The first time I ever went on a silent meditation retreat, 11 years ago, I thought I had entered the zombie apocalypse. After arriving and having dinner with my fellow retreatants, we went into silence. I had considered what it would be like to remain quiet myself for five days (hard, I figured) but not what it would be like to be surrounded by silent people.
The teachers encouraged us not to even look at each other (to focus on our own experience and avoid distractions), so people walked around with their eyes on the ground. We ate meals staring blankly at walls or soup bowls. Even sitting elbow to elbow in the dining room of the Southwest Colorado inn where the retreat was held, no one interacted in any way.
The next day, staring out over the pinon-juniper woodlands, I saw a sea of people plodding slowly in disparate directions as they practiced walking meditation. Step, step, step. It all seemed very weird.
Thus began my passion for silent retreats—haltingly.
I was inspired to sign up for the five-night retreat, organized by the local Buddhist community center, after taking a few beginning…
