I stop talking for five days. You won’t believe what happens next.

I stop talking for five days: a photograph of mist floating above a pond at the Vallecitos meditation retreat center

I do something I’ve never done before

Did you ever stop talking for five days? I did in August 2016, for the first time in my life.

I flew to New Mexico and drove four hours to Vallecitos, a remote ranch in the heart of the Carson National Forest.

For five days, forty of us lived in silence, meditating in the Vipassana tradition. No talking, no reading, no writing, no phone, no internet.

Before this experience, I had never been silent for even one day of my life.

What happened next?

A totally unexpected outcome was that I fundamentally changed how I eat. Mindfully eating in silence for five days allowed me to learn how much my body really wants to eat. It turned out to be a lot less than I’ve been eating most of my life.

When I was younger, I could eat anything and not put on weight. At thirty, something changed, and I gradually became overweight. Over the years I tried various approaches to eating less. Most of my efforts had a temporary effect, but they were essentially efforts of will—always a struggle—and I remained at least ten pounds overweight.

Now, three months later, I am at my lowest weight in thirty-five years. My Smart Body Mass Index is now in the normal range. And, to my surprise, this practice remains easy for me to continue.

What can we learn from my experience?

Experiential learning is the most powerful kind of learning! Five days of mindful eating reprogrammed my lifetime pattern of applying external strictures — eating certain foods, avoiding others, disciplining myself to wait until a set time to eat, etc. — to one where I eat from what Jan Chozen Bays, MD calls a sense of cellular hunger rather than other kinds of hunger such as eye, nose, mouth, stomach, mind, and heart.

Five days of experiencing what I mindfully wanted to eat trumped years of attempting to teach myself what and how to eat.

What else did I learn?

Prolonged sitting meditation — focusing on my breath for forty-five minutes many times each day — was a new experience for me. I became aware over and over again of the games my mind continually plays. Sometimes, I found my thoughts drifting to scenes from the past or imagined situations in the future; sometimes, I found myself in a blurred dreamlike state. Each time I noticed my mind straying, I brought my awareness back to my breath.

As you might imagine, it’s hard to do this, but the practice has fascinating benefits. Besides the mindful eating outcome, I feel more connected to my experience of the world, more able to flow with what happens, and more in touch with the suffering and impermanence in my life. The latter may seem an unlikely benefit, but seeing more clearly what exists (we all suffer, we all die) is transformative.

A lot of people think that meditation is about attaining a blissful state. That’s not the whole picture for me, though there were wonderful moments during my five days, especially while experiencing the beauty around me. Rather, being closer to what life is actually about — both the joy and the suffering — is what the retreat gave me.

In addition, the retreat reinforced my experience that we are the stories we tell ourselves — further deepened by the observation that we’re telling these stories to ourselves in our own minds all the time!

Did you ever stop talking for five days?

My retreat experience was fascinating, hard, and wonderful, and I now plan to participate in one or two retreats a year. I recommend the experience, even though yours will surely be different from mine.

Boredom is just a state of mind

boredom is just a state of mind: photograph of a bored woman sitting in a store. Photo attribution: Flickr user spyrospapaspyropoulos

1969

I am a nineteen-year-old college student, talking with friends in my 500-year-old room above the entrance to Merton College, Oxford. The world up to this point has been a fascinating place, full of interesting things to learn, and new experiences to have. But today, something feels different.

“I’m bored,” I announce.

Cathy, a first-year history student from St. Hilda’s, looks at me.

“I think boredom is just a state of mind,” she says.

And, immediately, I know she’s right.

2015

Eckhart Tolle, in his book Stillness Speaks, calls boredom the mind’s hunger. He points out that, typically, we escape from boredom by “picking up a magazine, making a phone call, switching on the TV, surfing the Web, going shopping,” etc.

I still feel bored from time to time. And sometimes, I’ll do what we mostly do: distract myself by “doing something” that primarily involves the thinking mind. But, thanks to that moment with Cathy back in 1969, I know I have other choices about how I respond.

Noticing

Sometimes, noticing my boredom is a trigger to remind me to embrace it, and become at ease with the state of “not knowing” what I “might” or “should” be doing. Eckhart suggests you:

“…stay bored and restless and observe what it feels like to be bored and restless. As you bring awareness to the feeling, there is suddenly some space and stillness around it, as it were. A little at first, but as the sense of inner space grows, the feeling of boredom will begin to diminish in intensity and significance. So even boredom can teach you who you are and who you are not.”

The body

Or, I can go into my body:

“Feel the energy of your inner body. Immediately mental noise slows down or ceases. Feel it in your hands, your feet, your abdomen, your chest. Feel the life that you are, the life that animates the body.

The body then becomes a doorway, so to speak, into a deeper sense of aliveness underneath the fluctuating emotions and underneath your thinking.”

Choosing activity

Or, if I want to “do something” I can choose an activity that embodies flow:

“Artistic creation, sports, dance, teaching, counseling—mastery in any field of endeavor implies that the thinking mind is either no longer involved at all or at least is taking second place. A power and intelligence greater than you and yet one with you in essence takes over. There is no decision-making process any more; spontaneous right action happens, and ‘you’ are not doing it. Mastery of life is the opposite of control. You become aligned with the greater consciousness. It acts, speaks, does the works.”

It is possible to discover and rediscover that a “bored person” is not who you are.

Boredom is just a state of mind.

Photo attribution: Flickr user spyrospapaspyropoulos