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.
With respect and warm regards, Katka, Prague.
