Solitary retreats – all alone with nowhere to go, doing nothing with nobody. It’s simple in concept and simple in execution. Hire a place, go there, don’t invite anyone else, and stay there for a predetermined length of time. 

I’ve recently come back from a solitary retreat and here’s how I spent my time.

I Did A Lot Of

In addition to basic human functions, I cycled through the holy trinity of solitary retreat activities.

Meditation

In my day to day existence I meditate once or perhaps twice a day. On solitary it’s much more and typically longer. The trick is not to become too tight about it and turn it into an Olympic sport. Meditate lots but stay loose and connected. 

Reflecting

When I’m not meditating, then I’m sat in a chair with my feet up thinking about things. It’s astonishing what rotates around the mind, and it becomes quickly apparent what is bothering me in the non-retreat existence. Sometimes the thoughts change and are flexible and sometimes the thoughts are stuck. The former is pleasant and the latter is really good information. If thoughts won’t go, then I’ve found it’s good to write them out. There is something about externalising that robs even the most potent obsession of its power. I always bring a pad and paper along – there are always thoughts and I always write them out.

Napping

When I’m not meditating or reflecting, then I’m napping. I’m an enthusiastic napper, and given the opportunity, I’ll go to bed for a little sleep. The first thing I do when going on solitary is grab a pillow and get under the covers – no matter what time of day it is. I’m always happiest having a snooze.

I Did A Little Bit Of

A little variety is probably a good thing, but I find it best to limit these activities in favour of the much more important tasks of meditating, reflecting and napping. 

Reading 

I restrict reading to books about meditation or similar, and perhaps some poems. Short poetry of an uplifting variety is best. Avoid Dante’s Inferno.

Exercise 

Occasionally I get out of my chair and go for a wander. Then I find a rock to sit on and do some more reflecting. 

Eating

Eating is surprisingly optional. Fasting is a popular retreat activity, but it’s not for me – I’m not into retreat orientated starvation. I tend to go the other way. I overcook and overeat. So it’s yes to eating, but not too much. It’s not an all you can eat buffet.

I Tried To Do None Of

I really try not to do these things – but I’m not perfect and I cheated on some.

Checking My Phone 

I’m pretty good at not checking my phone. It’s largely in airline mode, though I used it occasionally when I texted my wife to remind her I was still alive (and I was missing her). And there were some really cute kangaroos that I snapped and share with her.

Paid Work

I never check work emails or do anything connected with exchanging labour for money. Time on solitary is precious and work will suck it all up. I like my job – but it’s a voracious demon. I keep it locked in a box on solitary.

Novels

I love novels, but really really try not to read them on solitary – or write them. I failed. I couldn’t help outlining a sequence of novels I have in mind. I told myself it was reflective writing, but that was a lie. I was writing a novel. No-one is perfect, I guess.

Talking to humans

Nobody was there to talk to anyway, so this is an easy one. Where I go is set up for that express purpose – solitude. There are boundary flags to ward people off, and any food that I need is dropped off by one of the flags. Last year, I did a solitary that was at the bottom of someone’s (large) garden but we managed to ignore each other. If people know you are in silence, they tend to respect that.

And if I started talking to myself? Then I’d know the solitary had gone on too long and it was time to bring it to a close and rejoin the world. That hasn’t happened – yet.

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash