Here you can read about the experiences of people who have been on a dark retreat. Please bear in mind that feelings and the course of a stay in the dark are individual, and that other people’s experiences may plant expectations in you.
I’m happy to write a few lines, but 2 nights weren’t exactly packed with experiences 🙂
I went into the dark for three reasons
I wanted to find out what it’s like, to have a rest and to see if I could do it. Unfortunately I didn’t have much time or holiday from work, so I chose a weekend stay. I know that darkness and solitude affect everyone differently. I was pretty confident. I can keep myself entertained brilliantly on my own, but in the dark?
Sleeping and waking
On Friday Tom welcomed me warmly and explained how the retreat works. The first night I slept beautifully and the next day was much the same. When I was awake, everything in the dark flowed with an interesting touch of ease and calm. In absolute darkness your eyes don’t adjust, so there was nothing else to do but feel my way around the inside of the place and pace it out without thinking, which was fun. The stay narrowed down to stretches of sleeping and waking that alternated throughout the day. When I was awake I did stretching exercises, ate lightly, drank tea and water, had a shower once a day and thought. I was cleansing myself.
I savoured the food
Because I wasn’t moving much, I didn’t get hungry either. I only ate a little, but on the other hand I really savoured Lenka’s excellent food in the dark. The next night, carried along by my subconscious, I slept right through again. The following day went like the one before, and then Lenka was already knocking to tell me the retreat was over.
Two nights are not enough
Today I know that 2 nights are great for a rest and a partial cleanse. But you don’t get to the heart of a dark retreat – the phase of proper wakefulness, which comes roughly after three days. I’m already looking forward to my next retreat, which I’ll definitely plan for a whole week.
Great place, great people, great food. I recommend it 🙂
I went on a dark retreat knowing full well that I had no idea why I was doing it 🙂 I was there for three nights and it was intense!
It was a big garden with four cabins in it. Everything was quiet. I felt as if all my senses had already sharpened. As if my body knew what I was about to do. I started to feel nervous and excited. I could hear myself in my head: “What the hell are you doing here? Why are you doing this?”
Tomáš took me to my cabin and showed me inside. It was a lovely little cabin. Bigger than I had imagined, very cosy and warm. It had a shower, a toilet, a washbasin with a cupboard and a small room with a made-up bed, a sleeping mat and a meditation cushion. Tomáš gave me all the instructions I needed for the stay, wished me luck and strength, and left. It was up to me when I turned the light off. I felt curious and tense. I unpacked all my things along the wall so I could get to them easily. I switched off my phone. I changed, turned up the heating on the air conditioning, took a deep breath and turned off the light.
The darkness was total
I had never experienced darkness like that before. For a while I stood completely still, my hand still on the switch, marvelling at that complete darkness. Then I started feeling my way around. I made it to the bed, sat down on it and began to enjoy the darkness. I felt safe and light. I could feel the presence of the darkness. As if it were black velvet and I had sunk into it completely. I heard birds outside. Only faintly, because the cabin had fifty-centimetre-thick soundproofed walls. I lay down on the bed and enjoyed the peace, the solitude and doing nothing at all. I fell asleep within moments.
I lost all sense of time
I don’t know how long it was before I woke up. I realised I was completely losing track of time. How long had I slept? What time was it? Was it still daytime or the middle of the night? I found that not having a clue what time it was was something completely new and strange for me.
I decided to sleep a bit longer. I think I slept the whole day through. At some point Tomáš brought me food. He asked through the closed door whether I wanted to know what it was. I told him I’d try to work it out myself. After he left, I realised how nice it had been to hear a human voice.
Spaghetti in the dark
I started with the soup. It was delicious and easy to eat. The main course was a different story. I took a spoon, dug it into the food, put it in my mouth, but the spoon was empty. I realised I was holding it upside down. I turned it over and dug in again. Again I felt there was something on the spoon, popped it into my mouth, and again nothing. I couldn’t resist and stuck a finger in the food. It was spaghetti 🙂 I groped my way to a fork and ate in peace. Eating in the dark was quite something. I couldn’t recognise a lot of the flavours and could only guess what they might be. And I have no doubt I must have looked like a little piggy. After eating I had a wash and went back to bed. I felt really good. I fell asleep.
Everything in the dark
I woke up and heard birds. I told myself it must be morning. I went to brush my teeth and that’s where I had an “aha” moment. How do you put toothpaste on a toothbrush without getting it everywhere? I laughed at how I was meeting everyday things in such an unusual situation. Then I wanted to try a bit of exercise. What a laugh it was when I couldn’t hold a single yoga balance pose. In that absolute darkness it just wasn’t possible. I fell over every time. I stuck to ordinary stretching. Then came the shower, which was more intense than ever before. I felt the water much more, the drops and its temperature. I really enjoyed it.
There was nowhere to hide from my thoughts
I went back to bed, but I didn’t feel like sleeping any more. I was full of energy. Then came the thing people probably go into the dark for. The thoughts in my head wouldn’t stop, there was no way to escape them. In everyday life, in the light, I always find something to do. I go for a walk or just go and wash the dishes, scratch the cats, water the plants, anything, but here that wasn’t possible. Closing or opening my eyes didn’t help, the darkness was always the same and everywhere. I was forced to stay alone with my own head. I’m sure all of you can at least partly imagine that hopelessness 🙂
I was sleeping less now and spending more time alone with myself. Time began to pass very slowly. And in the moments when I was awake, I didn’t feel good. I used breathing and meditation. I started to feel scared in the dark and I was looking forward to Tomáš bringing my next meal. When he did, I talked to him for a little while and felt so much better. He also brought me an alarm clock for the next day, set for sunrise. I did some exercise, had a shower and a wonderful meal. I even laughed out loud, because I suddenly felt so lovely. I danced around the cabin and had fun. I heard Tomáš talking to my neighbour in the next cabin. Suddenly it was as if there were no fears and no thoughts, and I was enjoying that beautiful velvety darkness again.
In a few hours I’ll be free
I went back to bed. Sleep was out of the question by now. And out of nowhere it hit me that in just a few hours (although I had no idea how many) I would be free, I would be back in the light. And that’s when purgatory began. Precisely because I knew the end was coming, I wanted it to come all the more. I didn’t know how to keep myself busy, how to make the time go faster. I panicked. I knew I could turn the light on at any time, but my ego and my fear wouldn’t let me.
I sat on the bed, which had been my refuge from the very beginning. I literally crawled under the duvet to feel safe. My fears began to take shape. I was paralysed by myself. I couldn’t move. It was only the force of my anger that got me out of bed and to the toilet. I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to have a nightmare, wake up from it and be in the dark. I didn’t know whether the nightmare had ended or was still going on. I desperately wanted to fall asleep, but I couldn’t. Time dragged on unbelievably slowly. I listened carefully, but I couldn’t hear anything any more except aeroplanes. My panic and fear kept rising and my body went stiff. I don’t know by what miracle I managed to fall asleep.
I saw so much light…
I was woken by the sound of the alarm clock and I switched it off so quickly that once again I didn’t know whether it was a dream or not. Whether the alarm had really gone off. I couldn’t look at it to see what time it was. I decided I hadn’t dreamt it, that it was time. I got dressed, had a wash and opened the door.
My whole world spun, up was down. I sat down on the porch and stared at the “light”. It was half past five in the morning and by normal standards it was pitch dark, but I saw so much light. I sat on the porch and waited for the sunrise. Little by little everything began to take on colour. The sky grew brighter, the colours deeper. After an hour I packed up and said goodbye to the cabin. I set off on foot and longed to walk for as long as I could. I called my husband to ask if he could pick me up somewhere other than we’d agreed, so I could be alone out there for a while, out there in the light!
On the way home I savoured the beauty all around me
What I felt on that walk can’t be put into words. It was a feeling of enormous happiness, love and humility towards myself. I grew fifty metres taller. I felt I could do anything. I laughed at the colours outside and stopped every fifth step to savour the beauty around me. I skipped and ran. Everything seemed unbelievable and yet so full. I was like a playful child. It dawned on me what I had done, what I had managed, what I had been through.
I met my fears
In the dark I found a big part of myself and felt it. I met myself in a way I never wanted to. I met my fears. I know I shouldn’t avoid them any more, but accept them, because they are mine and they belong to me. Be with them and live through them. Just as I live through love, joy or anger.
Some people recommend a dark retreat the way I recommend walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. For now, speaking for myself, I wouldn’t do it again, but I’m very grateful for the experience 🙂
thank you for the reminder, I’m happy to write about my experience of the dark retreat.
The darkness was kind to me. It was a beautiful and wise teacher to me, and sometimes a lover too. It taught me to perceive the world with my heart and to listen carefully to what others want to tell me.
I chose the north sanctuary
It was a bit of a coincidence, because no other sanctuary was free on those dates, but the universe wanted me to spend my week in the dark in this sanctuary. From a shamanic point of view, the north is concerned with the mind of the heart, and I needed to look at the world through my heart and not just through my mind, which sometimes played games with me and tried to lead me astray from the path towards my sacred dream.
Food was my point of reference
I wasn’t afraid of the dark retreat. When I arrived, Tomáš explained everything to me; while the light was still on I went round the cabin, got my bearings, had a trial run at moving around, took note of where everything was and turned out the light. An important point of reference was food. Tomáš told me the time window for deliveries, so I had at least a rough idea of the time, give or take 4 hours. As I’m a systematic person, I could plan my whole day around that.
The darkness helped me focus
I exercised, meditated, rested and ate. There’s nothing else you can do in the dark, but it’s enough to fulfil the intention with which I went into the dark. I wanted to find out whether the path I had set out on was the right one, that I wasn’t chasing some mirage. I knew I had to disconnect my brain and look at it through my heart. In the light I couldn’t do that; too many distractions came along and kept me from focusing.
The darkness taught me to perceive through my heart
Today I can say that the darkness helped me with that. It taught me to perceive through my heart, and at first by a very drastic method. On day 2 I had a relentless headache and my heart was beating faster than usual. For emergencies I had some “red” pills that had always helped me before, but now they did nothing at all. “What do I do in a situation like this,” I intuitively sensed that I had to sit down and breathe deeply. Breathe through my heart. I breathed for a long time (in + out = 15 s), counted to 100 (30 minutes), breathed deeply, focused on my heart, and suddenly the relentless headache melted away and my heart calmed down. Well, that was wonderful. I began every meditation with this breathing; it helped me relax and look deeper into my heart. Whenever my brain, the rascal, tried to sneak a stray thought into my inner world, I was able to stop it, wrap the thought up, throw it in the bin and carry on meditating. I also went through an incredible cleanse – I spent maybe a third of the whole retreat on the loo.
The longest day of the whole retreat
When the second-to-last day came, Tomáš came a little earlier, because the evening before he had become a dad again and was hurrying to Lenka at the maternity ward. He brought an alarm clock set for 4 in the morning. I can say that was the longest stretch of the whole retreat for me. I couldn’t wait for morning, so I cheated a bit by lighting up the clock face in the night. It showed 02:00. The next two hours were fine. At four I woke up, sat down in front of the cabin, and together with a young fellow participant from the next cabin we slowly went off to watch the sunrise.
We saw an amazing sight.
A gorgeous Sun rose over Kutná Hora, and on the western side the sky was a metallic grey with an amazing rainbow shining through it. For that moment the world became colourful, and it still is today. I now know that a black-and-white view of the world is no longer for me. I then spent the whole day my own way. In the morning I swam in the pond, walked through the beautiful countryside, treated myself to an amazing massage and headed home to my wonderful, beautiful wife and my beautiful, marvellous daughters.
Radka, my wife, told me my eyes had completely cleared, and a month after the retreat she says I’m a different Zdeněk, too. I feel that way too, and my heart helps me with it.
Thank you, Tomáš and Lenka, for your care; you were both empathetic and knew how to listen. Lenka, thank you for convincing me that I needed to be patient and listen to the darkness. It was a surprise for me when, three days before the end, you brought me food and simply shut yourself in with me and chatted with me. It was probably just before your baby was born (sorry, I don’t remember whether it was a daughter or a son). The day before, I had wished that a woman would talk with me for a while, and I had wished for ginger tea. The universe granted everything to the letter. You talked with me and also brought a little pot of ginger tea.
It’s a year since I did a week-long dark retreat. I don’t actually know whether I’ve managed to process everything it brought yet. Even after everything I’d read before going into the dark and the solitude, I only had a hazy idea of how it would go. The reality was miles away from all the descriptions and all my expectations anyway.
Why did I decide to go into the dark?
I wanted to “have a word” with my illness and understand where it came from and what it was hiding. What was I worried about? I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat, so the darkness was a challenge in itself. And then, how would I fill all that time? Today those worries seem funny to me.
The biggest “horror” was meeting my inner demons, my fears and a deep inner pain. And I only peeked into some of the mysterious chambers. We have some kind of filter or valve inside us that won’t let us go beyond what we can bear. Even so, I was on the verge of breaking down. I could barely find the strength. And I had no idea that the worst was still to come…
How did it go?
The first three days were pretty much fine. My mind managed to “think them away”. But towards the end of the third day, feelings started pressing in and my body willingly amplified them with physical symptoms. Neither exercise nor meditation helped. I had never cried so many tears, never felt such dread of the future, such fear of death, the pain of loss and of expected loss, fear of dying, a sense of futility and nothingness.
But I have to give myself credit: it never crossed my mind to end the retreat early. Quite a pleasant discovery, because my habit had always been to run away.
What was coming back into the light like?
The worst experience of the whole retreat. I’d been looking forward to the end, thinking that with the first rays of sunshine I’d find solid ground under my feet again. But instead something came that knocked me to rock bottom: ” Dear God, what do I actually want in this world? What am I going to do with myself in it?” That was a blow!
I went into the dark to heal, and came out with the realisation that I don’t actually know why or how to live, and the insight that I’m more afraid of life than of death. It was so horrifying that on the way home I even imagined (I was just afraid to admit it) dying in a car accident. I just didn’t want anything to happen to my dad, who was driving me.
So how am I a year on?
It’s hard to say whether I’m still kidding myself about something, but even though the illness is still here, I’m able to live. The fear hasn’t gone away and I know it will always be here. Just like the feelings of futility, nothingness and regret. But their opposites are here too. I’m still afraid of death, of dying, of loss, of pain and of life, but I’m living and I’m enjoying it. I haven’t got rid of my inner limitations completely yet, but there are far fewer of them. Sometimes I feel that everything is pointless, that I do everything wrong, but something always comes along to show me it’s not that bad. Life still puts obstacles in my way, but I don’t fall apart over them so much any more; quite often I even have the courage and strength to face them. I saw myself and found that who I am doesn’t depend on education, gender or my current state of health, but on my attitude to myself and to life. I still have a lot of work to do here. And I want to do the work, and my greatest wish is to see it through.
To you both, Tomáš and Lenka, thank you for everything, and I wish you every success.
I’d like to share with you my experiences, impressions and feelings from my dark retreat with Léňa and Tom.
I’d probably start by saying that I tried not to expect anything from it, just to live through it, the whole lot. A little cautious and wary, I chose only a three-day retreat, and then at the last alarm I reacted a bit sadly: “Whaaat? Alreaaady? “ and I admit that on the one hand I was proud of myself for managing it and that I could now go home with my head held high 😀 , but on the other I would happily have stayed a few more days. But everything happened the way it was meant to. I was incredibly charged up, and actually I still am. Everything in my life has shifted in the right direction.
It started a bit dramatically….
After a thorough exploration of the terrain I took a deep breath and switched off the light. Of course, for the first half hour or so it was quite strange as you get used to the darkness. I snuggled down into my den and left everything to the darkness 🙂 . Within half an hour a brutal thunderstorm broke, and I’d swear the thunder struck somewhere near the cabin, because the whole thing shook. That night I dreamt that someone was pulling me by the hands out of the cabin. Great, that too…
My head just wouldn’t switch off…
I woke up with a start, my things totally soaked in sweat, and made sure I was still where I had been last time 😀 . Still, I didn’t let myself get carried away (not even literally), I sort of dozed on and off, enjoyed the food Léňa brought me, tried to meditate, but my head just wouldn’t switch off… So many thoughts…
In the end I never managed to get into meditation at all, only into some kind of visualisations I created for myself to detach from something and let it go.
Crystals
I’d taken 5 crystals with me as talismans for various cleansing rituals, and then I found there were suddenly 6 of them. Feeling around, I discovered that one had simply snapped in half 😀 . I won’t lie, it threw me a bit, because if a stone snaps, that must be one hell of an energy, I tell myself “hmmm, so be it, I suppose it’s meant to be”.
I lost all sense of time
The rest of the retreat was practically just sleeping, eating, trying to meditate and find inner calm, and stretching.
I naively thought I had a sense of time, but in the end I found I was out by 3/4 of a day 😀 . On the last day Léňa brought me food and the alarm clock, I had my portion, fell asleep and brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…“What, so I’m going home already?” I thought.
How did I feel after the dark retreat?
That weekend I felt unbelievably rested, full of energy, I even decided I was looking good 😀 . Overall, “things” in my life moved forward, I found calm within myself and realised that next time I’ll be able to open even those “heavy doors” too, and I’ll go for it again, because it’s an immensely – even cosmically – cleansing process of self-discovery.
All in all, it was too short for me. I’ll definitely do the retreat again. I’d like to say a big thank you to Léňa and Tom for making it possible and for their care, I’m looking forward
Hi Lenka and Tomáš,
I’ve told myself several times now that I must write to you and share my impressions. Originally I wanted to write straight after I got home, but that felt too coloured by the wonderful impressions of the moment, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to be “objective”. So I wanted to wait until it had all ripened in me, so I could describe everything
with a bit more distance. After a month – with more perspective, then – I can say with a calm heart that my wonderful impressions of my “dark stay” haven’t faded; on the contrary, they’ve settled in me and keep growing stronger…
So here it is.
How did I come to a dark retreat in the first place?
Gradually. The first time I heard that a person would voluntarily
let themselves be shut away in the dark was about two years ago, when an acquaintance who had been through it told me about it – she was thrilled, although she also described how demanding the whole thing was. I found it interesting, so I read the book Tvarytmy by Jaroslav Dušek and started looking things up online. At the time I kept coming across providers who didn’t appeal to me much, whether because of their focus, the way they came across, or their overall philosophy. With hindsight I know that was as it should be, because I wasn’t yet “properly ripe” for a retreat of my own.
It won’t be a classic holiday
This year, though, my time came, and “chance” would have it that on Monday 9 January I discovered Lenka and Tomáš’s website, which appealed to me with its openness, and I simply knew that instead of Bulgaria, this year I’d be going into the dark, and precisely here. It might look as though I decided impulsively, because just a few days later I’d chosen a date and paid the deposit, but to me it was completely natural and automatic and I didn’t hesitate at all. And no doubts came later either – in the whole five months before the retreat was due to start, I didn’t regret it for a second. I knew it wouldn’t be a classic holiday in the usual sense of
the word, but another valuable little stone in the mosaic of my personal growth.
I need to get moving
I felt the right time had come and I was rock-solid certain that the dark would bring me what I needed – to get moving… I had the feeling that for quite a long time, in several areas, I’d been treading water and going round in a circle I couldn’t (and, out of my own comfort, didn’t even want to) step out of, afraid to do one thing just so I wouldn’t lose another… You could also say I expected the dark
to bring me an epiphany.
I prepared carefully
I approached the planned retreat really responsibly – not only did I read lots of participants’ experiences (most of them only after I’d already paid the deposit and knew that whatever was waiting there, I wanted to go through with it), I also bought a notebook. Yes, it may be
amusing, but I’m the note-taking type, and I wanted to write down in advance all the thoughts that would occur to me, to write out my fears and worries, expectations, interesting observations I’d been soaking up around me, thoughts from books I happened to be reading, and so on.
And then it came…
I think the reason I felt fine in the dark at the start of the retreat was precisely that I knew I’d prepared adequately, that I’d put many thoughts down on paper, and that I’d prepared for possible problems or weak spots too. On the other hand, I had no great expectations in the sense that after the dark everything would change and be bathed in sunshine.
I had my feet on the ground and went into it with my mind as open as possible, that is, without expectations that might limit it in any way. I knew that nobody
would pester me on the phone and that I’d be alone with myself and open to everything that happened, that I’d try to humbly accept all the symbols and parables sent to me from above.
One click was all it took
So D-Day arrived. It was the evening of the third of June and I found myself in my northern cabin. I’d chosen the northern one by feel, because “I know the way and I won’t change course, I’ll reach the river full of fish way up north” and in general I prefer cold to heat.
After sorting out the formalities with Tomáš, I wrote my last
notes in my notebook while it was still light, showered in cold water (not voluntarily – the boiler hadn’t heated up yet, so I cooled down right at the start, and I took it as a rather funny first challenge), felt my way around the rooms and switched off the light… It was strange. One click was all it took and we were left alone in the cabin – me and the pitch
dark.
I kept notes…
As I’ve already written, I’m the note-taking type, so I wrote down my observations in the dark too. To make it legible, I had a firm hardboard strip that I moved down instead of lines. And surprisingly, it really is all legible, or at least you can work it out. Besides writing down my feelings, perceptions and reflections, I also drew. I had drawing crayons with me, which, whenever I felt the inner need, I pulled at random from the bag and used to draw
abstract motifs expressing my feelings of the moment… I was curious what it would look like in the light, and I was really surprised that the colours I’d chosen (completely at random, of course – in the dark there’s no other way) mostly captured the theme (feeling) of the picture perfectly…
A sample of notes written in the darkThe first picture back in the lightBefore the last meal in the darkČechy krásné, Čechy mé (Bohemia fair, Bohemia mine)…Jednou budem dál (We shall overcome)…Before the first meal in the dark
No sense of time
I was surprised that I had no problem at all finding my way around the space, but after the first time I fell asleep I completely lost any sense of time. I don’t know whether I slept three hours or ten, but I didn’t care. I listened to my body and didn’t worry about what I couldn’t influence. Although I’m quite a planning sort of person,
suddenly I couldn’t plan anything at all, and it didn’t even bother me, which surprised me a great deal.
Everyday activities in the dark
The only fixed point of the day – though just as flexible in time – was the meal, which Lenka or Tomáš brought me once a day. The portions were really big, so I split them up and ate smaller amounts more often. Given that the dark was my companion 24 hours a day, it was interesting to do everyday
activities entirely in the dark – eating something without knowing what it was, for example, I enjoyed enormously (I wouldn’t let them tell me what was coming, I just enjoyed it).
The only funny thing about finding my way around was that until about the fifth day I kept avoiding the exercise bike, which of course wasn’t in the room at all. Yes, I take even this as a sign that I shouldn’t keep avoiding exercise and movement so much 🙂 .
I was processing emotions
For three days I had a headache, stomach ache and pancreas pain, which corresponds exactly to the emotions I hadn’t processed at the time – the feeling of regret, constant brooding and so on – at least that’s what Eastern medicine says, and yes, I have to admit, I’d been worrying my head about all sorts of things and plenty had been sitting heavily on my stomach. It was nothing terrible, it was bearable, and I put it down precisely to a psychosomatic cleansing, which made sense.
My back also hurt on and off, which I attributed not only to psychosomatic “healing” but also to the soft mattress and lying down for so long. But even this wasn’t insoluble for me – I had a small
over ball with me, which I used to stretch my back on the mat, and I also exercised with it to fill the time.
I was clearing negative energy in myself
Besides that, I also kept repeating the Ho ́oponopono mantra “I love you – I’m sorry – Please forgive me – Thank you…” and although I’d never much believed in it, it really did calm me, bring me into the present and reconcile me with myself and my path in life. With this mantra I’m still trying to keep up the process of clearing negative energy in myself, mistaken thoughts, paradigms, patterns of thinking and so on.
What I found interesting
I won’t go into too much detail about the specific images that appeared to me, because other people couldn’t understand their meaning anyway; I’ll mention instead some interesting things (interesting to me, at least). In the first days I tried to call up specific situations – I wanted, say, to think about someone
in particular and reflect on them, but my brain simply wouldn’t let me. I don’t know how that’s possible, I can’t explain it, but I suppose it wanted to put a stop sign in front of any forced thinking and open the way to accepting what comes by itself. So I let it be and waited.
The darkness was exactly the sameLater on I could consciously imagine or dream up things, but only with my eyes closed, much like in everyday life when you close your eyes during the day and imagine what it would be like if… As soon as I opened my eyes, the image vanished or faded completely, even though the darkness was exactly the same with my eyes open or closed. Conversely, when I had a perception from above (that’s what I call everything that came to me by itself, without my asking for it or imagining it), it came with my eyes open, or grew stronger or clearer when I opened my eyes. I found that very interesting.
What I “saw” with my eyes closed
So when I lost track of what I had consciously imagined myself (often castles in the air and dreamed-up fantasies) and what had come to me by itself (symbols, signs), opening or closing my eyes and the change in the intensity of the image was a good indicator. It sounds unbelievable and illogical, but that’s how it is… After all, the subconscious and the unconscious don’t ask about logic.
I have the feeling that at the start I slept more and at the same time had more perceptions of various kinds, from crazy, through tender, to touching.
On the fifth day came a change
I started to be bothered by persistent perceptions of light – as if car headlights were shining at me. They appeared with my eyes closed and open,
flashing, glaring, pestering me at various intervals. They surely had their meaning, which I didn’t uncover, but either way this was the most unpleasant part of the retreat. I don’t know whether these headlights caused it, but from then on fewer perceptions came to me overall, and at the same time I didn’t feel like sleeping as much, so I tossed and turned more, closed my eyes in case I fell asleep, but again the bright light would wake me.
What would it be like to switch the light on?
I believe that even waiting for the next interesting perception had its meaning – it was meant to train me in patience and to tone down impatience of every kind, because when something came after this longer stretch of “idling”, it was worth it. It simply paid to wait for it. I must admit that it was precisely in these moments that thoughts came to me about what it would be like to switch the light on, what would happen, how it would disrupt the retreat and so on. It really did stay at the level of thoughts, because I realised that with my impatience I’d deprive myself of further experiences.
No “skeletons in the cupboard”, but family…
I’d expected to cry a lot as skeletons were uncovered in my cupboards, and I was curious whether something would be revealed to me that I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone at all… Luckily that fear didn’t come true. Tears overcame me three times, and always over something I can’t change, something that’s a given (my mum’s illness, a meeting with my grandmother, who’s been dead 22 years, the situation around my dad connected with his unwillingness to do anything about himself).
I never cried at perceptions concerning the situation around me myself, my
current situation, scenes from the past (though they weren’t always realistic or real, but often harshly symbolic) or visions of the future (apparently I’ll write a book and so on…).
Songs kept coming back to me
Snatches of songs of every kind often came to me spontaneously – from Travička zelená, through Veď mě dál, cesto má (the Czech Country Roads) and Čechy krásné, Čechy mé, to Zlaté střevíčky (which, incidentally, is a song I really don’t like) and Jednou budem dál (the Czech We Shall Overcome, which for a change is one of my very favourites) – that one, in fact, visited me most often during the retreat.
I was looking forward to leaving the dark for the wind
As I’ve already said, I spent the whole week essentially in calm and with all humility. Just as humbly as I’d looked forward to the dark, I looked forward to coming out of it. The looking forward came on about the sixth day, when the “idling” continued, and at the same time what I began to look forward to most was not the light but the wind – or rather moving air as such. That, in fact – apart from the possibility of sharing my feelings with my nearest and dearest straight away –
was what I missed most.
I waited for the moment to come
On the sixth day, along with the last meal, Lenka brought me an alarm clock with instructions on what to do when it rang at three in the morning. I was impatient, but paradoxically I slept well and woke up – I estimate – an hour before the alarm. I got dressed and, trembling all over, waited for it to ring (I still
didn’t check the time – the alarm clock was in the next room, and the glow of the display would have done more harm than good anyway). When it rang, I quickly opened the cabin as instructed and sat down in the doorway.
The image I saw was utterly indescribable
Between the trees the golden colour of the sky shone through. A radiant gold, the kind used in Gothic paintings to depict the “plane beyond time”… Something unbelievable. The world was spinning around me; it really did make sense to sit, or hold on to the door frame, and look slowly around the landscape.
At first, when I moved my head, my brain wasn’t able to show the picture continuously – it came in jerky scenes, as if a film had got stuck. After about half an hour I was “here and now” again and could set off along the path to the place where the sun rises. There was dew, a light breeze was blowing, clouds were chasing across the sky, and so the sun
couldn’t show itself to us in all its glory. As if it wanted to tell me “I’m not meant to be the highlight of your stay; you came for what is invisible to the eye and what you carry away inside you...”
I found resolve
I stayed in that spot for almost an hour and just drank it in. I was infinitely happy, cleansed, reconciled, settled, and at the same time resolute… I went for a walk along the little path as far as a majestic-looking tree. When I reached it, I found that it wasn’t one big tree but a “tree family” which – when it holds together – looks from a distance like a majestic tree that nobody can overcome…
I saw in that another fixed point of my life – to have people around me whose presence means that not just anything can knock me down….
I was happy for what I have
After returning to the little cabin I waited for my lift, so I had plenty of time to listen to the sounds of nature – the croaking of frogs, the wind in the treetops, birdsong and all manner of chirping, to gaze into the greenery and at colours more colourful than a person usually perceives. I was pleasantly moved and happy for what I have…
I looked through my notes
I set about looking through my “dark” drawings and reading through my notes. It struck me that some of them I didn’t remember at all, but when I read about them, they came back to me, including the feelings I’d had while seeing them. In places I really had to laugh at what non-sense it was… And it immediately occurred to me
what a beautiful language Czech is, that I don’t have to take “non-sense” only as meaning silliness, but also as something that isn’t governed by the senses but lies beyond them…
What message does it carry?
A feeling like that ran through my whole stay, in fact – when my outer sight was taken away for a while, it was exchanged for an inner sight, which at other times I hadn’t had
so many chances to give myself over to. I didn’t tell myself that silly things were appearing to me, though it might have seemed that way to someone, but I tried to uncover what that illogicality might be hinting at, what it could mean, what message it carried.
Apparently I’d completely lit up and calmed down
As soon as I got home I shared my impressions with my nearest and dearest, who had supported me in my decision to do this retreat, even if not all of them understood it. My mum, for instance, told me I looked lovely, even though I was wearing the same thing I’d worn umpteen times before. Apparently I’d completely lit up and calmed
down. She wasn’t the only one who told me that in the first week after the dark. So maybe there’s something in it 🙂
And how would I sum up my retreat overall, a month and a bit later? I still feel harmonised and inwardly calm, simply above it all.
Why did I do a dark retreat?
I know the future is in my own hands and that I needed to make the journey into the depths of my soul precisely so as to be inwardly stronger and so as to accept myself and the people and situations around me, and be able to step forward towards better todays and tomorrows, because there’s no point dissecting yesterdays. During this reflection an observation from a book came aptly to mind – what you keep scratching won’t heal… And that’s what I’m trying to live by at the moment, and I don’t scratch more than necessary…
And what did it take from me?
Doubts, fears, the tension of other people’s unfulfilled expectations, the need to have everything planned down to the last detail and the stress that goes with it. In other words, it took nothing from me that I wouldn’t gladly have got rid of myself 🙂 .
I must say that during the whole week I didn’t actually experience a single hard moment, no panic, so much so that I’m a little surprised at it myself… At irregular intervals I look into my notes, not only to remind myself of all the beautiful things that happened to me during the week, but also to discover further messages in them and perhaps uncover further symbols. I’m convinced that everything has its time and nothing should be rushed…
In conclusion…
I’m sorry, I know my confession may be too long and too broadly conceived, but I wanted to set out all the connections linked to my retreat.
I thank Lenka and Tomáš for making this transformation of mine possible (it’s hard to put into words, but I simply feel different inside) and I firmly believe that within a year and
a day… Or simply some other time, we’ll see each other again.
the dark retreat was an amazing experience for me! Looking back, I have to say it was beautiful, even though at times it was very demanding. I’m only writing now because I wanted to find out what the long-term results would be. And what results they are!
I’m now much calmer, more level-headed and I don’t make a big deal out of everything. I enjoy the moment “here and now“, and I don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring (within reason, of course). A smiling sun is now shining on my path and I’m quite simply enjoying it 🙂 .
As for the problems I discovered in the darkness, it’s good to know about them. A lot of things became clear to me because of it and it will certainly be good for me in the future too.
I found out that I love myself just the way I am – and that I’m different every day, I’m not afraid to change my opinions often and I want to be open to everyone and to everything, which sometimes hurts. Even so, I love myself and I love being here and learning again and again.
Everyone I know shakes their head at my dark retreat, but I don’t care. I even understand them – you have to be mentally prepared for the darkness in a certain way. For me it was a priceless experience and adventure. All the more so with your care. As I already told Tomáš, that beautiful little house is like a womb, and the little person inside is like a tiny baby, protected from all the problems and worries of the outside world.
So they can calmly work through whatever they need to. And two wonderful “gods”, as Jaroslav Dušek puts it, take care of them there. It was amazing,.. once again a big thank you, and maybe see you again one day.
God, how time flies. It seems like only yesterday that I made one of the best decisions of my life: deciding to come to you and try a dark retreat. I have to say that of all the dark retreats on offer, you and your approach to it were the closest to my heart.
How I came to it
But how did it all start? I learnt about darkness therapy, how else, through my “inspirer” Jaroslav Dušek, who had been talking about it publicly for a long time and had even written a book about it. It fascinated me, but after a while it faded from my mind. Then the darkness announced itself in my head on its own, when out of nowhere I simply felt the urge to do it. And it wasn’t long before I was packing my rucksack for the journey.
It all began with the train arriving in Bykáň, and since the weather was beautiful, I decided to walk those few kilometres through the countryside, so I would have time to take it all in and enjoy the excitement before my stay in the cabin. So I took off my shoes and, being an incorrigible barefooter, I decided to walk the way barefoot. As I was admiring the countryside, a nice young lad joined me who, as it happened, was going the same way as me – on a dark retreat too. The walk went very quickly and before we knew it we were approaching the gate of the house where we were to spend the coming days.
I have to say the setting completely blew me away: a beautiful little house by the woods, nature and peace all around. This is more or less how I had always imagined I wanted to live. Nearby, 4 small cabins waiting for their new guests. After a while of looking around, Tomáš came and showed us where we would be staying and went through the rules with us.
There was nothing, only darkness.
I have to say I didn’t much feel like going inside yet, so I wandered around the cabin a little longer, enjoying the beauty of the surroundings. Towards evening I plucked up my courage, shut the cabin and switched off the light. I didn’t make a big fuss about it; I simply switched it off and waited to see what would happen. There was nothing, only darkness. Pitch-black darkness spreading everywhere. I started to enjoy it.
I felt the freedom of simply being
The first thing that came to me was the thought that I had gone right back to the beginning; this is probably what it looked like at the start of everything. With that thought came the idea of stripping naked. Even though I had a change of clothes ready, this option seemed far more fitting and appropriate: not to be restricted by anyone or anything, not even by something as ordinary as clothing. All at once I felt the freedom and liberty of being, of being naked in the middle of nothing, where you see nothing, hear nothing and no one sees you. It was such a liberating feeling. In the end I stayed naked for the whole of my retreat. The temperature in the cabin could be adjusted, so it was very comfortable in there.
I savoured the present moment, no past, no future, just here and now. That was what I needed. Not to be limited by time or by space. My head wasn’t fussing over stupid things the way it normally does. Only I remained. I was in that state for hours, perhaps, who knows. My first discovery was that I must be mentally perfectly fine, because no waves of despair or feelings of anxiety came over me, no panic or stress or feelings of claustrophobia. No fears, blocks or negative thought patterns rose to the surface. I felt nothing of the kind. Rather the opposite.
I felt safe
I experienced the darkness as something very pleasant, like a friend in whose embrace I felt very good and safe. Strangely enough, here in the dark, alone and far from home, I felt safe. I could do what I wanted, be whatever I wanted in that moment, simply be myself. That feeling of safety and calm was irreplaceable.
It was more intense
After a while I fell asleep; I have no idea for how long. No one disturbed me, so I didn’t know whether it was day or night. And I didn’t care. To be honest, that suited me perfectly. When I woke up I could feel that my brain had already switched over to smell and touch mode, because I was sensing everything far more intensely. The touch of my hands was more intense, the taste of an apple was stronger; everything was simply somehow different, more real.
What did rather surprise me, though, was that now, more than ever, I wanted someone beside me, someone I could hug and caress in that darkness, just like that in the middle of the dark, where you feel only touch and are unaware of things around you and simply surrender to that feeling of merging. Well, I had to push that out of my head very quickly, otherwise I would probably have gone mad. Even though Orlando Bloom was in the room with me too, printed on the bedding, it called for something a bit more physical.
I let myself drift with the moment
Then I fell asleep again; I think I did nothing but sleep for the first few days. In the days that followed my eyes adjusted to the dark, so I stopped bumping my forehead into the walls and started to find my way around the space fairly well. During the day I often meditated, since it came to me very easily, and I also tried to draw out of myself answers to the questions that had been troubling me lately, but somehow they didn’t come. So I let it be and once again let myself drift with the moment.
What was that supposed to mean?
I don’t even know which day it was when I started telling myself that this was probably it, that I wasn’t going to experience anything else. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, staring into space. Within a few moments, though, something began to happen: I started to perceive my hands as if they had become transparent, even though I couldn’t physically see them; the walls began to change, I saw them coming closer and moving away again, they even changed shape and texture. At that point I thought I was starting to go mad. But what came next completely floored me.
I saw, perfectly clearly, images being projected onto the wall. The first image was of a woman with long white hair in a dark blue robe, with a headband in her hair bearing the symbol of a snake. I knew she was some kind of priestess. I don’t know who she was, or whether it was one of my past lives, who knows. Right after that a tiger appeared on the wall, in living form, as if hiding in tall grass, and I saw it baring its teeth at me, and beside it a leopard, just lying there calmly, watching. I saw this scene as vividly as if I were sitting in a cinema looking at the screen.
It took me a long time to absorb it, and to this day I am still trying in vain to work out what it was supposed to mean. What also kept happening was that in that darkness I saw light, a pale green light coming as if from a single point. But whenever I tried to look in that direction, it vanished at once. I knew it was nonsense, that there was no real basis for there to be any light anywhere here. But it was there. It was my brain playing games with me. So my brain and I played a game of who would outlast whom, right up until the end of my retreat, which flew by very quickly.
Returning to the light of the world
On the last day I had the alarm set for 3 in the morning, before dawn began, so that my eyes could get used to the light slowly. This phase was the funniest for me. I can say I had never been drunk while sober before 😀 My motor skills didn’t work at all and I was staggering around like a drunk. When I stepped out of the cabin everything was moving around me and I collapsed straight into the grass. If anyone had been watching me from outside at that moment, they would surely have thought I had at least four times the legal limit inside me. But then it settled down and I felt calm, content and rested.
The whole time there I felt wonderful. Freed from the prison of body, time and space. It was an experience I will never forget as long as I live. In that darkness I met myself and received the gift of self-worth. I stopped comparing my life with other people’s and began to value what I had achieved myself, on both a physical and a mental level. A gift like that is a blessing. I can now see what I couldn’t see before: how exceptional I am.
In that darkness I discovered my light.
And for that, dear Lenka and Tomáš, I will never be able to thank you enough.
My dark retreat took place at the turn of May and June. It began pleasantly with a long sleep and surprisingly vivid, colourful dreams. They stayed with me throughout the retreat. When I woke up I could recall them very clearly, and I thought each of them would make for an interesting analysis…
What am I going to do here all week on my own?
After I first woke up, when I opened my eyes and realised I was here in the dark, anxiety came over me at the thought of what I would do here all week on my own.… and it’s so lovely outside… After a while I got used to the darkness, and a feeling came of surrendering to a situation that I had chosen myself, after all, and for the first 3 days I slept and dreamed a looot. Accept the situation and take it one little step at a time. Don’t torment yourself with thoughts about the future.
I took a shaman drum, a Tibetan singing bowl, a stone, paper and crayons with me into the dark.
But the darkness wasn’t dark at all…
After the first days of sleeping I thought I’d grown into the bed. I didn’t even want to get up to go to the loo. When the bed stopped being comfortable, I lay down on a mat on the floor and simply gazed into the darkness. But the darkness wasn’t dark at all; situations from my past and present life played out in front of my eyes. Childhood experiences stored deep down came back to me. I could watch it all like a film. Some brought emotions of joy, some of sadness, some just drifted past neutrally. They brought with them a greater understanding of myself and my life.
In the dark I saw shapes
What gradually drew me more and more out of my mind were the lights, and sometimes shapes, that appeared to me in the dark. The one that kept coming back most was a mosaic in the shape of the flower of life, shot through with colours.
Light phenomena were with me all the time, and they grew more intense as time went on. I perceived light coming from my body in the chest area and around my head. I started joking about it and telling myself that the lights were gradually coming on. 🙂 As if someone had switched on a dim little light above my head or at the sides.
I perceived…
From the 3rd-4th day I started doing sun salutations, tai chi and other exercises in the mornings and evenings. Then I meditated and played the drum and the bowl. It was beautiful to perceive the tones so undisturbed and so fully.
All the senses except sight (which could take a rest) seemed to wake up in the dark.
I managed to deepen my meditation, with what was for me a significant realisation about the importance of opening the heart. The strength hidden in it is healing, both for me and for those near and far. I should never forget that in life, and I should support and develop that healing strength.
The moment finally came!
On the last night before the wake-up call I didn’t sleep much any more, and I was excitedly looking forward to the door opening and walking outside. The moment finally came and I went to watch the sunrise 🙂 . The birds were giving a beautiful concert, and I could enjoy the fresh air and the changing colours until daybreak and a bright summer day.
If I had to describe it in one word, it would be… gratitude.
I signed up for a dark retreat almost a year ago. It had tempted me from the moment I first heard about dark retreats, but it took me a while to find the courage to sign up for one. When I came across this website, which caught my attention with how detailed and warm-hearted it was, I read a few accounts from people who had done a retreat and decided to go for it. Throughout the year I still had quite a few worries about how I would cope there – not so much with the darkness as with being shut away for a week in a small cabin, alone with my thoughts (I’m the kind of person who is always taking in information, learning, reading something, etc., or doing something). I thought about bringing a musical instrument or something else to keep me occupied.
The year flew by and I grew a lot. I had decided to start doing the things I was afraid of and to listen to my intuition. So I overcame a few fears, expanded my awareness and calmed down a great deal. By the time the retreat came, I had no worries left. I took only clothes and toiletries and went into it knowing I would manage and that it would be an interesting experience.
In the dark I switched off the light for a while
I settled in and tried switching off the light for a moment. It had never even occurred to me how dark it would be in there. It frightened me a little. I remembered that as a little girl I had been scared of darkness that deep. Then I remembered my favourite quote: “Darkness is simply the absence of light.” That calmed me down quite a bit. For a while I walked around the cabin in the dark with my phone in my hand until I felt sure of myself, then I ate, washed and switched off the light for good.
From the start of the retreat I lay in bed or on a sleeping mat and watched the flow of my thoughts. They were the same as usual (at my current stage of development :)), no emotions or anything negative came up. I fell asleep with the air conditioning on, got a bit of a chill and ended up with a urinary tract infection. I turned the heating on, drank a lot, and by the afternoon I was fine. The pain from the infection came back a few times in the mornings, because the room always cooled down a little overnight when I had the heating off, and I also felt pressure because I couldn’t manage a bowel movement during the dark retreat. Normally, when I have an infection, I keep myself busy so I don’t focus on the pain, so it was interesting to deal with it using nothing but my mind.
In the dark I saw light
On the first day of the retreat, out of nowhere, I started to feel a pulsing white light inside my head, mainly to the left of my forehead and in the middle of it. It’s hard to describe – it was as if I could see it and feel it, it was flowing through me. At first it scared me, I found it hard to breathe and I was shaking. Then I started to accept it and observe it. The same way as with the pain from the infection. The light came back to me several times a day. I spent whole days enjoying watching the flow of my thoughts and the visits of the light, and in between I just ate and slept. I was also surprised by how the smell of my body changed – right after the first evening I smelled like something between honey, fruit and milk. The scent was so strong that Lenka asked me what smelled so nice in there 😀 Lenka and Tomáš’s visits and the food were nice, but they pulled me out of my focus a little. Next time I’ll probably go into the dark without guides and without food.
On the last day of the retreat I couldn’t wait to get outside and start the new direction in life that I had been sorting out in my thoughts. The dark retreat confirmed to me that I’m on the right path.
The sounds from outside helped me in the dark
Every day I kept track of time by the sounds of the birds and the chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs in the evening. I delighted in the sounds of something I couldn’t see all week, I thought about the beauty outside, about how much I love light and nature. So coming back into the light was absolutely magical. I got up early in the morning and spent a few hours watching the sunrise and walking through the woods nearby. It was beautiful to be able to see again.
I definitely recommend a dark retreat to everyone. Wherever you are heading, overcoming your fears and stepping out of your comfort zone will move you forward and help you find your strength 🙂
Best wishes,
Marie
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