I had been signed up for a dark retreat for more than six months. I had been thinking about this experience for several years, but as so often happens, the teacher appears only when the student is ready.
A dark retreat in the eastern sanctuary
The decision was made and all that remained was to find a date. The eastern cabin appealed to me, so I looked for the date of my stay partly according to this “desire”.
Several weeks before the retreat I mentioned my plan to a few friends. And the more I talked about it, the more questions came my way that tempted me into some kind of expectation – “Why am I going?” “What will I do there?” “Aren’t I afraid of being alone, of the silence, of the dark?” I didn’t want to let any of that in or think about it, so I stopped talking about it much with anyone. Still, in the last week before the retreat there was a bit of nervousness – I’d say about the journey itself and the unknown.
The journey to Lomec was really interesting J. I set off by train from Brno and had almost 4 hours of travelling ahead of me. When I bought my ticket to Bykáň, the lady at the counter told me with a smile that she’d had no idea such a stop existed, and she’d been working for Czech Railways for 17 years J. “Great,” I thought… I’m off to forgotten lands… it was already tempting. It was also interesting when, one after another, three people joined “my” compartment and after a while discovered (or rather, only when the conductor came round) that they’d boarded the wrong train. What was I to make of that… well, of course it occurred to me to wonder whether I too was “heading in the wrong direction” – meant in a slightly more spiritual sense, though.
Otherwise the train journey went by quickly and I managed to read a book (The Sun Sets in the East) that a friend had given me… also about a journey of this kind, as it happens.
I didn’t go on the dark retreat alone 🙂
In Kolín I changed to the little local train to Bykáň. When that stop was announced as the next one, one of the passengers shot off towards the doors even though the station was still nowhere in sight. The first thing that came to mind was that this was my “fellow darkness-dweller” (I’d coined a new word 🙂 and I too headed for the doors. When we got off, that passenger walked ahead of me and I was already opening my mouth with the question on my lips, “You’re not by any chance going to Lomec for the dark too?” I didn’t even get to say it, because at that moment he turned round and asked whether I was going to Lomec too J. We laughed about it and set off together on a lovely walk.
The walk passed very pleasantly thanks to chatting, admiring the scenery, a bit of wandering off course, sharing our feelings about the unknown and so on. Before the destination we sat down for a while and waited for the “third darkness-dweller”. He arrived shortly… we knew it was him… he was driving around the village lost, and we found it amusing. Already here my intuition had started working at full speed. I always prepare everything in advance – the route I’ll take and so on. This time I hadn’t been very thorough and I wasn’t nervous about it at all. I knew I didn’t need to know the way – that passenger knew it – and I also knew we still had to wait for the “third one” J.
After the welcome and settling in, I called my loved ones, and the last thing I saw outside was the sunset. I put off switching the light off a little, had the dinner I’d brought from home, arranged my things so I’d know where everything was, and then, with slight uncertainty, I switched it off.
I had with me my favourite stones, coloured pencils, a notepad and other “friends” who showed me light when the darkness was too deep. Every day I wrote down my feelings, experiences and ideas, drew, and so on. To this day it serves me as a view, an insight, feedback, a record of the moments when I was “within myself”… and somewhere I can return to at any time J.
We were told that people usually sleep through the first days. I was looking forward to that. Hmm… that expectation wasn’t met. I didn’t sleep properly all week. Although I normally sleep soundly and without any trouble, fall asleep within moments and don’t wake in the night, here everything was turned on its head. Strangely, though, I wasn’t tired.
It was interesting that not only did I need little sleep, but my feelings of hunger were also minimised. I ate twice a day and often didn’t even finish the meal provided. It dawned on me that it’s my eyes that are hungry, not my body. And I still see that now, a month later, when I often eat without really needing to. I simply see it and get the urge for it. So for me it holds true: what the eyes don’t see, the stomach doesn’t crave J.
The days flew by very quickly. Many times I went so far in my meditations that on returning to “reality” I felt as if I’d spent an endlessly long time “somewhere”.
I learned to observe my thoughts more, to perceive my needs and listen to them, and to reach my inner self. Darkness and quiet support this, and even today, when I want to “feel into” myself more, I seek out quiet and darkness or close my eyes.
I think my intuition has also become finer and I’m more confident in its voice when it has something to tell me. I noticed it even in such trivial things as “finding” an object in the dark. When I wanted to pick something up, I knew exactly where it was without searching. I also knew when Lenka would come and when Tomáš would, and I even knew what Lenka was going to ask.
A few times it happened that I invited fear and unpleasant thoughts into my cabin. But I wasn’t yet ready to get to know them more closely, so I kicked them out of the door fairly easily. Perhaps you could say that the dark is also there for me to get to know these “characters”. For me, though, the more important realisation was that I can observe my thoughts and also kick them out of my head when I don’t want them, or overcome fear with positive thoughts and by “bringing myself into the present”.
The last night of the dark retreat
On the last night I couldn’t wait to breathe in fresh air. I was welcomed by our furry friend Charlie, who kept guard by our cabins day and night (for which I thank him very much), and also by one fellow darkness-dweller (the passenger). I felt wonderful… I was so happy and at the same time so proud that I’d done it J. The explosion of energy can’t even be described. I felt utterly alive and euphoric.
For me, the dark retreat was, all in all, a discovery of more of my own possibilities and an awakening of intuition. I know I can manage to be alone (with) myself, overcome the fear of the unknown, enjoy the calm and be here and now.
Now, a month later, I can say that the dark retreat was a kind of springboard, a gateway beyond which things are suddenly… different… I know that nothing is permanent… everything changes… some of it by itself, by its nature, some of it by will and wanting, by the desire for a better, happier and more balanced life J
Maybe I’ll set off on a journey into the dark again, to get to know my fears more closely… and maybe not… perhaps I just won’t let them into my life any more…
For the chance to share, for the insights, the visits and the great food, I thank Tom and Lenka
Pavla
