did strength exercises as far as was possible, and devoted myself to myself the way I probably should in the dark. Then came Thursday afternoon, and once again an uninvited guest entered my cabin. Fear. This time it showed itself physically too, because I couldn’t eat or even walk properly. I felt as if I’d been run over, there and back. Thoughts in my head like: how am I going to get through the whole of Friday here, it’s beyond me, it’s a whole day still. I can’t do it… It lasted a few hours and was really unpleasant, almost unbearable. I breathed, told myself all sorts of positive things, come on, you’re enjoying this, you feel good here, and so on, but nothing helped. Only sleep helped; luckily I fell asleep. After waking up I stared into the darkness for a long time (haha, what else) and thought about that state. I realised how relative time is, how pointless it is to think about it and try to control it. I had five days behind me and a day and a half ahead, and I was afraid of that. But you’ve already managed so much, I told myself. The human mind really is laughable at times, making things this hard for itself right before the finish line… I had to laugh at myself. I was glad I’d realised it. You can then work better with such parasitic thoughts. Friday was great, I was elated and looking forward to the world out there.
On Saturday morning the alarm clock woke us before sunrise. I climbed out to where it was still “dark”, but you could see everything. My head was spinning; luckily you’d warned me about that, Lenka. It was such a strange feeling, indescribable. I can’t put into words how strange I felt. There were three of us who’d just left the cabins and we were full to the brim; we were all like babies leaving their mother’s womb… That’s how I felt. The sunrise was magnificent, spring was everywhere. Beautiful. I was still absorbing it for several days afterwards and couldn’t talk about it much. I wanted to keep those feelings just for myself, at least for a while. The dark retreat opened my eyes. I discovered how much I love life. How relative time is, and that when I’m sitting in the car in a traffic jam somewhere, it isn’t wasted time, it’s simply the life I’m living. When I’m at home just lazing about, I don’t reproach myself, I enjoy it, I don’t see it as wasted time. When it snows in May, it’s something I can’t change, so I laugh at it. Snow in May, so what, snow is beautiful after all. I get rained on and don’t run for cover, I just get wet and then dry off again. I have a good meal and don’t worry about calories, because I enjoy running so much… I don’t regret a single second of the retreat and I thank you both very much for the opportunity. It was wonderful.
Take care and keep laughing 🙂
Martina
