What I learned in spending 10days in a silent retreat next to a pig's farm.

Part I — Ten days with myself.

I once spent ten days in silence in the north of Bali.

Not the kind of silence where you just don't talk much.

I mean no talking. No eye contact. No interaction. No phone. No books. No notebook. Nothing.

Just you, a room full of strangers, and your own mind.

The practice was Vipassana — ten days of meditation, around ten hours a day.

We would eat together, sit together, walk around together…

And completely ignore each other.

Which sounds peaceful.

Until you realise that when you remove every possible distraction from your life, there is only one person left to deal with.

You.

And after about two days, I thought:

"What the fuck am I doing here?"

My mind was going crazy.

It was creating stories, excuses, escape plans.

"This is insane."

"I don't need this."

"I should leave."

"Why am I doing this to myself?"

But I stayed.

And slowly, I started to realise something:

If you're going to spend ten hours a day with yourself, you'd better learn how to be your own best friend.

Part I — Ten days with myself.

I once spent ten days in silence in the north of Bali.

Not the kind of silence where you just don't talk much.

I mean no talking. No eye contact. No interaction. No phone. No books. No notebook. Nothing.

Just you, a room full of strangers, and your own mind.

The practice was Vipassana — ten days of meditation, around ten hours a day.

We would eat together, sit together, walk around together…

And completely ignore each other.

Which sounds peaceful.

Until you realise that when you remove every possible distraction from your life, there is only one person left to deal with.

You.

And after about two days, I thought:

"What the fuck am I doing here?"

My mind was going crazy.

It was creating stories, excuses, escape plans.

"This is insane."

"I don't need this."

"I should leave."

"Why am I doing this to myself?"

But I stayed.

And slowly, I started to realise something:

If you're going to spend ten hours a day with yourself, you'd better learn how to be your own best friend.

Part II - The pain or the pig?

On the third day, they asked us to sit completely still for one hour.

No scratching.

No changing position.

No moving.

Just sitting.

Around forty minutes in, my pelvic floor was absolutely on fire.

The pain was excruciating.

And my entire body was resisting it.

"I don't like this."

"I want it to stop."

"How much longer?"

The funny thing was, the pain itself wasn't the only problem.

My resistance to the pain was making everything worse.

So I tried something different.

Instead of fighting it, I decided to welcome it.

I breathed into it.

I observed it.

I stopped calling it bad.

I stopped trying to make it disappear.

And something strange happened.

The pain dissolved.

Not gradually.

It was just… gone.

Of course, when the hour finished and I moved my legs, I discovered that my body had not suddenly become enlightened.

But the experience had taught me something:

The sensation wasn't necessarily the problem. My relationship to the sensation was.

And then came another lesson.

One afternoon, while I was sitting there trying to find inner peace…

I heard a massive groan.

A pig.

And then another one.

And another.

That's when I realised:

There was a pig farm right next to the retreat.

And the Balinese were slaughtering pigs.

I had come to the middle of nowhere to find silence, peace and enlightenment…

And apparently, the universe had other plans.

There I was, sitting peacefully with my eyes closed, trying to observe my breath…

While a pig was screaming somewhere outside.

There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I couldn't get up.

I couldn't put music on.

I couldn't put my headphones in.

I couldn't complain.

I couldn't even talk to the person next to me.

So I had only one option:

Let it be there.

And after some time, something changed.

I could still hear the pigs.

But I wasn't fighting the sound anymore.

Eventually, I could barely hear it.

Part II - The pain or the pig?

On the third day, they asked us to sit completely still for one hour.

No scratching.

No changing position.

No moving.

Just sitting.

Around forty minutes in, my pelvic floor was absolutely on fire.

The pain was excruciating.

And my entire body was resisting it.

"I don't like this."

"I want it to stop."

"How much longer?"

The funny thing was, the pain itself wasn't the only problem.

My resistance to the pain was making everything worse.

So I tried something different.

Instead of fighting it, I decided to welcome it.

I breathed into it.

I observed it.

I stopped calling it bad.

I stopped trying to make it disappear.

And something strange happened.

The pain dissolved.

Not gradually.

It was just… gone.

Of course, when the hour finished and I moved my legs, I discovered that my body had not suddenly become enlightened.

But the experience had taught me something:

The sensation wasn't necessarily the problem. My relationship to the sensation was.

And then came another lesson.

One afternoon, while I was sitting there trying to find inner peace…

I heard a massive groan.

A pig.

And then another one.

And another.

That's when I realised:

There was a pig farm right next to the retreat.

And the Balinese were slaughtering pigs.

I had come to the middle of nowhere to find silence, peace and enlightenment…

And apparently, the universe had other plans.

There I was, sitting peacefully with my eyes closed, trying to observe my breath…

While a pig was screaming somewhere outside.

There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I couldn't get up.

I couldn't put music on.

I couldn't put my headphones in.

I couldn't complain.

I couldn't even talk to the person next to me.

So I had only one option:

Let it be there.

And after some time, something changed.

I could still hear the pigs.

But I wasn't fighting the sound anymore.

Eventually, I could barely hear it.

savoir-faire into a radiant expression of elegance

Part III — Equanimity.

That's when I understood one of the most powerful things I've ever learned:

Equanimity.

The ability to experience something without immediately trying to hold onto it or push it away.

Pleasant sensation?

Enjoy it.

But don't cling to it.

Unpleasant sensation?

Feel it.

But don't fight it.

Because everything changes.

Everything passes.

The pain passes.

The pleasure passes.

The noise passes.

The silence passes.

The good days pass.

The terrible days pass.

Even the things we are convinced will last forever eventually change.

Vipassana taught me that I don't have to like everything that happens to me.

I don't even have to understand everything that happens to me.

I can simply learn to be with it.

And maybe that's what being your own best friend really means.

Not constantly trying to make yourself feel good.

But being there for yourself when things feel really fucking uncomfortable.

Today, life still throws everything at me.

Joy.

Pain.

Love.

Loss.

Excitement.

Fear.

Chaos.

Peace.

And I'm still learning to ride all of it.

Not desperately holding onto the highs.

Not desperately trying to escape the lows.

Just remembering:

This too shall pass.

And somehow, that makes the whole crazy journey a little easier to ride.