Surrounded by jungle and rice paddies, the usually loquacious ARIEL LEVE unplugs and shuts up at the Bali Silent Retreat and finds that silence is a luxury.
Recently I learned of a new phobia. It’s called “sedatephobia.” It’s a fear, dread, and aversion to silence. This phobia was unheard of 50 years ago. And if you have this phobia, a good place to live is New York where silence is harder to find than someone who cares that you have this phobia.
Silence has become something of a paradox. We seek it out and avoid it as well. Why? Because for most people, it’s scary to be alone with your thoughts. Not for me. When I heard of the Bali Silent Retreat, I couldn’t think of anything better than spending a few days someplace where no one would talk to me. Talking to people takes energy. If someone asks, for instance, “How are you?” it’s rude not to respond. But coming up with an answer, especially lately, is draining.
Add to that the incessant need to check email and/or delete email which, when someone asks what I’m up to, is usually my standard response. There is so much garbage that fills the inbox of our brain—now is the ideal time to take out the psych-ological garbage, go for a digital detox, and reset.
“I couldn’t think of anything better than spending a few days someplace where no one would talk to me.”
But to find true silence these days, you have to go far. Unless, that is, you’re already in Bali. Two hours by car from most of the overcrowded and tourist-packed spots like Ubud and Canggu, you can be driven through rice terraces to a small Balinese village, surrounded by jungle and sounds of nature. (That counts as silence.)
Entering the Bali Silent Retreat, I immediately felt more reflective. My first thought: Why did I not come here sooner?
The first thing you might notice about the people there is how attractive everyone looks. Since I couldn’t ask where they were from, I observed. The woman who resembled Elle Macpherson (it wasn’t her) was reading a book in French. The gray-haired man, in flowing yoga pants with aviator sunglasses, was reading in Dutch. There were a few Japanese women, people of all ages, and I had no idea where the two men in the bungalow next to me (who sat on their porch reading together in silence) were from because they never uttered a word. At one point, I saw one of them pass a note—pass a note—to his partner and the response? A nod.
The accommodations are bare bones, comfortable, and private. Some have a view of the rice paddies with a porch and are close to the lodge. Others are set further back and have room for doing yoga. There are different price points and, no matter what, I would suggest packing light. Bring a sarong and books. You won’t need shoes other than sneakers and flip-flops. It’s ashram living.
You also will not be bringing any food or drinks in your room (apart from water) because it will attract ants and mice and mice attract snakes. If there’s one way to get me not to have snacks in the room, it’s to mention snakes. I left my almonds and rice cakes in a locker at the lodge.
“At 6:30 AM, when the brass gong woke everyone else up for meditation class, I headed to the reception area and sat outside on a wooden bench as the sun rose over the rice paddies. I sipped my Javanese coffee in silence; my form of meditation.”
The point of being at this retreat is to disconnect. However, while I can do without my phone, I can’t do without coffee. Because they know people like me require caffeine, there is the option to order a thermos of coffee the night before and it will be waiting for you by reception in the morning. At 6:30 AM, when the brass gong woke everyone else up for meditation class, I headed to the reception area and sat outside on a wooden bench as the sun rose over the rice paddies. I sipped my Javanese coffee in silence; my form of meditation.
Also, for people who were freaking out without access to Internet and electronic devices, this area (above the office) is a co-workspace. There is decent connectivity and you can ask reception for the password if you must get online. Most people, myself included, opt to give up their phone for a few days and it’s kept in a lockbox where you will be given the key. When I left the retreat and went on a rice field walk, I took it with me, just in case—even though I discovered there’s no signal so I couldn’t speak to anyone anyway. I took some videos instead.
What was remarkable was how much people respected the code of silence. Days are spent reading, walking, meditating, sleeping, serenely staring—and, in my case, anticipating the meals.
The sound of the gong signaling mealtime filled me with joy. When you arrive, you’re given a tray, dishes, a bowl, cutlery, and a ceramic mug. Your personal set will be kept in the lodge. Food is served three times a day—laid out buffet-style—and the biggest challenge will be not to pig out. Even though mindful eating is encouraged, you can mindfully eat as much as you want. People go to this retreat just for the food.
All of it is organic, vegetarian or vegan, and with plenty of gluten-free options. Dishes with duck eggs are labeled. Sample menus are on the website and for the cost of a shopping trip at Erewhon, you can fly to Bali, stay at this retreat, and devour some of the best healthy food you’ll ever have. This includes the all-day grazing, with fresh-baked cookies with cashews, coconut, and cacao, and unlimited turmeric or tamarind shots with ginger and palm honey.
It’s recommended to stay a minimum of five days—as it takes 48 hours to adapt to being disconnected. In the beginning, I was hesitant to stay that long, but by day three I was hesitant to leave. What’s so great about speaking? The retreat felt like a safe haven.
This is not the place to meet new people or make friends. It’s entirely about going inward and listening to the voices in your head. Once they stop demanding you check your email and Instagram, you can relax and become clear eyed.
You might even develop a new phobia: phonophobia—fear of phones. Not really—it’s actually the fear of loud noises, otherwise known as the outside world.
