Dear Queenagers,
I hope you have been loving the sunshine. For me, the good weather has been particularly sweet as I’ve just spent 5 days on a silent retreat in Devon. The April sunshine definitely augmented the hours I spent lying looking at blue sky and effervescent tree blossoms, and swimming in the green-blue river as the sun rose over the woods and hills. It was like bathing in light and hope, despite the chilly breeze.
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This is the third entirely silent retreat I’ve been on in the last couple of years.It would be fair to say that the very idea was horrific to me 5 years ago. The first time I took myself off for some silence – as I write about in my book Much More to Come – my siblings were running bets on how long I would last.
Those of you who have met me or heard me talk know: I’m a chatterbox. An extrovert who thrives on connection and people, sharing ideas and conversation. So a week of silence isn’t the most obvious fit….
Yet – weird I know – I now find that I crave the deep peace of 7 hours of yoga and meditation a day that such a retreat provides. It’s a real luxury to be able to do this. I look forward to unplugging from my phone, email, social media, news, demands, people … to have no responsibility for anyone except for myself.
How a personal MOT opens new roads
Indeed, spending time with myself – really getting to grips with what’s going on inside my heart, mind and body – has become an annual essential. Those days of silence are my personal MOT.
I might even go so far as to say it is 5 days to scrub away at my spirit and soul. I find that not speaking or telling any stories; no small talk, no chat of any kind, is the most profound (re)treat I can give myself.
I wanted to tell you about it because I’m coming to see that our Queenager “age of becoming” isn’t only about new paths but also exploring our own roads less travelled. By embracing something that would have once been anathema – silence, meditation and hours of yoga – I’ve discovered such richness in new ways of being that I never thought possible.
Let me explain.
Have you ever been mellow?
I grew up in a family of committed atheists. My dad is a Richard Dawkins proselytiser; any whiff of spirituality is suspicious hokum to him. My mum went to a convent but the experience left her determined not to impose any religion on her kids. (My mum and stepfather were both Freudian analysts, so psychoanalysis became a different kind of family religion!)
My education was rigorous: Cogito ergo sum. I think therefore I am. Logic. Taking apart ideas. Analysing language. And then for 30 years as a journalist and editor I sifted, interpreted and organised information, a role that required high levels of fact-based rigour, cynicism and rat-like cunning.
The first time I went to a silent meditation retreat – outside, surrounded by sheep and trees – I felt like a naughty teenager. I kept trying to find others to eye-roll at, to wordlessly say, “This is crackers, right?”
Slowly I’ve sloughed off that cynicism and found, in its place, peace and stillness. Who knew that “quiet Eleanor” is mellow? That the highlight of my week would be a 30-minute meditation anchored to the dawn birdsong where I managed not to move or fidget once. That my brain, which I used to boast whirled at a million miles a minute and belonged to “the most impatient woman in the world”, now loves to be subsumed into heart. That my aim now is to become “headless”; beyond thought; my mind not jumping forward or turning backwards; happy to be entirely in the moment. Still. Present.
Could you do without phone, radio, books?
People often look both baffled and terrified when I tell them about this experience. I understand. The first time, I was so frightened of all that time with only my thoughts, I almost bailed.
The very suggestion of downing all devices, eschewing even books and radio can seem extreme. In our culture, we frequently flee discomfort and instead fill every waking moment with distraction (from snippets on social media that we tell ourselves are “educational” or “relaxing”, to TV, podcasts, self-imposed home or beauty standards, not-entirely-necessary work tasks, overall busy-ness). But I have found this experience delivers total reset.
The companionship of others also choosing quiet and meditation is immensely warm and surprisingly revealing as well. A hug, the touch of a hand, a shared smile or giggle. Friends made without words. We know who we cathect, without speaking.
I never thought I could hold this pose
How I began to respond differently to myself
On this retreat, we also learned to work muscles hard and then completely relax them: rather than existing in a permanent state of stress – flight/fight/freeze. (I never knew I could do dragon pose.) We learn to breathe deeply, to feel the gift of the diaphragm expanding and the air rushing in and then the spaciousness the breath leaves as we exhale. We find a deeper rhythm.
Most of all we learn to greet ourselves with what my teacher describes as “kindness and curiousity”; to stop the voice of that inner tyrant that drives us ever on and finds us ever lacking. We can create a beat of space, learning to talk to ourselves as we would a beloved child, a moment when we can choose how we react rather than jumping straight in from hurt or anger or fear.
“Listen to the gift of reactivity” the teacher says; when you find yourself triggered, pause for a second and comfort the part of you which is hurt, or frightened and angry and then choose what to say or do. Don’t jump straight in, because of fear, fury or pain.
The silence allows us some time to think larger thoughts.
For me one of the biggest insights of the week was that the Buddha said hate, delusion and greed are the greatest human evils.
I’m afraid I broke my silence at one point (are you surprised?) to pipe up that “that sounded VERY 2025”. Luckily the opposites of those qualities are love, truth and trust – qualities that create connection. I truly believe we can’t fix any of the big, dark stuff swirling around us without first taking some time to work on ourselves.
Doing something you thought you couldn’t
After 5 days, I was reluctant to come home. For the first time in my life I could see the appeal of being a nun.
I’ve done all sorts of wacky things over the last few years – psilocybin, constellations, soundbaths, ice baths, breathwork, Vim Hoff – but silent yoga and meditation in a beautiful place is the most powerful tool of personal transformation. It leaves us “ungloved” – like we’ve removed the barriers between us and the world – and can feel it all again.
How we harness silence on NOON retreats
We spend some time calling in the silence during our one-day retreat in Wasing (18 July). There are moments during our yoga practice, with only the teacher’s voice to guide us. Some women take the walk from the yoga pavilion to the swimming pond through the woods in silence. Even the Circle allows time to just listen to ourselves.
There is opportunity to go deeper at our Signature NOON Retreat in Wales October 6 – 10, with moments of quiet both individually and together, doing yoga, enjoying the sound bath, on the walks and in the rolling countryside of the farmstead where we’re staying.
Make some space for silence at home
Reaping the benefits of silence is also something you can try at home, in a park, in the garden, with a friend, anywhere you please.
- Try and just do one thing at once: It’s tempting as a busy Queenager to multi-task, make calls while driving, do a social post while sitting in bed, answer an email as you make supper. I’ve been guilty of all of this to the nth degree. One thing I like to do to begin to slow down is to drive. Listen to the radio. The bus or train are also excellent places to do this. Be where you are. Another favourite: Making supper by simply focussing on the tasks, enjoying the slicing of the carrots, listening to the sizzle of food in the pan and just being where you are.
- Try and find 20 minutes a day where you just sit with your thoughts – and breathe: Sit on your bed and close your eyes and just tune into your breathing…take a deep breath in and breathe out with a sigh. You could anchor your attention to the sounds you hear – listening to the birds, a lawn mower, whatever is arising. If your mind wanders off, simply bring it back to the sounds. Remember that the remembering and coming back IS the practice.
- Speak to yourself tenderly: Ask yourself in a gentle voice, like one you would use with a pet or a beloved, “How are you really feeling?” And listen to what comes up without cutting it off before it even has a chance to whisper to you….
- Go for a walk in the sunshine: Look at the cherry blossom, sit on a bench in the park and look at the sky, watch the leaves blowing in the wind. Try and clear your mind, breathe in an out deeply and just BE.
- Sit on your sofa and stare at the wall: This might seem a little challenging but it’s a way to have a bit of quiet to yourself. Engage in some ‘boringness’. Just be and do nothing
- Do a mini-digital detox: Put down your phone at 6.30pm and don’t look at it till after breakfast the next day. Try and do this a few nights a week.
Give it a go and let me know what YOU call in.
We’d love to feature a short audio or video clip of your thoughts about the experience. Tag us on Instagram or Facebook or email me your clips! (eleanor@noon.org.uk)
Love.
Eleanor
