The Value of a Slow Practice

I recently had the unique experience of attending a silent meditation retreat hosted only 50 minutes away from Fernie. Tucked away in the shadow of Bull Mountain, Clear Sky Meditation and Study Center is an understated retreat center founded in the early 2000s. It sits on 310 acres adjacent to the Bull River Grasslands Complex, an area of land that is protected by the Nature Trust of British Columbia. Despite being only a few minutes off Highway 93, it feels like a world away.

I had no idea how to prepare for this retreat. I don’t have a meditation practice and the idea of intentional silence around strangers felt unnerving. I have an academic understanding of Buddhism but have no practice with it. I have used “mantras” in the way that Westerners tend to use them – to overcome and override my senses during challenging physical and mental endeavours. How does one use a mantra if not on a bicycle with a heart rate of 180+? The only commitment I could make as it approached was that I would stay curious and open to the experience.

The retreat was a short one, only two nights and three days. There were only five of us there in addition to the two teachers and handful of residents on the property. The silent part didn’t begin until after dinner on Friday, so we were able to talk and connect with the teachers and one another until then. Once the retreat kicked off in earnest, it was no talking unless absolutely necessary. There was an introductory meditation sit on Friday night where they went over the super basics like how to sit on a mat and on pillows, so your legs don’t fall asleep, how to work a mala, and how to breathe. We did our first sādhanā that evening and I got my first experience with guided meditation. 

The rest of the weekend followed the same pattern. There would be a shared meal in silence, a Karma Yoga practice to clean up and do chores, 90 minutes of guided meditation, and then private practice. When we weren’t in a meditation session or at a meal, we were alone and in reflection. It goes without saying that this is a technology free experience. No phones, computers, or music. And if you want to discover just how addicted to your phone you might be, a tech free weekend is a good way to get a feel for that.

While I am not coming back with a fully formed practice, I did bring back some insights and reflections that I feel are worthy to give energy to and I’m going to share them so you can consider implementing them as well.

1.    Talking is exhausting. I realized just how much energy goes into verbal social interaction and small talk when I didn’t have to do it. The nervousness that I feel around groups of people has nothing to do with the people, it’s me. There’s a drain on your energy when you are concerning yourself with what you are saying, how you are sounding, and whether or not people think you’re funny, smart, witty, etc. It actually felt less awkward to be with people in silence because you could just be WITH them without the pressure of having to interact verbally. I can put this into practice back at home by doing more listening and less talking. I can worry less about what I say if I say less. And when you say less, you hear more. And that’s a good thing.

2.    Sitting and looking at nature is highly underrated. I sat on the deck of my private cabin on Friday night for over an hour looking at a single elk that was in a meadow about 2000m away. My mind wasn’t drifting around or lost in worry, it was just there. It was quiet. I was surrounded by the sounds of leaves, insects, and birds with the occasional moo from the cattle ranch that shares a property line. I don’t remember the last time I sat and did nothing for that long, but it was incredibly grounding and invigorating! And there is truly no reason I can’t find 15 minutes to do that once or twice a week. I’d encourage you to do the same.

3.    You can walk barefoot through the woods. As part of the private practice, we were encouraged to get out onto the network of trails and spend time in nature. I love a good trail, so this was something I was genuinely looking forward to. The downside was I had only brought clogs, which aren’t the best trail shoes. But the trails were loamy and soft, so I decided, why not just ditch the shoes? So, I did. And not only did my gate improve, but I found myself experiencing the forest in a different way. You can’t mindlessly walk through the woods in bare feet; you have to pay attention to what you’re stepping on. This practice is actually recommended in a book I recently bought at Polar Peak Books, The Art of Simple Living: 100 Daily Practices from a Japanese Zen Monk for a Lifetime of Calm and Joy. So, I figured what better time and place to try it than at a Buddhist meditation retreat. Obviously if you try this one out, make sure you are in a safe area and have shoes and bear spray handy and take care to clean your feet when you get home. But if we’re designed for barefoot walking, why not barefoot walk from time to time?

4.    It’s easier to taste and appreciate food when you aren’t talking. Have you ever made it through a meal with friends or colleagues and realized you didn’t really taste much of what you ate? How about thinking about where all of the ingredients came from and the work that went into creating the plate of food in front of you? I bet you can relate. The intention at meal times at this retreat was to reflect and feel grateful for the food, the cooks, the farmers, the drivers, and anyone who took part in creating it. When you slow down, your digestion improves as well. Not only did I really enjoy the food (the food was amazing), but I felt way better after eating it because I didn’t mindlessly inhale it during breaks in conversation. This is a really easy practice to bring home that doesn’t demand silence, only awareness.

5. Being still is really powerful. Western society really prioritizes productivity, so it’s no surprise that over time, we become accustomed to activity to a degree where being still, quiet, and reflective can feel strange. And it was at first. But it didn’t take long to settle in and start to feel the benefits of a meditation practice. Not every practice needs to be 90 minutes, mine won’t be. But some dedicated time to find mindful stillness away from work, exercise, and activity is something I think everyone can benefit from.

If you feel curious about any of these, I encourage you to try them out and see what feels right for you! A little goes a long way, especially when building a new practice.