Into the Dark

Part I: The Precipice

For so many years I flirted with the idea of doing a 10-day Vipassana. A kind of silent retreat where you meditate for hours each day and are not allowed any form of verbal or non-verbal communication. You’re encouraged to be in total stillness, but you’re allowed to go for walks and contemplate the profundity of nature around you. There is no darkness.

I remember a friend telling me that on day 3 or 4 you hit a wall, and every fiber of your being compels you to run away, but that if you stay with it, the sense of clarity and embodiment you feel is unmatched and truly life changing. I still remember how he described following an ant’s journey across a patch of grass, only to realize he had been doing so for two hours straight. The idea of discipline, stillness and solitude always intrigued me, and I figured I could make it through, but for a tall lanky fellow, the part where you had to be sitting upright in a lotus position for hours a day seemed like hell for my back. For someone who had made a living out of putting himself in uncomfortable situations, I mused how I could not get past this specific resistance. Perhaps there was something else I was meant to experience.

In February of 2023 I stumbled onto Sky Cave Retreats and reached out to Scott Berman, its founder to enquire. I had become increasingly interested in the idea of spending prolonged time in total darkness. Quickly the idea began to take hold in a manner which I was not unaccustomed to. Like most of my less sensible ideas, it was not fully formed yet but the allure and pull of it had become so undeniably strong that I knew it was like wrestling with the inevitable.

By May I had paid the deposit and was told the wait time would be over a year (the waitlist has since extended to 2029!). Scott tried to convince me to go for 3 or 4 days as a start. I figured I was flying halfway across the world for this and so I asked what the maximum number of advisable days for a first-timer is. He said seven days and so it was.

The motivation to do the retreat was a deep curiosity and knowing that this would be transformational in some way. I did not care to dissect it beyond that, it just felt right and I’ve learned that this is all I need to pursue anything. As the weeks turned into months, I began to feel a hint of trepidation around the experience. You see, as a kid and pre-teen, I was terrified of the dark on account of a recurring nightmare. To this day, I might have intrusive thoughts when I’m alone in the dark momentarily. I also had some concern around what the complete stillness would bring up, but for the most part I approached this with a healthy curiosity.

Finally, it was Friday, the 12^th of July, and I was sitting in Ashland airport in Oregon waiting for Scott to pick me up. Only an hour before, my ex had just texted me saying we needed to talk and asking whether we should do it before or after my retreat. We had been going through relationship challenges for months and I intuitively knew this was not going to be good news. My whole body tensed up, and my anxiety reached record levels. I dreaded the conversation, but I also knew that having it after the retreat would mean I’d spend a week in darkness, spiraling about what the conversation might have been about.

I situated myself in a quiet place at the airport and made the call. It was relatively brief. I remember gripping my phone harder than I needed to. She had reached the conclusion that there was no sense in trying anymore. I calmly listened to what she had to say and expressed my sadness for having reached this point. I did not resist. There was no more fight in me.

When I hung up, Scott had already texted saying he was only twenty minutes away. The uncertainty of the past few months had me in an almost constant state of anxiety. Strangely enough, despite the piercing pain of loss, I could already sense my anxiousness over the fear of losing her begin to dissipate. Yet, it was almost as quickly being replaced with a dread of now facing the reality of tomorrow having to sit with all of this for an entire week in total darkness! My mind began to race as I paced across the terminal. I know, I would wait till Scott got here and explain to him that I’d made a mistake. That I had every intention to go through with it, but it was now not going to be possible. That this was not backing out, it was an act of self-preservation.

Then I thought about how it all started. The fact that I had booked this over a year ago before we had entered the most difficult phase of our relationship. The fact that I had a feeling I need to embark on this journey not knowing exactly why and choosing to trust the process. And most profound of all, that the dates allocated, then 16 months later, would turn out to be the next day to receiving this news. The more I thought about it, the more I began to consider divine intervention. Maybe if I had received the news days earlier, I would have cancelled or not flown to the US altogether.

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While I was immersed in these thoughts, I saw Scott’s pick-up truck pull up in front of the airport. I took a deep breath and went out to meet him. As we drove towards the retreat venue, I got to know a bit about his life story. I briefly explained why I had come, a question whose answer had radically changed just a few minutes ago. An intense dread still lingered in my chest, but as time went by, I started to feel more resolute. It was time for the warrior to meet the artist in me. To understand how to overcome without aim, to surrender without defeat.