After being on the waiting list for six months, I was unexpectedly admitted to a ten-day Vipassana meditation course one week before it started. I didn’t hesitate. Looking back now, months later, I can say it was one of the hardest and most transformative experiences of my life.
I’d like to share with you my experience with Vipassana so that you can decide for yourself if you’d like to try it.
There are many meditation techniques out there. The best approach is to try different methods and keep what resonates most with you.
Ten Days of Silence
No talking.
No eye contact.
No music. Not even humming.
No books, no phones, no distractions.
Just me, my breath, and my endlessly chattering mind.
We woke up at 4 a.m. to the sound of a gong. Meditated until breakfast at 6:30am, again until lunch at 11am, and again for a few hours until evening. 10.5 hours of meditation every single day.
Men and women were separated. Meals were simple and vegetarian. To my delight, even vegan-friendly, with soy milk, peanut butter, flaxseed, and plenty of legumes. At 5pm there was tea and fruit. “Old Students” weren’t allowed fruits. Pregnant women, however, received a small meal.
Every evening, we listened to S.N. Goenka’s recorded talks. My favourite time of day, simply because someone was speaking and the stories he shared were insightful and sometimes funny.
When the Mind Rebels
There were moments when I thought I couldn’t take another hour of sitting in silence.
My knees hurt, my back ached.
I wanted to pack my backpack and go home.
In my mind, I wrote letters to friends, came up with business ideas, and made endless to-do lists. At some point, I couldn’t stand it anymore that I could not write anything down.
Eventually, I realised: If an idea is truly good, I won’t forget it.
So I stayed.
Growth rarely comes wrapped in comfort.
In the beginning, I realised how many thoughts I actually have and how many of them are unnecessary. Memories I didn’t even know I had, came up. Some beautiful, some painful.
The instruction remained the same: Observe the sensations without reacting.
No judgment. No aversion. No craving.
The Language of the Body
Sensations are any physical feelings that arise in the body. This can be something as obvious like pain in the back during long sits, an itch on your nose, the warmth of the sun, but also subtle feelings such as tingling in your hands or even a sense of energy moving through you.
Normally, we react instantly. Scratch the itch. Shift away from pain. Cling to pleasure.
But in Vipassana, you learn to do the opposite.
You observe what’s happening in the body and resist the impulse to react. As I kept sitting, I noticed that every sensation, pleasant or unpleasant, would arise, stay for a while, and eventually fade.
This direct experience of impermanence (anicca) changed something deep inside of me.
I began to truly understand that nothing lasts.
Everything arises and passes away.
Everything is temporary.
The Practice of Presence
This understanding also taught me to be more present. To truly enjoy pleasant moments while they last, and to remember that even the hardest times shall pass.
When we’re caught in the mindset of “If I have this…” or “If I become that…” then I’ll be happy, we’re actually living in a state of craving. A state that’s far from the present moment and never brings peace.
In such moments, I’ve learned to pause and ask: What can I be grateful for right now?
And when life feels heavy I remind myself that indulging those feelings only deepens the suffering.
Instead, I think back to times when I was in a similar place and somehow found my way out again. It may sound logical, but I know it’s not always easy to apply. Even after three Vipassana courses, I still sometimes get caught up in emotions. And that’s okay.
Freedom in Equanimity
We don’t always get to choose what comes, but we can choose how we react.
And in that choice lies our freedom.
Vipassana teaches to stay equanimous amid pleasure and pain, praise and blame. When impermanence becomes something you feel in every cell, the grasping for pleasure and resistance to pain begin to soften. You start to meet each moment simply as it is.
One of the most powerful lessons came when I realised how often I had wasted energy replaying an insult in my head.
Before, if someone offended me, I would react with anger, letting their words echo for days.
But through Vipassana, I saw that if I stayed equanimous, if I didn’t accept the insult, my peace remained untouched. The other person’s words lost power.
Forgiveness
Since the course, I’ve noticed lasting changes. After meditating, my mind feels clearer, quieter. I make better decisions, work more focused, and carry more energy for the things that truly matter.
But the most profound shift came in my heart.
Many of the grudges I had carried for years began to dissolve.
Anger had quietly transformed into empathy.
For instance, when I was a teenager, a neighbour once filmed me without my permission after I had taken a shower and was putting cream on my naked body. He never apologised, even though he’d promised my dad that he would. For years, I held that against him.
Looking back now, I can imagine what might have gone on in his mind. Perhaps he wanted to apologise but felt ashamed, and as time passed, it became harder. The ironic thing is that, even back then, I understood that people make mistakes. His wife was pregnant at the time, and I could see how complex life can be. Yet what hurt me most was not the act itself, but the silence that followed. From that day on, I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, and my dislike slowly turned into quiet resentment.
After Vipassana, something softened. I realised that holding resentment only hurt me.
When I met him again, I could look him in the eyes and say hello with a genuine smile.
Feeling deeply but recover more quickly
Meditation helped me to feel even deeper but recover more quickly.
Grieve without drowning.
Love without clinging.
At some point, you begin to understand that the person you mourn would want you to be happy and live your life fully. Excessive grief can trap you in suffering. One day, it will be our turn to go and that will be okay, because that too is part of the cycle of life.
When Goenka once said that an enlightened being no longer feels negative emotions, I told my teacher I wasn’t sure I wanted enlightenment then. I love about me that I am so sensitive. He laughed, assuring me that such a state might take a lifetime or several.
Until then, emotions are part of being human.
The key is to feel them fully without becoming them.
The Science of Impermanence
Our seemingly solid body is made up of subatomic particles and empty space. Subatomic particles are the smallest known building blocks of matter. Even these tiny particles have no real firmness or stability. They arise and vanish in less than a trillionth of a second, constantly appearing and disappearing like vibrations in a stream.
In 2012, scientists at CERN confirmed the existence of one such short-lived particle, the Higgs Boson which is much smaller than a proton.
This is the reality of our body and of all matter.
And it’s exactly what the Buddha rediscovered 2500 years ago:
Nothing is permanent.
Vipassana is neither a religion, nor a sect. It’s a way of life, grounded in direct experience and it taught me to enjoy beauty while it lasts and to remember, even in hard times:
This too shall pass.
Minimalist Traveller 
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