Three participants from the Silence Retreat in the Netherlands held at the Beukenhof (former) Monastery, The Netherlands from 19- 26 September 2025 shared their experiences. All the participants are initiates within the Himalayan Tradition.

Experience Sharing by Dirk Gysels – It was an experiment….but it was needed.

In our hectic lives, 4 or 5 days of silence was too brief. Our bodies and minds need more.

So the bold decision was made to extent the silence to a full week.

And it was such a relief to allow oneself to go inside, to shut down the outward senses of cognition and action for an extended period. We all have our stories why it felt so good. Mine is not the most inspiring. I booked the week at a time not knowing that my karma would visit me at the end of June with a full-blown infarct. I am well again, but the scars are there, not in the least on an emotional and energetic level.

But the deep healing happened. It seemed that all the poses, the relaxations, the meditations, akhanda japa, Yoga Nidra… were the things my body-mind needed right now.

It felt that my body ‘knew’ that it had a full week to go into deeper healing. So a lot came up: sadness, fear, anger, loneliness, behavioral traits that do not serve my awakening into what I really am, insights… I tried to talk to my mind in a friendly way when things became too confronting….

By the end of the week, I felt a new light, a deeper strength shining through….The turning point was the akhanda japa and the long yoga nidra right before the start.
And magic happened. So grateful to all who made it happen!

I was also asked to share an anecdote i told in the closing circle in the end of the retreat:

I shared the following memory:

In the spring of 2003, Swami Veda came to Holland for a retreat of about 5 days. On a certain day he introduced silence. But after the silence of the first day and Swamiji’s evening-satsang, a few of us stayed on. Then the joking began. We had great fun. After about half an hour, footsteps could be heard on the staircase. In came Swami Veda in his pyjama’s, followed by Pandit Ananta (Swami Ritavan).

Swamiji was not angry but his words cut like a knife. ‘I cannot be angry at the new ones here, they do not know better. But you (Swamiji pointing at someone who later became a well-known Swami in the tradition), you should know better!….

This was the end of the fun.

I will be back…

Experience Sharing by Jane Cox

Jane Cox read in the closing circle from her journal writings: Confession

I’ve never been able to retain song lyrics; even my eight-syllable mantra took nearly a year to settle into memory. However hard I try, I’m terrible at learning mantra. Maybe it’s my age, but what emerges is more word salad than sacred chant—a jumble of good intentions hopelessly out of order.

So, after an early morning session of Akhanda Japa, I neither felt inclined – nor, to be honest, wanted – to do another.

Instead, I took a contemplative walk, then a long one, then a brisk one, before retreating to the safety of my bedroom. And, as often happens when a holiday draws to a close, my mind drifted toward home: train times and the inevitable empty fridge.

I decided to check in our flights and–oops–like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, I found myself on a magical mystery tour of social media.

The evening japa became an alarming combination of the scrambled mantra colliding with a thought explosion of algorithms: Gaza, ginger root recipes, Trump blaming pregnant women for autism–and, layered on top, an inner debate with Pierre about the moral and ethical dilemma of remaining silent, of accepting this seemingly unjust world as purnam.

It reminded me of the experiment of giving different drugs–marijuana, speed, coke–to spiders and seeing the effect of their web-making skills. It was messy.

So I apologise if, energetically, there was a noisy mosquito buzzing in the japa room last night.

And yet, it was a valuable experiment. I’m deeply grateful to the wise and wonderful tutors and the compassionate, gentle group who have created this special, playful space. I learnt that mantra is an anchor the minefield of my distracted thoughts.

And thank you, Ma Tripura. Your beautiful meditation this morning brought me back to stillness.

It’s only when you lose it that you realise how precious it truly is.

Experience Sharing by Riemke de Groot

During our retreat last week, I was asked this question by Pierre Lefebvre, and given the microphone, to share my experience with the group. The question came unexpected, but the words that came out of the mouth for an answer surprised me even more. When I wanted to tell about many years of yoga retreats, I suddenly realized something different. And this was my answer:

I practiced silence from a very early age, every Sunday for a minute or so, in the church services I was attending with my parents and siblings. After chanting the first hymn, the reverend would say: “Let us become silent before the Lord, our God.” And we stood… still… eyes closed, hands folded. I somehow felt that the moment was sacred. It was also mysterious, exciting, weird. And sometimes hilarious when someone coughed, a hymnbook fell to the floor or someone came in late, and all turned to see what happened. But most of all I remember the sacredness of the spoken formula and the following silence, that seemed always too short to my taste. And in the moment I gave this answer, I realized that these early silence practice is the fundament of all silence retreats that followed.

In the retreat, during the meditations afterwards, I let this realization sink deep into my mind and started every meditation by inviting my mind: “Let’s become silent for the Lord, our God.” And a reservoir of silence, hidden deep inside, seemed to open up, The word ksetrikavat from the Yoga Sutras (4.3) came to my mind. The verse of the farmer who does nothing new or different, but just breakes the dyke so the water that is already there can flow free. In this way I felt a flood of silence flowing through me. My meditation got to a new depth.

Then I also remembered the words that were always spoken in church after the silence, holding just as much sacredness as the silence:
“Our help is in the name of the Lord, Who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 124: 8)
Who remains faithful forever, (Psalm 146: 6)
And does not abandon the work of His hands.” (Psalm 138: 8)

Different Tradition, different words, different symbolism – but the Bhava, the sentiment is the same: Our lives are held by THAT, by Guru’s grace, full of fullness, always and everywhere, beyond place and time. Amen. AUM.