(seed planted — nov 2025)
“Nobody causes suffering for you. You cause the suffering for yourself by generating tensions in the mind. If you know how not to do that, it becomes easy to remain peaceful and happy in every situation.” — S.N Goenka
In October 2025 I decided to participate in my first 10-day Vipassana retreat as taught by S.N. Goenka. It was intense, emotional, painful, insightful and liberating all at once. In the end, I recommend this experience to all humans to discover their true nature and develop real wisdom. Below is a recount of my insights and general advice if you are being called to take a course. May all beings be happy.
My Introduction to Vipassana Meditation
The first I ever heard of Vipassana was during the 2020 pandemic, when I discovered "The Art of Living" by William Hart at my local thrift store. I was new to meditation, going through the dark night of the soul with no formal teacher. This book provided an intellectual framework for understanding the Buddha's teachings in a pragmatic way.
Fast forward to October 2025: I was traveling to Bali and ready to deepen my practice. After years of keeping the idea in the back of my mind, I applied to Dhamma Geha. I got accepted two days later, and spent the following months trying not to over-research the experience. In retrospect I'm glad I did, as you'll never be fully prepared for what lies ahead.
Day 0: Arriving to the Centre and Scheduling Logistics
Dhamma Geha is located about a 30 minute drive north of Ubud’s city centre, in a peaceful area neighbouring rice fields and local farmers. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful centre to have practiced for the 10 days. During breaks between sittings, the nature you encounter is lush and alive. Everyday I discovered new sights: banana trees, rubber trees, durian trees, wild mushrooms, tropical flora, coconut trees, and so much more.
The daily schedule remains relatively consistent throughout the 10 days, with the first morning gong sounding at 4AM. Men and women are separated in different living quarters, and there is a dress code that emphasizes loose fitting clothing covering the shoulders and legs. The centre provides two delicious and healthy vegetarian meals per day, freshly prepared by the kind local staff and volunteer servers.
Upon arriving, we turned in electronics and reading materials. After one last dinner with fellow meditators and an introductory discourse, we began 10 days of noble silence.
Days 1-10: Pain, Tears, Joy, and Equanimity
S.N. Goenka’s Teaching Method
S.N. Goenka, who passed away in 2013, was a Burmese-Indian teacher who learned Vipassana from his teacher Sayagyi U Ba Khin. What makes Goenka's approach distinctive is its emphasis on the technique as a non-sectarian, purely pragmatic tool for self-observation and liberation from suffering. Throughout the 10 days, you'll hear his voice every evening during the video discourses: a gentle, sometimes humorous presence that demystifies the ancient practice without diminishing its profundity.
Goenka's teaching style is methodical and patient. He doesn't ask for blind faith or philosophical agreement. Instead, he invites you to treat the practice as a scientific experiment where you are both the laboratory and the scientist. His discourses blend personal anecdotes, practical instruction, and core Buddhist teachings in a way that feels accessible regardless of your background or beliefs.
One of the most striking aspects of his method is the distinction he draws between intellectual wisdom and experiential wisdom. Historically I have always loved to analyze, theorize, and philosophize. But Goenka explicitly states that there is no room for that kind of intellectual exercise during the retreat. That type of accumulated knowledge can inadvertently bring even more suffering and carry its own potential perils. I had read about impermanence, about non-self, about the nature of suffering. I could discuss these concepts eloquently. But I hadn't truly understood them in my bones, in my body, through direct observation. This direct, experiential understanding is what Buddhism calls prajñā — the wisdom that comes not from books or discourse, but from seeing reality as it actually is, moment by moment.
This was perhaps the most challenging aspect of the retreat for me: learning to stop analyzing my experience and simply be with it.
Days 1-3: Anapana
The practice of anapana was the focus of the first three days, meaning mindfulness of the natural breath as it comes in and out. To develop right concentration on the small area around the entrance of the breath and observe the sensations is like sharpening the attentional knife of one's practice. Eventually, the breath itself and the area around the breath serve as an anchor to return to if the meditator is highly distracted by the mind, or is unable to observe sensations throughout the body.
My mind was in overdrive the first few days. Despite genuine effort, a few minutes into practice in the meditation hall, my mind would get distracted. However the nature of the mind is that our thoughts are always changing. Even if the mind is in a distracted state, we can have confidence this will not be the everlasting condition. We are able to experience this insight of the constantly changing nature of the mind along with all other sensations without a desire for the experience to be different than it is. Eventually, I was able to develop sensational awareness of the area around my nose, sensing a light buzzing feeling there.
Days 4-9: Vipassana
The practice of vipassana was taught on day 4. The technique itself is a concentrated body scan, where the meditator begins from the top of the head and patiently surveys every part of the body going down to the toes. As the days progressed, so did the depth and free flow of the technique.
On the afternoon the vipassana technique was introduced, we were instructed to not move from our seated position for two hours while practicing. In doing so, we formally take up the virtue of adhitthana, which translates to 'resolution' and signifies a firm mental determination toward one's goals, akin to an unyielding mountain.
The experience for me was brutal. I was completely resistant to what was happening in my body and mind, and began silently crying because of the pain. So much suffering arose from what felt like an uncontrollable reaction to the discomfort of the practice. In the later evening sitting that day, I found myself moving around constantly, becoming extremely frustrated and annoyed with the practice. I recall having strong feelings of wanting to pack up my bags and leave that night.
The aversion of my response reminded me of this passage from William Hart's book:
“How is one to live without suffering? By simply observing without reacting... If we can learn for one moment just to observe the physical pain; if even temporarily we can emerge from the illusion that it is our pain, that we feel pain; if we can examine the sensation objectively like a doctor examining someone else's pain, then we see that the pain itself is changing. It does not remain forever, every moment it changes, passes away, starts again, changes again. When we understand this by personal experience, we find that the pain can no longer overwhelm and control us."
— The Art of Living, Vipassana Meditation as Taught by S.N. Goenka by William Hart
With this being the peak of my overly reactive experience, the rest of my days gradually settled into a steadier rhythm. What helped this transition was not a sudden breakthrough, but rather the accumulation of small moments of equanimity. Each time I observed a sensation without immediately trying to change it, each time I watched pain arise and then shift or diminish without my intervention, I was building evidence for a new way of relating to experience.
The practice of sitting with strong determination, making it through a sitting as best I could without moving, became less about willpower and more about curiosity. I began to observe the sensations of the body and mind changing during every moment, and slowly but surely, I developed my equanimity. I formed no preference for the pleasant sensations of a free-flowing tingling throughout the body that would arise, nor for the pain or numbness that would be noticeable in my back and legs.
Sensation became neutralized through embodied equanimity: not due to platitudes or intellectualizing, but by the direct experience of anicca: every particle of the body, every process of the mind is in a state of constant flux. Arising and passing away. There is nothing that remains beyond a single moment, no hard core to which one can cling, nothing that one can call "I" or "mine." This "I" is really just a combination of processes that are always changing.
As meditation teacher Shinzen Young explains:
“When “you” (the surface self) notice the desirable effect of equanimity, your subconscious (which is where equanimity arises) also notices it. Thus, the deep mind gets trained away from the habit of resistance and into the habit of equanimity. This aspect of mindfulness training is actually a form of classical operant (or Skinnerian) conditioning. Continuous mindful awareness creates a feedback loop from which the primitive circuitry of the deep mind learns to perceive an immediate reward (less suffering and more fulfillment) associated with a certain behaviour (not interfering with the sensory experiences that they are producing).”
— Shinzen Young, The Five Ways to Know Yourself
Over time, around days 7 and 8 of sitting, I discovered that so much of my resistance, escapism, and fantasizing mind comes from a deep mental habit that is uncomfortable with the present moment as it is. Perhaps this discomfort stems from boredom and from a refusal to sit in deep acceptance of change. It is extremely subtle to notice how much of an addiction it is to either think into the future (fantasy) or roam to memories of the past (more fantasy). We are particularly rewarded for such mental functioning in order to make a living or to survive in modernity: planning, strategizing, remembering, projecting.
But what I began to see was that this constant mental time-travel is a form of suffering in itself. As Bhikkhu Bodhi writes in his essay "Anicca Vata Sankhara":
"The most important fact to understand about sankharas, as conditioned formations, is that they are all impermanent: 'Impermanent, alas, are formations.' They are impermanent not only in the sense that in their gross manifestations they will eventually come to an end, but even more pointedly because at the subtle, subliminal level they are constantly undergoing rise and fall, forever coming into being and then, in a split second, breaking up and perishing: 'Their very nature is to arise and vanish.' For this reason the Buddha declares that all sankharas are suffering—suffering, however, not because they are all actually painful and stressful, but because they are stamped with the mark of transience."
Day 10: Metta
On the final day, the practice of metta is introduced, or loving-kindness meditation. I am grateful that prior to this retreat, I had been practicing metta through the teachings of Rob Burbea, a British Dharma teacher whose work on concentration, the jhanas (meditative absorptions), and the flexibility of perception deeply influenced contemporary meditation practice before his death in 2020. His retreats and his book "Seeing That Frees" had all been foundational building blocks to being curious about how to develop the virtue of metta toward ourselves and toward all beings.
With many mindfulness practices, the breath becomes the object of our meditation. In metta, the experience of loving-kindness that we generate becomes the object of our meditation. In order to progressively add kindling to the fire of the metta arising, it is advised to bring to mind a mental image of something precious, such as a newborn child or a puppy, anything that evokes a sense of spontaneous, neutral love and care. With this feeling of metta, we begin to genuinely direct this warmth toward ourselves, usually with the following phrases: "May I be happy. May I be safe. May I be at ease.”
When the metta is strong toward oneself, we extend metta toward a kind friend. Feeling the genuine compassion and love toward this friend, we can extend metta toward a stranger or acquaintance. With strong enough metta, we can extend it toward those whom we find it challenging to love, and eventually toward all beings, human or not.
“There are two main goals in the spiritual life. One is to have a sense of complete freedom and fulfillment for oneself. The other is to be a source of love and good will to others. If you can experience negativity as energy, “recolor” that energy as love and good will, and let it spread out from you, then you will be simultaneously achieving those two goals. With practice, any person can learn to do this. That means any person can experience an extraordinary empowerment in their daily life.
At first you may only be able to do this with small negativities--minor irritations. Bear in mind the steps again. The negative circumstance gives rise to strong feelings. But the feelings come in waves. Focus on the waves. Then produce a positive feeling. And let the waves that formerly were negative feelings be colored by that positive feeling so that their energy spreads and magnifies the positive feeling. Let yourself become just a mass of positive feeling, a mass of loving energy. And carry that vibration with you throughout the entire interaction and throughout your entire day.”
— Shinzen Young, Spiritual Alchemy: Transmuting Negativity into Loving Kindness
The introduction of metta on the final day felt like a natural completion to the intensive work of the previous nine days. After learning to observe all sensations with equanimity — pleasant, unpleasant, and neutral, we were now learning to actively cultivate and radiate positive energy outward. It was a reminder that the point of all this practice is not just personal liberation, but the ability to live with greater compassion and less reactivity in the world.
Pragmatic Advice and Take-Aways
Beyond the profound psychological and spiritual insights, the retreat also offered some surprisingly practical benefits that have continued in my daily life.
Physical Awareness and Posture
One of the unexpected gifts of spending 10 hours a day sitting in meditation is that you become acutely aware of your body's alignment and habits. I noticed how I tend to collapse my chest and round my shoulders when I'm tired or stressed. During breaks, I began incorporating simple stretches, chest wall stretches to open the front body, gentle twists, and hip openers. If you're attending a retreat, I highly recommend bringing a yoga mat to your room so you can stretch during breaks. The sitting is demanding on the body, and these small practices of self-care make a significant difference.
I would also recommend experimenting with different meditation postures to find what feels most accessible for your body during long periods of sitting. This document provides a comprehensive overview of posture for meditation.
Since returning home, I've maintained a daily stretching practice that has noticeably improved my posture and reduced the chronic tension I used to carry in my neck and shoulders. The body scan practice itself continues to serve as a kind of biofeedback mechanism, alerting me when I'm holding stress in particular areas.
The Sacred Quality of Boredom
One of the most counter-cultural realizations from the retreat is how sacred boredom actually is. In our hyper-stimulated modern lives, we've lost the capacity to simply be with ourselves without distraction. The retreat forced me to confront the discomfort of boredom, and in doing so, I discovered that boredom is actually the doorway to deeper states of presence and creativity. When I'm no longer compulsively reaching for my phone or seeking the next bit of stimulation, there's space for something more subtle and nourishing to emerge.
Universality of Practice
It's worth emphasizing that Vipassana, as taught in these retreats, is entirely non-sectarian in nature. You don't need to be Buddhist, or even particularly spiritual, to benefit from this practice. The technique is presented as a tool for investigating the nature of your own mind and body, available to anyone willing to put in the effort.
Conclusion
If you are considering taking the course, I would simply advise you to be honest with yourself and ensure you are in a healthy mental space to undergo the experience. If you are currently grieving, have other major life stressors, or are suffering a particularly difficult episode of depression or anxiety, this 10-day experience may be more intense than it already is, and potentially emotionally disturbing.
Further, you cannot lean on the teachers or staff as trained psychological therapists or as an active support system. Their presence is mainly to support your learning of the meditation technique. In which case, I would wait until your circumstances are more stabilized, and you have the capacity and resilience to handle the physical, mental, and emotional demands of this course.
If those circumstances truthfully do not apply to you, do not hesitate and overthink the decision. You will deeply thank yourself for having done it and embarking on the journey.
This course has provided my meditation practice with purpose, with Dhamma, and with a path. I had historically felt my practice was rather aimless. Was I meditating to relax? To self-improve? To cosplay contemplation? Because I "knew it was good for me?" I've since emerged with a deeper felt sense of the why: I meditate to understand the nature of suffering and to cultivate the capacity to meet life's inevitable challenges with equanimity and compassion. I meditate not to escape life, but to be more fully alive to it. I meditate because I have directly experienced, in my body and mind, that it is possible to relate to pain and pleasure, gain and loss, praise and blame, with less reactivity and more wisdom.
I am grateful to have taken the time off to participate in this life-changing experience, and would be interested in doing it again in the future as a returning student. I will end this reflection with the following parting words of advice, as written by Ven. Henepola Gunaratana in his book “Mindfulness in Plain English”:
- Don't expect anything. Just sit back and see what happens. Treat the whole thing as an experiment. Let the meditation move along at its own speed and in its own direction. Let the meditation teach you what it wants you to learn.
- Be gentle with yourself. Be kind to yourself. You may not be perfect, but you are all you've got to work with. The process of becoming who you will be begins first with the total acceptance of who you are.
- Investigate yourself. Question everything. Take nothing for granted. Don't believe anything because it sounds wise and pious. See for yourself. That means you should be empirical. Subject all statements to the actual test of your experience and let the results be your guide to truth.
- Don't ponder. You don't need to figure everything out. Discursive thinking won't free you from the trap. In meditation, the mind is purified naturally by mindfulness, by wordless bare attention. All that is necessary is a clear, non-conceptual perception of what things are and how they work. That alone is sufficient to dissolve them. Don't think. See.
Thank you for reading and I wish your path is filled with loving kindness.
~~~
Resources mentioned:
- The Art of Living, Vipassana Meditation as Taught by S.N. Goenka by William Hart: cicp.org.kh
- Mindfulness in Plain English by Ven. Henepola Gunaratana: vipassana.com
- Rob Burbea, Seeing That Frees: dharmaseed.org
- Shinzen Young, Posture for Meditation: shinzen.org
- "Anicca Vata Sankhara" by Bhikkhu Bodhi: Access to Insight
- Shinzen Young, Spiritual Alchemy — Transmuting Negativity into Loving Kindness: shinzen.org