The Quiet Mirror: What Silence Reveals

“Oh no, she really doesn’t like me.”

There it was again—that disapproving look from a fellow retreater from Lithuania. It was day five in silence, and my mind latched onto it like velcro, spinning stories. What did I do wrong? Why does she look at me like that?

And just like that, I was off—spiraling into obsessive thinking.

I was in Italy, on a silent yoga and meditation retreat. Everything was beautifully held: nourishing meals, cozy accommodation, and the gentle guidance of master teachers. The outer world was serene, but inside, my mind was anything but quiet.

Silence, though, has a way of catching us mid-spin. It’s not just the absence of sound—it’s a sacred space, a mirror that reflects our inner landscape with startling clarity.

In silence, we get to see the patterns, the wounds, the stories we carry—and how they shape the way we interpret the world.

Yet we often approach silence like a task to be completed. We set lofty intentions: “I’ll figure out my life,” “I’ll finally heal,” “I’ll emerge transformed.” And while these aspirations are noble, perhaps the deepest gift of silence is far simpler:

To be with ourselves, just as we are.

To observe.

To Listen.

To surrender.

On my retreat last week with Sarah and Ty Powers, I experienced this firsthand.

I was convinced the Lithuanian woman didn’t like me. My mind raced: Was it my clothes? My yoga practice? The way I ate at meals? I obsessed over every detail, trying to decode her expression.

But when the retreat ended and we finally spoke, she turned out to be warm, kind—and even told me how much she loved Irish people! She also shared how difficult the retreat had been for her. She’d spent days reliving a painful argument with her husband and had come to the realization that she needed to end the relationship. She was heading back to Lithuania to begin that process.

I was stunned. She too was suffering.

In that moment, something softened in me. I saw how my own low self-worth had colored my perception, how I’d projected my insecurities onto someone else. I realized how easily I can misinterpret others when I'm caught in my own pain.

That retreat left me with a profound truth: we are all suffering, and awakening, together. And that truth cracked something open in me.

I cried the whole plane ride home to Ireland—not out of sadness, but from a deep, tender recognition of our shared humanity. The pain, the beauty, the longing to be seen and understood—it’s all part of the tapestry of being human.

This year's silent didn’t give me all the answers. But it gave me something far more precious:

A tender view of myself.

A deeper compassion for others.

And a gentle reminder of my own basic goodness.

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If you'd like to explore Silence, please join us at our New Year's Silent, Yoga and Meditation Retreat in Mendocino County, CA on 29 Dec- 1 Jan, 2026.

There are only 2 spots left!!