My 10-Day Silent Vipasanna Meditation Experience

In this post, I’ll share my experience of attending my first 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat at the Dhamma Dīpa centre in Herefordshire, UK. Despite reading and watching videos to prepare, nothing could have truly prepared me for what the experience was actually like. It was both more challenging and more rewarding than I had imagined it would be.

I’m writing this because the retreat turned out to be one of the hardest yet most transformative things I’ve ever done. I believe others should know what to expect, how to prepare, and the challenges and breakthroughs that come with it.

I’ll cover everything from the structure of the 10 days, the highs and lows, the lessons learned, and the personal revelations I experienced. I’ll also share how it has changed the way I think, feel, and act – all for the better. Hopefully, this might inspire you to consider a Vipassana retreat for yourself.

The entrance of the Vipassana centre. Feeling the nerves as I enter, wonder what I've signed myself up for.

Here's What I'm Going to Cover:

• What is Vipassana and why I decided to go on this 10-day silent meditation retreat
• My preconceptions and expectations about the course and it's benefits
• The reality about the course, my challenges & struggles
• What happens during the 10-day course & my experiences throughout
• Life after the course and how Vipassana has affected my life
• What you should know before you decide to go on a course
• How to apply for the Vipassana course if you decide to go
• How to prepare for the course & what to pack
• My final thoughts and overall comments

So, let’s dive in. This will be a detailed post, but I promise it’s worth the read!

What is Vipassana and Why I Decided to Go

What is Vipassana?

Vipassana is a meditation technique rediscovered by Buddha over 2,500 years ago. It involves observing bodily sensations to develop awareness and a deep understanding of impermanence. Through this, you learn to cultivate equanimity – maintaining a balanced mind in all situations. It’s a practical technique that’s open to everyone, regardless of beliefs, and doesn’t involve any religious rituals.

Now, you might be thinking, What on earth is equanimity, and why should I care about impermanence? I get it. Before I did this course, I only had a vague idea of what Vipassana was. So, I’ll break it down for you in this post, sharing my personal take after going through the 10-day retreat.

But first things first – why would anyone do a 10-day silent meditation course? What’s the point? What are the benefits? Should you give it a try? Don’t worry, I’ll cover all of that, along with what I knew before, what I learned, and what I wish I’d known going into it.

Why I Decided to Go on a 10-day Vipassana Course

The first time I heard of Vipassana was back in my 3rd year of medical school at UCL. It was around the time I started getting into self-improvement. I was watching podcasts, listening to audiobooks, and consuming content about improving myself. As I became inspired, I started making real changes – working out, fixing my sleep schedule, setting goals, and even trying things like cold showers and breathwork.

This period of intense focus on self-improvement gave me the momentum to keep going. I was juggling medical school (which is no small feat) while maintaining all these new habits. Meditation was one of the practices I decided to try because I’d heard about its benefits. I started using the Headspace app and gradually incorporated meditation into my life.

Over the years, as I kept learning and experimenting, meditation remained a constant practice. I dabbled in other apps and methods, but always found myself coming back to Headspace. While I wasn’t the most consistent, I stuck with it, noticing that it helped me stay calm, respond better to stress, and become more self-aware.

My meditation logs from various meditation apps. My total meditation minutes are 17k. The 10-day course has 10 hours of meditation a day, so around half of what I've meditated in my entire life is covered in this one course. So the course is quite intensive!

In 2018, I heard about Vipassana on a podcast epsisode by Tom Bilyeu. Colin O'Brady, the guest, spoke so highly of Vipassana, describing how it had helped him endure and persevere through the significant challenges of crossing Antartica solo! That planted a seed of curiosity in my mind – how can a meditation technique help one achieve such mastery over their mind? I knew that one day, I’d want to give this 10-day Vipassana course a try. However, with a busy life, I never really looked into it further.

Fast forward a few years and a friend of mine mentioned wanting to attend a Vipassana retreat. To my surprise, I found out there was a centre in the UK offering the course. I had always imagined these retreats were held abroad in exotic, serene locations, so the thought of doing one in the UK felt a lot more feasible. Plus, doing it with a friend made the idea even more appealing (I ended up going just by myself in the end).

At the time, I was nearing the end of my foundation training (F1/F2) as a junior doctor. I’d already decided to take a break after finishing these two years, so this seemed like the perfect time to do a retreat – a chance to reset my mind and life before starting a new chapter.

So, I went online, checked the course dates, and set several reminders for myself to apply as soon as the window opened, as I’d heard these spots fill up quickly. Thankfully, I secured a spot and was all set.
Over the next few months, I watched a few YouTube videos of others’ experiences (video 1, video 2, video 3, video 4, video 5), and their stories reassured me that I’d made the right decision. But as the course date approached, doubts crept in. I started wondering if I could handle 10 days of silent meditation. Despite the nerves, I pushed through and confirmed my place, knowing this was the best time to go.

Then I went to course, which ran from 28th August to 8th September 2024. Since I was finishing my F2 training and had a lot of free time after, it was the perfect window to take the plunge. You actually need 12 days free (to include day 0 before the course and day 11, the leaving day).

Now, having completed the course, I can say it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It didn’t always feel that way, especially during the course itself – I wanted to quit more than once! But now, on the other side of it, I’m incredibly grateful I stuck it out. The experience was profound, and I’ll explain why.

My Preconceptions and Expectations

Before attending the Vipassana course, I had certain expectations of what it would be like:

• A peaceful centre: I imagined it as a peaceful retreat centre with like-minded individuals who, like me, were there to improve themselves. People from different walks of life, coming together with a shared vision. I also envisioned a serene environment with beautiful scenery and nature – a perfect place to disconnect and reflect.
• I knew it would be challenging to follow the strict rules: waking up at 4 am, maintaining silence (no talking, eye contact, or gestures), and meditating for long stretches every day. I doubted I’d be able to focus for that long or sit still without discomfort.
• A much-needed escape from the stress of F1/F2: I thought it would feel like a mental detox, a chance to reset after the pressures of my career and personal life. I saw it as an opportunity to distance myself from my anxieties, even if only temporarily.
• The meals: I worried that eating only two vegetarian meals a day, especially without meat, would leave me feeling hungry and tired. 
• It will be easier as it goes on: I also expected that as the days passed, I would settle more and more into the routine, and it would become easier. I’d heard that the first 3-4 days are the hardest, and after that, people often start experiencing the benefits. I was curious about the insights I might uncover, the self-discoveries I’d make.
• Determination to complete the course: I kept telling myself that this was all for my own good, that I’d made the right decision to go at this particular moment in my life. Despite the challenges, I was determined to stay the full 10 days. I didn’t want to be one of those who quit halfway through, no matter how tough it got.

The Reality of the Course

When I arrived, I tried not to let my expectations get the best of me. I didn’t want to be disappointed if things didn’t match my idealised image. However, here’s what it was actually like:

The centre was indeed peaceful, with nature surrounding us. I was surprised and delighted to find a walking area with trails leading through a small forest. I’d recently found solace in nature walks when life got overwhelming, and this space turned out to be exactly what I needed, even though I hadn’t expected it.

Coming back from the walking area looking towards the meditation hall and various outbuildings in the course centre.

The centre had several outbuildings: a dining hall, separate accommodation blocks, a meditation hall, the walking area, and communal toilet and shower facilities. I don’t know why, but I thought the rooms would have en suites (which they didn’t), but I wasn’t disappointed. The shared facilities were clean and worked well.

The centre had many outbuildings for acommodation. This was the meditation teacher's building.

My room was small but cozy, with just a bed, a bedside table, and a few hooks for clothes. I had been sleeping on the floor at home for a while, so the bed felt like an upgrade! It was minimal, but it had everything I needed.

My room. It had a single bed, bedside table, some space to put your stuff and clothes hooks/hangers. Covered with thick blackout curtains. I was lucky and had the one at the end with the window!

There were people from all walks of life attending the course, as I had imagined. Some people looked like seasoned meditators, dressed in robes and had shaven-heads, whilst others seemed like first-timers, just like me. There was a good mix of new and old students, which made it easier to fit in.

Surprisingly, the 4 am wake-up call wasn’t as difficult as I thought. Since it was still dark outside, it felt like an extension of the night rather than an early start to the day. I also didn’t struggle as much with the silence. In fact, I enjoyed it. Not having to make eye contact or gesture to others felt strange at first, but it became a relief – no pressure to interact with others or to be judged.

I was also less attached to my phone than I expected. While I did have those automatic thoughts like, “I should Google this” or “Let me check my calendar,” I quickly adjusted to not having my phone. I didn’t miss social media or constant notifications either. In a way, it was freeing.

However, I did begin to miss the comfort of familiar people and routines. Without the distractions of reading or chatting, my thoughts turned inward, and I found myself thinking a lot about home, people close to me, and unfinished tasks. The lack of external stimulation created a strange sense of isolation.

As for the meditation itself, it was incredibly challenging. Each sitting lasted an hour, and I struggled with both the physical discomfort of sitting and the mental challenge of staying focused. The technique involved focusing on the breath for the first three days, which, while difficult, did become easier with practice. I got better at noticing when my mind wandered and bringing it back to the present.

Still, the physical pain was constant. I developed back, knee, and leg pain that felt like it would never go away, despite the teacher assuring us it would. This physical discomfort made it hard to stay focused, and I started to lose faith in the technique as the days went on.

The rules about silence and isolation were manageable, but by the fifth day, I felt the weight of my ongoing problems and responsibilities pressing back in. The course didn’t make those things disappear; if anything, they became more acute the more I meditated. I began to feel like my life was on hold, and that impatience grew as the days dragged on.

As for the meals, I expected the limited diet to be hard, and it was. Initially, I didn’t feel particularly hungry, but as time passed, I found myself craving familiar foods. By the end, I was daydreaming about having a proper meal, particularly meat – something as mundane as KFC suddenly seemed like heaven.

Despite the reduced calorie intake, I didn’t feel as low on energy as I’d feared, probably because I was expending less physical energy during the day. I did, however, lose quite a bit of weight – I lost 4 kg by the end of the course. That worried me a little, as I didn’t want to lose the muscle I had worked so hard to gain.

Why Am I Recommending It and What Made Me Stay?

You might be thinking, This sounds awful. Why would anyone willingly go through this? Honestly, I asked myself the same thing – multiple times. I was mentally preparing to leave, imagining exactly how I’d walk out, grab some KFC, go to the spa, maybe even swing by the butcher’s for some mutton. I had a full plan for quitting, but I stayed. Why?

For me, it came down to a core principle: being a person of your word. I told myself I’d stay, and if I left, I’d be letting myself down. Sure, it would have been easy to slip away without telling anyone, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t face the embarrassment of explaining why I quit, not to mention disappointing myself and others. Plus, the idea of leaving was also daunting because I didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of telling the management. It was easier to stay.

I was not working at the time, drifting through life without much direction, so I thought, what am I really going back to? That gave me enough of a reason to stick it out. Even though my car was literally parked outside, tempting me the whole time, I stayed because I had told myself I would.

Daily Routine

The schedule was relentless, and I quickly began to check out mentally:

• 4:00 am: Wake-up bell.
• 4:30 – 6:30 am: Meditation, either in the hall or our rooms.
• 6:30 – 8:00 am: Breakfast.
• 8:00 – 9:00 am: Group meditation in the hall.
• 9:00 – 11:00 am: Meditation, either in the hall or our rooms.
• 11:00 am – 12:00 pm noon: Lunch.
• 12:00 – 1:00 pm: Rest or teacher interviews. I never went for interviews because the course instructions were already clear.
• 1:00 – 2:30 pm: Meditation.
• 2:30 – 3:30 pm: Group meditation in the hall.
• 3:30 – 5:00 pm: Meditation, either in the hall or our rooms.
• 5:00 – 6:00 pm: Tea break. New students like me were allowed tea and two pieces of fruit. Old students were allowed lemon water. I started skipping the milk tea to help my messed-up sleep schedule, and Rubios tea became my go-to.
• 6:00 – 7:00 pm: Group meditation in the hall.
• 7:00 – 8:15 pm: The evening discourse, where the teacher Goenka would explain the technique, tell stories, and offer insights. Surprisingly, this became the highlight of my day. Despite mentally checking out of the technique, I found Goenka’s talks engaging, relatable, and timeless, even though they were recorded a long time ago (in 1991). His way of storytelling was captivating and made sense even to a sceptical person like me.
• 8:15 – 9:00 pm: Shorter group meditation before bed.
• 9:00 – 9:30 pm: Time for questions, but I never stayed for this. I just wanted to sleep, although insomnia began creeping in.

Initially, my sleep was fine, but as the course went on, I started struggling. Goenka had mentioned in his talks not to stress about insomnia – he recommended meditating even while lying in bed. I tried it, and though I still wasn’t getting much sleep, it helped my mind feel more rested.

This was my routine – day after day. By the end, while everyone around me seemed relieved and proud, I didn’t feel any of that. I felt like I hadn’t gotten anything out of this course. But then, the day I left the centre, things began to change, and I realised that staying was one of the best decisions I ever made. I’ll explain why in the next section.

My Personal Experience Throughout the Course

Before the course starts (day 0):

This was the day we arrived at the centre, between 2-5 pm. I opted to arrive sooner rather than later, aiming to get settled in and explore the centre before others started arriving. I drove to the centre and got there around 2:30 pm. There’s plenty of parking right in front of the entrance.

Upon arrival, you register – men on the left and women on the right. They give you a form to fill out, whether you’re a new or returning student, or serving. Afterwards, you’re handed an information booklet, and once the paperwork is done, you’re given your room number.

At this point, it’s time to lock away anything you’re not allowed to have, such as your phone or reading materials. I switched off my phone, made sure my alarms were off, and said a brief goodbye to it. I then grabbed my belongings and headed to my room.

On day 0, there’s an introduction talk at 6 pm, but up until that point, you can still talk and socialise. I met an Irish guy from Dublin who had done the course six times. I asked him for advice since this was my first time, but as he started talking, I started having doubts about why he’d done it so many times and whether he found it beneficial. He also admitted he didn’t practice much at home, which triggered further doubts in my own mind – surely if this technique is so great, you'd be continuing to practice it at home?

There’s also a form to fill out asking about mental health, medications, and emergency contacts, which only increased my uncertainty. You have to sign an agreement, and the introduction speech gives you one final chance to opt out. Once 7 pm hits, and the gong rings, you’re fully committed, and the rules of silence begin.

The gong marked the beginning of silence. As it echoed, I felt a mix of emotions – overwhelm, uncertainty, and a bit of panic. Everyone suddenly became serious, avoiding eye contact, and the rules began. I saw the boundaries of the course for the first time and realised this was my life for the next ten days. At that moment, I genuinely thought I had made a mistake.

The gong with the meditation hall in the background. They ring it throughout the day according to the schedule. This was the place I stood right when the silence began.

Early days (days 1-3):

The first three days were hands-down the hardest thing I’ve ever done – physically, mentally, and emotionally. Sitting still was unbearable. I constantly shifted my position, scratched itches, and battled my thoughts. My mind was racing, my body was restless, and I felt overwhelmed by the silence and the solitude.

I had prepared myself for difficulty but nothing could have truly prepared me for this. My mind was all over the place, I began missing everything – my phone, the people I love, the day-to-day activities of my normal life. Thoughts of leaving were frequent, and I even made plans in my mind to quit.

But I pushed through, telling myself that if I could survive these first few days, things might get easier. It was easily one of the toughest challenges of my life.

Middle (days 4-7):

As I entered the middle phase of the course, I began to notice a slight shift. I was becoming more aware of my thoughts and could focus a bit more on the technique.

Day six marked the start of the Vipassana technique itself. Before that, we had been practising Anapana – focusing on our breath, honing our concentration. On the sixth day, we began the "sitting of determination". In this sitting, you’re not allowed to move at all, no matter the discomfort – no scratching, no adjusting, nothing.

As the sitting began, the silence in the room was almost eerie. I could feel the seriousness in the air. There were so many people in the hall, but not a single sound. It felt surreal, and I thought maybe this was the moment where the benefits would start to kick in. But despite my efforts, I didn’t feel any deep revelations or insights. I kept telling myself, “Maybe tomorrow… maybe the next day…” but day seven came and went with no major breakthroughs.

End (days 8-10):

By day eight, I started losing faith in the process. I had placed so much hope in the idea that the technique would eventually “work,” and it still hadn’t. I began breaking the rules – writing down my thoughts, to-dos, and food cravings on pieces of tissue paper, which we weren’t supposed to do. I found myself less committed to the technique and more interested in just passing the time.

During the meditation sessions, I would often count down the minutes, break focus, and let my thoughts wander instead of returning to the technique. I started to resent the course, doubting why I had come in the first place, and I was eager for it to be over.

The 7 pm discourses were motivating, and each evening I would make renewed attempts to get back on track. But as the days dragged on, it became harder and harder to stay committed.

Breaking the silence (day 10):

On day ten, the silence finally broke after the first meditation session. As soon as it was over, people rushed out of the hall, and the noise of chatter filled the air. For some reason, I felt overwhelmed. I had gotten used to the silence and found comfort in it – I didn’t feel ready to re-enter the world of conversation. So, I stayed behind, avoiding eye contact and waiting for the noise to die down before I quietly slipped out and rushed back into my own room to lie down.

At 11 am, we had lunch, and I couldn’t skip it, having already missed breakfast. This forced me into socialising. The first person I spoke to was a guy who had done the course four times. I was still curious – what made him come back? He told me it had been incredibly beneficial for him. "Lucky for him," I thought, because I certainly hadn’t felt the same.

As more people began sharing their positive experiences, I realised I couldn’t relate. I felt detached from the collective enthusiasm and avoided further conversations, even going so far as to nap in my room during tea time.

Final day (day 11): 

On the last day, the teacher announced the schedule for our final session. We had to wake up at 4 am and be in the hall by 4:45 am. Reluctantly, I did as instructed, and made it to the final meditation sessions. It wasn’t until the closing meditation, which incorporated Metta (loving-kindness meditation), that I felt a slight shift – a warm sensation radiated through me. It was one of the first moments I felt any real sense of lightness, but I couldn’t help thinking it was just because I knew I was about to leave.

When the course ended, I was the first to pack up and leave. But just as I was about to rush out, something stopped me. People were looking up at the sky, and when I followed their gaze, I saw the most beautiful double rainbow spanning across the horizon.

At that moment, something changed. The warm sensation returned, but this time it felt real – like a sense of peace I had been searching for the whole time. I stood there, in awe of the rainbow, and for the first time, I felt truly present. All my frustration and resentment melted away, and I realised that maybe this was the revelation I had been waiting for all along.

Even though the course had been tough, even though I had my doubts and wanted to leave, that rainbow reminded me of the beauty in slowing down, being present, and appreciating the moment. The benefits I sought throughout the ten days didn’t come in the way I expected, but they did come, just when I was ready to leave.

A double rainbow spanned across the the entire sky as I was about to leave – this is just a glimpse of it from the corner. The pictures don't do it justice anyway and the other pictures had people's faces in.

Life After the Course: How Vipassana Affected Me

Immediate Impact

After the course ended, I was eager to leave and return to normal life. I had plans – KFC to satisfy cravings, a trip to the park to reflect, and a stop at the butcher for mutton to make mutton curry at home. Before heading off, I decided to make a donation. Since the course is entirely free, funded by donations, I felt it would be wrong not to contribute something.

As I waited in line, the person in front of me engaged in a long conversation with the donation handler. Though he had finished his payment, he kept talking, extending the my wait. I could feel myself starting to get agitated. However, I realised that I reacted differently than I would have before. Rather than getting frustrated or impatient, I remained calm and observed that perhaps he just needed to share his experience. This sense of patience was new to me, and I was able to keep my cool.

When it was finally my turn, I had a lovely conversation with the lady handling donations. I shared my experience of being a first-timer, and she shared her insights from years of Vipassana practice. I still had lingering doubts, so I asked if the practice had truly impacted her life. Her response stuck with me: “Just wait until you’re back in the real world and see the changes for yourself.”

Once I left, something strange happened. As soon as I started driving, music began playing in my car, and it sounded clearer, almost different. On the motorway, I felt unusually calm and focused – I wasn’t driving slowly, but I was completely alert, in a flow state. Normally, other drivers or traffic would irritate me, but this time, I navigated everything with a clear and peaceful mind. It felt like the best drive of my life.

That same morning, I went to Costa. Even though I was overcharged for my coffee and croissant (I paid £6.30 instead of the £4.99 meal deal), I didn’t feel upset like I normally would. The cashier looked like she was having a rough morning, and I decided not to make a fuss. It didn’t seem to matter. Interestingly, when I mentioned this to others, they suggested I should have spoken up, and maybe they were right.

Then, the next day, a similar incident occurred – I was charged twice for a single item at the DIY store. This time, I pointed out the mistake, but calmly and without any frustration. The cashier apologised, and I reassured him it was fine as he processed the refund. I even wished him a nice day, something I never used to do in such situations.

The overpriced Costa on the morning after I left the course, where the lady overcharged me but I didn't have a single care in the world and felt the most peaceful and calm I had ever felt. First time going on my phone after so long as well.

Small Moments of Change

The day after the course, I felt more peaceful and calm than ever before. Whilst driving, I noticed that I gave way to several drivers. Before Vipassana, I’d stopped doing this regularly – probably because people rarely say/gesture “thank you” where I'm living. When people didn't acknowledge my gesture, it didn’t bother me so much this time. Instead, I felt detached from any need for validation or gratitude. I was doing something kind, not for recognition, but just because I wanted to. It felt liberating.

In the days following, I experienced other small moments of clarity and perspective shifts. I felt gratitude for the people in my life and began seeing the world a little differently. These revelations, though subtle, felt profound.

Long-Term Effects

During those 10 days of meditation, it felt like my brain was rewired. However, those high moments of clarity and patience didn’t last forever. As I returned to the busyness of daily life, I noticed my mental “bucket” filling up again, and I started to revert to some old habits. 

I started becoming anxious, doubting whether the benefits I experienced were temporary. Yet, despite these doubts, I’ve seen enough change to know that with consistent practice, I can cultivate a more lasting sense of peace.

Changing deeply ingrained mental habits will take time and won't happen overnight, but this practice of Vipassana gave me hope. I’ve seen the physical and mental benefits firsthand, and I trust that sustained effort will lead to longer-lasting results.

What You Should Know Before You Go

I didn’t prepare much for my Vipassana course, aside from watching a few YouTube videos (linked above). What I didn’t realise beforehand was just how mentally challenging it would be to control your thoughts, impulses, cravings, and desires. I was okay with the silence, having lived alone in a studio flat for some time. But if you’re more extroverted or spend your days talking to people, the prolonged silence may be difficult to adjust to.

That said, it’s important not to go in with too many expectations. You don’t need to know much about the technique before attending because the teacher, Goenka, explains it thoroughly and gradually as the course progresses. The structure is designed to build your understanding day by day, so I didn't want to cover the actual technique in this post.

The most important thing to remember is that completing the course will be one of the best decisions you make for your life. While it’s incredibly hard, the mental and emotional rewards will make the experience worth it. However, it’s crucial not to expect these rewards, as everyone’s journey is different. Expectation might push away what you’re seeking, as I learned from my own experience.

How to Apply for a Vipassana Course

I did my course in Herefordshire, UK. You can apply for a spot on the Dhamma website. I applied in May for an August slot, and the spots fill up quickly, so make sure to apply early. Set reminders for when applications open.

How to Prepare for the Course & What to Pack

Mental and emotional preparation

Leading up to the course, I kept my usual 10-minute morning Headspace meditation. I didn’t do any hour-long sittings or change my diet – I went straight in and managed fine.

You don’t need to overhaul your life beforehand, but be prepared for a drastic lifestyle change: waking up very early, eating differently, remaining silent, and not having your phone. If you’re mentally ready for that shift, you’ll be fine.

Here’s what I brought along:

• Clothes: t-shirts, trousers, socks, underwear
• Hoodies
• Slippers
• Umbrella
• Watch (no smartwatches allowed)
• Alarm clock with AA battery
• Shaver (charge it beforehand)
• Electric toothbrush (also charge it beforehand)
• Toothpaste and dental floss
• Toiletries: shower gel, shampoo
• Towel
• Tissues
• Unscented deodorant
• Bedding: single sheet, duvet cover, pillowcase (they provide a mattress, duvet, and pillow but bring your own pillow if you prefer a certain firmness)

What I wish I’d packed:

• A portable charger (useful for the journey home)
• More clothes (it rained a lot during my course, so having enough for the whole stay would’ve been better)
• Eye drops (your eyes can get dry and itchy from having them closed so often)

Pre-course checklist:

• Inform people that you're in contact with that you’ll be offline to avoid any unnecessary worry.
• Charge your devices (phone, electric toothbrush, shaver, portable charger).
• Download offline maps since the centre is remote with poor signal.
• Turn off your phone’s alarms and put it on silent to prevent disruptions during the course.
• Backup your photos.
• If driving, fill your car with fuel beforehand.

Getting there:

The Dhamma website provides detailed travel directions. I drove, which was straightforward, and there’s parking available at the centre. If you’re not driving, be sure to check buses and plan your journey well in advance, as the centre is in a remote location.

Conclusion: My Final Thoughts

All in all, Vipassana was one of the best experiences of my life, and I highly recommend it. That’s why I’ve written this detailed post – to encourage others to take the plunge and help them prepare. I couldn’t find many resources online that went into this level of detail, so I hope this post has been helpful.

If you have any questions or need further clarification, feel free to comment below. Vipassana won’t fix all your life problems, but it will undoubtedly be one of the best decisions you make. Will I do it again? Absolutely. Despite telling myself I’d never come back during the tough moments, I’m so glad I stuck it out.

So, if you’re going, just know it will be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. But if you’re determined and committed, you’ll make it through the ten gruelling days – and if I can do it, you can too. Thanks for reading, and remember – this is just the beginning!