For my birthday this year, I decided to give myself something different. No parties, no fancy dinner, no getaway trip—just 10 days of silence in a Vipassana meditation retreat.
I didn’t expect it to be that hard, but it turned out to be one of the most challenging (and rewarding) things I’ve ever done.
How It All Started
I first heard about Vipassana during the pandemic. At that time, like many others, I was looking for healing. I signed up for a retreat in Bogor, West Java, but then came the government’s vaccination program. The rule was simple: you show up on the day and place they assign you, or you don’t know when you’ll get another chance. I had to cancel.
After that, I never managed to register again. Life happened. I went to Bali for healing, spent two months traveling—Banyuwangi, hiking Ijen, island hopping in Nusa Penida, Lembongan, Ceningan. Eventually, I looked for a job and (surprise!) landed one in Bali. Here I am, 3.5 years later.
Funny how life takes you places.
The Idea of Silence
Two years ago, a friend came to Bali for Vipassana (escaping winter in the Netherlands). Last year, my boss took the course and shared his experience. I thought, Okay, maybe my time will come soon too.
But each time I tried to register, it was either full or I couldn’t make the time. Until one day, in the second half of this year, I asked myself: What’s next? What do I really want to do in life?
The answer that came was simple: a silent retreat. No phone. No talking. Just me, myself, and silence.
So I set a reminder, and finally, I got in. The retreat would end exactly on my birthday. Perfect timing.
The Experience
Everyone’s experience is different. But one thing’s for sure—pain in the body is unavoidable.
For me, in the beginning, it was sinus headaches. By Day 4, my throat and shoulders hurt so badly. That was also the day we entered Vipassana proper. During group sittings, we had to practice adhitthana—strong determination. That means meditating without moving for the whole session. My right back was screaming in pain.
After one session, I asked the teacher about it. He said, “Good. Don’t focus on the pain. Even pain will pass. Anicca.” (And yes, funny enough, once the session ended, the pain disappeared).
But that night, I couldn’t sleep. My throat hurt, I took flu medicine, but with an empty stomach (we only had fruit at night). My heart raced, anxiety kicked in, and I lay awake. Then I told myself, this is just the mind being wild. If tomorrow I still feel bad, I can always go home. Simple.
Right after that, I fell asleep. The next morning, all the pain was gone. Just like that.
From then on, I learned not to instantly react, not to reach for medicine every time the body feels uncomfortable. To sit with it. To observe it. To understand: this too shall pass.
What Vipassana Really Taught Me
This meditation technique was discovered by Buddha Gotama—not as a religion, but as a way to understand and overcome suffering. He said our suffering is mostly created by our own minds, and there’s a way out.
The technique is simple, natural, universal. No matter what your religion or belief is, you can practice it. You’re not asked to believe blindly. In fact, the teaching encourages you to use wisdom, to test it yourself in practice.
Besides Vipassana, we were also taught Metta Bhavana—the practice of loving-kindness. Spreading compassion and goodwill to ourselves and all beings. That part touched me deeply.
Taking It Home
Now that I’m back, I’ll take the knowledge and experience into my daily life. The advice is simple:
Continue meditating 1 hour in the morning, 1 hour in the evening.
Practice sila (morality), samadhi (concentration), and panna (wisdom) in daily life.
I’ve seen and heard many stories of people changing for the better after Vipassana. I believe this is just the beginning for me too.
Would I recommend it? Yes. To anyone searching for something in life, or simply wanting to understand themselves better.
Thank you to everyone involved in this journey—those who inspired me, those who shared their stories, those who sat with me for 10 days, and the people who supported me once I got home.
It was a beautiful gift. One that I’ll continue to unwrap slowly, day by day.
May all beings be happy.
