I’ve spent the last 9 months trying to get through a list of 40 items that I created this year…for fun. I mean, when I look at this list, a lot of items aren’t necessarily “fun.” They’re definitely challenging and out of my comfort zone, but I’m now no longer convinced that “fun” is the appropriate term.

I think the term “challenging” is more fitting.

I do know that I thrive in challenges. I’m addicted to the adrenaline and stress and the need to feel like something has been accomplished. So, when an opportunity to do a silent retreat came up, I didn’t think of it as a challenge. I thought of it as an opportunity for rest. Well, that’s what I told myself anyway.

Let’s go back a few items first, the build-up items. The fun items.

In August, I enrolled a couple of my besties to join in on an Artsy workshop where we enjoyed the relaxing atmosphere of listening to good music, drinking chocolate, and painting whatever the hands and mind wanted. It was done without engaging with one another, so by the end of it, there was a different level of bonding; bonding through experience rather than sharing through words. I had painted a boat in the middle of the calm ocean at night, floating towards a fire storm; a representation of all sides of human states and the need to accept them both. The painting now sits in a room, as a reminder of this acceptance of duality that sits within us.

The following week saw another 10km completed, but not even halfway to what I wanted to do for the year. I guess starting from zero to a hundred with no in-between does set one up for disappointment. It was a run my city run; lots of downhills, so it made one feel fast and fit. Inspired to carry on with the momentum of doing another 10km two weeks later, I signed up, paid for it, and..I missed that run out of laziness. I’m sure I made up a believable reason then though so, let’s move on.

Concerned by the lack of energy or enthusiasm to do anything other than scroll through social media or to do work (yes, that’s correct), I started researching on different types of hormones and brain things (I have a serious concern about not using my brain effectively or efficiently) and decided to read up on dopamine. To be completely honest, it’s also because it’s the new fad term on all the instagram reels I watch. I found and read an extremely short (less than 100 pages) book called “Dopamine Detox.” At first, I couldn’t understand why the book was so short (I bought it online, not in store), but I understood the irony afterward. The attention span for anything longer is probably non-existent if you are worried about your dopamine levels and reaching out for that kind of book.

Did it help? Yes. I was an A+ student (I’m not normally, usually happy to be average and slide under radars, but this was about my brain usage, so I was taking it seriously). I completed all the workbook content, diligently filled out and committed to items, and now I successfully fall asleep with my phone in another room, and I wake up to an old-school original beeping alarm clock. Not looking at my phone last thing at night, and first thing in the morning is something so underrated yet so effective. It helped me complete a 30-day challenge of journalling a full page every day and meditating every morning. There are no more mental debates of first “checking emails or insta” in the mornings. They’ve become a get up and “might as well do what I’m meant to” kind of morning, and this has made an exponential difference to me being present during the rest of the day. I’m not saying easier or calmer, but I’m definitely more present and aware.

The silent retreat was, therefore, perfect timing. It meant I could fulfill one of the commitments from that book, of a 48-hour detox of no phone and no work. It also meant I could tick off 3 items from my list-of-40-items in one go. The “go on a retreat” item, the “be completely offline and alone for 24 hours” item, and the “solo weekend” item. Yay!

I had been on a 3 day silent retreat before, seven years ago, and lived through it. How different would 4 full days be then? I believed very little difference. At that stage, it was giving “rest” vibes. No talking, not too much listening, and very few people to avoid, so what better way to rest than this? Wowza. I was wrong. The first day and half was a breeze. Loving all of it. Nature, solo walks, cool breezes, and complete silence. We were encouraged not to read books but rather journal and sit with your thoughts and anything else that came up. Doing around 5 hours silent, loving kindness meditation every day, solo reflections, and nature walks was pure bliss. To me anyway. As my brother told me after my last 3 day silent retreat, “If you want to challenge yourself, you need to do an all-day talking retreat, not a silent one. That’s too easy for you. “

But this wasn’t 3 days. It was 4. 4 full days. 4 days, seven years after the first one. Seven years of becoming and unbecoming. Seven years of learning who I am, of letting go of many fears, admitting to many more, and years of becoming more attached to life as a whole.

It was then that my ego got scared, very scared, and I spent the next day and a half convincing myself that I could make it through. How funny – I was trying to make it through an experience I had paid for, to rest and reset, to get through this “challenge.” Once I calmed down and accepted that I had done this to myself, I had a good laugh. My ego finally went to sleep and allowed me to enjoy the last day of silence. I had crossed the my-ego-messing-with-my-psyche line, and now the idea of coming out of silence was daunting. Luckily, I had given myself a few additional days of being at home to adjust and appreciate the present.

Now, to try to fit this into my every day? Shoo, this thought stressed me out as I tried to figure out the “when” moments. And there are not many other than me waking up before the crack of dawn to get some quiet time before the day and everyone else begins.

Thus far, giving myself this gift of silence and solo-ness has given me an entire gift of gratitude. Something has shifted, and even though I can not quite put my finger on it just yet, I can feel it. Something fundamental in me, and right now, it just pours out and defines itself as gratitude. This “fun” activity felt more like a stuck-in-the-mud game where the only one that could get me through it was me.