Last weekend, having emerged from the cosmic slump which describes October, I pulled the lastest of my resolve and ended up hatching a brainchild: go somewhere, anywhere, because I need a recharge for my life. Friday noon, during that one-hour window between treatment and work, a quick internet search led me to a promising 4-day meditation retreat, where I was to experience true peace, joy, bliss and love at the famed beaches of Boracay. After consulting with my doctors and explaining to the instructor my condition, I decided that all signs seem to say I must do this. And with loads of cheering from my tribe, here I am, 300 miles away from my home, rolling solo, to discover how meditation can help me find the light within.
I arrived early in the morning of Day 1, and was ushered into a schedule packed with so much activity by Sam, our instructor. The way he looks fits the bill of an island-based meditation teacher too: powdery beard, white shorts a contrast to his sunburned skin. A beach-based mutt sat beside him at the shore during yoga, and the little fella protectively guarded us, barking fiercely at anyone daring to come near. Sam is French, and so says the word happening, harmony and happiness without the letter h, which I thought was lovely. Our class is a motley crew of five, representing four of the continents. And while we come from different parts of the world, I thought we signed up for the same reason: we were searching for something, and hoping the retreat brings us a little piece of discovery.
At the onset, I thought there had been ample time in between sessions for me to walk the length of White Beach, to gaze out to the sea, for free time just all to myself. But the classes had been both relaxing and exhausting that all I wanted to do in between was take a nap. It would be depriving future participants the experience if I wrote in detail how the sessions went, so I will not. I must say however that while I had some reservations going in, only because I didn’t know what to expect, there had been some pretty intense aha moments. Thus far.
It’s the evening of Day 2, and we’ve had seven sessions to date, some lasting an hour, some three. This morning I woke up with a start because the time said 6:58 and I had to rush 200 meters south for our early morning yoga sessions at the beach. Meanwhile, all meditation activities were held in Sam’s minimalist home studio. Two days in and what I can say is each is an experience of a spectrum: it kicks off with a dynamic exercise, and then makes you do an absolute stop–bam!–and immediately it brings you down to deeply focus within. The activities challenged my comfort zone, defied logic at times, made me feel really silly, but also encouraged a lot of letting go–no inhibitions, no questions, taking it in by being aware of myself and myself alone.
This afternoon’s breathe work session had been quite liberating. When Sam was giving us a rundown of the activity, my understanding was there was no right or wrong way to do it, I just need to listen to what my body tells me. But two rounds in and I thought, nothing, and in hindsight I realized it wasn’t working because I focused too much on my footwork and allowed myself to listen too much to what the others were doing. At the third round however, I felt tears streaming down my face. And they weren’t from sadness, I know for sure. They flowed because in that moment, I learned how to let go.
After today’s final session, I could’ve asked my new friends to have dinner again, and yet I watched them walk away tonight, quite happy no one extended an invite. Perhaps we were all kinda waiting on each other to do it, but everyone bit their tongue. And I was ok with that. I wanted to be alone on a Friday night at the partiest of island our side of the world, and what a liberating feeling that was.
I walk the length of White Beach now, yes, writing this along the way. I look at the thousands of tourists’ faces and try to discern what made them come to this little island. Fun, kiteboarding, a break from work, love, a sidetrip from wherever else. Ruddy faces, from the sun, from alcohol, from dancing, laughing. I’ve done all those in Boracay and never have I thought I would come back here to try to discover myself. It’s so touristy that it’s the last thing one can think of. But maybe this is where the universe wanted me to be: a crazy busy chaotic tourist island full of stimulants to teach me its exact opposite. Or something.
I’m not expecting to be changed overnight. But certainly this is a step. To another discovery. A preparation. An acceptance. Already short of monies, this trip leaves me even more broke, but I hope my heart is richer, filled with a little bit more hope than despair, for what tomorrow brings.
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Pictured: Sunset at Boracay Island
Finally Dee 