Get stuff done! That was my LinkedIn tagline - and for years, it summed me up. Not only did I get things done, I prided myself on being the best at it. But as I grew in life, I realized something uncomfortable: success was no longer just about the output. It meant navigating people, managing perceptions, and amplifying your personal brand in a remote-first world. I’d always been a strong team player, but the constant posturing left me drained.
At the same time, I was becoming more aware of how my restless mind worked. I was seeking mindfulness in my daily life and craving a challenge unlike anything I’d done before. On paper, I had everything society defines as “success”, yet something still felt missing. My mind reminded me of that constantly, like blaring metal music I couldn’t turn off. I needed to quiet the noise. I wanted a reset - a chance to pause, step away from the grind, and test myself in a different way. Not against deadlines or pressure, but against silence itself. Could I sit face-to-face with my own wild mind and endure the mental agitation that lay within? Could I master it?
That’s what led me to Vipassana. I will write more later about the logistics, where I went and how my stay was; along with my body stats from FitBit and how there’s hard, tangible truth to the benefits I lay out here.
Vipassana is one of the most ancient forms of meditation from India, rediscovered and taught by the Buddha more than 2,500 years ago as a path to liberation from suffering. At its heart, Vipassana is about seeing reality as it truly is - not through the lens of craving, aversion, or illusion, but through direct observation of the mind-body. The Buddha taught that suffering (dukkha) arises because we crave pleasant experiences and reject unpleasant ones. This constant cycle of liking/disliking keeps us agitated and bound to old mental patterns (saṅkhāras). Vipassana trains us to observe sensations and thoughts objectively, without reacting. By scanning the body and watching sensations (pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral), we realize they all share one characteristic: Impermanence (anicca): Every sensation arises and passes away. All we need to do is observe that impermanence, and watch them fade away - like vicissitudes of lie.
Normally, sensations trigger automatic reactions:
Pleasant → craving → attachment.
Unpleasant → aversion → resistance.
Vipassana interrupts this loop. When you calmly observe sensations, without reacting, you weaken the old habit of blind reaction and instead develop equanimity (a balanced mind). Vipassana doesn’t stop pain, criticism, or challenges from happening - it changes your relationship with them. You stop fueling craving and aversion, so the mind becomes more balanced, resilient, and compassionate.
The silence was deafening at first. My mind raced, not sure what to expect in the next 10 days, eager to Google/chatGPT so many things to satiate my curiosity. But there was none of that. I had just one objective - to get past 10 days. The discourses were helpful especially early on and reminded me that I am here for 10 days, so might as well surrender to the technique of Vipassana and give it my best shot, be the best student. Slowly but eventually, with each breath and body scan, I realized how much of my life I’d lived on autopilot - reacting, overthinking, rushing. Slowly I started to see a certain form of calmness and patience taking over me. My mind was becoming sharper and focussed. My visualizations became stronger through visualizing my inner self as I scanned through my body wth my mind.
Determination
One of the hardest parts of Vipassana was sitting in the same posture for hours without moving. My body screamed for relief, but the practice demanded patience and discipline. This wasn’t about punishing myself, but about cultivating inner strength - the ability to endure discomfort without giving in to every impulse. In the tradition, this quality is called Adhiṭṭhāna, or “strong determination.” Vipassana appealed to my inner drive to push through challenges - not by doing more outside, but by enduring stillness inside. It became a way to channel the same grit I’d relied on in my career and athletics (football, running, workouts) into mental and emotional strength. The retreat wasn’t about chasing success, but about proving to myself: I can stay. I can endure. I can see this through. That experience deepened my understanding of resilience - showing me it isn’t only about grinding through deadlines, but also about stillness, restraint, and willpower.
Disconnection & Perspective
Being completely disconnected for 10 days showed me that life carries on without my constant involvement. The world didn’t stop spinning because I wasn’t answering emails, joining meetings, or “getting stuff done.” That realization dissolved a big part of my ego - the pressure of feeling indispensable. In its place came a sense of freedom: if the world goes on without me, then I can also go on without clinging so tightly to it.
Breaking the Autopilot Loop by Observing Instead of Reacting
Vipassana trained me to observe sensations, thoughts, and emotions without reacting. It broke the autopilot cycle of craving, resisting, or spiraling and gave me a tool I now carry into daily life: pause, notice, and then choose my response instead of reacting blindly. It transformed mindfulness from an abstract idea into a practical skill I can actually apply.Building Equanimity, Not Attachments
At one point, I questioned: “How could I go on if I was equanimous toward all the good things in life that drive me forward?” Vipassana clarified that equanimity doesn’t mean rejecting joy, ambition, or love. As householders, not monks, we still need desire, purpose, and love to fuel our daily lives. The distinction lies in attachment: I can love without clinging, pursue goals without being consumed by them, and enjoy life without fear of losing it. This reframed equanimity as balance, not withdrawal, and liberated me from the fear that detachment meant isolation. Instead, it revealed a healthier way to relate to both ambition and relationships.From Reactivity to Responsibility
Before Vipassana, I often slipped into a victim mindset - believing others “made me angry” or that situations “caused my stress.” The practice showed me that these emotions don’t come from outside, but arise within, triggered by my own reactions. By observing sensations instead of reacting blindly, I learned to take ownership of my responses. Life stopped feeling like something happening to me, and became something I could meet with awareness and balance.Dissolution of my Ego
In silence, stripped of work and validation, I saw how much of my suffering came from ego. The restless “blaring metal music” in my mind was fueled by self-importance, and even sitting still became a battle with pride and control. As I observed unpleasant sensations, especially across my back, I could also see them dissolve. In the same way, my ego began to dissolve too. The breakthrough came when I realized the world doesn’t stop spinning without me. That insight loosened the ego’s grip and reframed ambition - not as something to cling to, but as something to pursue with humility, balance, and compassion.
Discipline & Surrender
The retreat demanded a rare balance: the discipline to follow a strict timetable, sit still through hours of meditation, and keep silence - and the surrender to let go of control, comfort, and constant “doing.” At first, the rigidity felt punishing, but over time it became liberating. Discipline created structure; surrender created space. Together, they taught you that real growth often comes not from bending life to your will, but from yielding to the process with trust and patience.
Sleep, Rest & Energy
Sleep during Vipassana was short and functional - around 6 to 6.5 hours a night, with the 4:00 a.m. gong jolting us awake. At first, I doubted whether it would be enough. But I soon realized exhaustion wasn’t the real barrier - restlessness was. Once the mind stopped thrashing against itself, I noticed something surprising: I actually had more energy through the day. With fewer reactions to constant stimuli, the mind wasted less energy, leaving me clearer and lighter even on limited sleep. It was proof that real rest doesn’t come only from hours in bed, but from the quality of your mind while awake.
Cohesive Thoughts & Mental Clarity
As the days went on, I noticed my thoughts becoming more cohesive and my mind sharper. Without relying on external visualization tools like vision boards or productivity hacks, I was able to access clarity directly from within. The practice built a new kind of self-control, not about forcing thoughts into order, but about allowing the mind to settle naturally so ideas could emerge with precision. That inner discipline carried over into daily life, giving me a stronger sense of control over my actions, choices, and focus.
Loosening the Body, Loosening the Mind
During Vipassana, I realized how much tension I carried in my face, head, back, and hips. Sitting still and observing sensations made me aware of how solidified and heavy these parts of my body felt. As I observed them, especially my back, it was as if knots were slowly unraveling. The pain was sharp at first, but then it dissolved completely leaving no trace. Later, on the long drive home after the 10-day course, I had a pounding headache. By simply observing the aching areas in my head with the same awareness, the pain disappeared. It felt almost magical - proof enough for me that this practice works miracles.Love & Compassion
After enduring the silence and confronting my restless mind, what emerged wasn’t emptiness but compassion - for myself and for others. Vipassana teaches mettā bhāvanā (loving-kindness meditation), which softened the experience and reminded me that the end goal isn’t just self-mastery, but connection. It shifted my mindset from control and achievement to gentleness, empathy, and shared humanity. I came away realizing that strength isn’t only endurance - it’s also compassion.
Looking back, Vipassana wasn’t just ten days of silence — it was a turning point. It dissolved layers of ego, showed me the power of equanimity, and reminded me that strength can mean stillness as much as grit. The biggest lesson was that peace isn’t something to chase — it’s something you uncover when you stop reacting and simply observe. I didn’t come out of Vipassana “fixed” or perfectly calm, but I came out with a toolkit: determination, compassion, balance, and clarity. The world will keep spinning, but I no longer feel the need to spin with it at full speed. And in that pause, I found the space to live more fully.