At the age of 60, I made a pivotal decision that would transform my life and shape the person I am today.

As 2018 drew to a close, I found myself at the helm of a manufacturing and design firm, working exhausting hours as its public face, constantly on a tightrope.

The environment was incredibly demanding, with relentless delivery pressures in a field dominated by men.

At the same time, I was raising two teenagers, perpetually wrestling with feelings of guilt.

My children required my attention on multiple fronts, and while I was eager to fulfill their needs, support their ambitions, and shower them with attention, I also wanted to stand by my husband as we pursued our shared dream of building a business.

Both roles were deeply significant to me, and I often felt torn between them, striving to give my all in every aspect of my life.

My mother had just died too, a grieving process that had brought up memories of never feeling good enough.

Life was on ‘go’, all the time, never with a moment to myself, and my body was telling me to slow down. 

 Alison Weihe attended a 10-day silent retreat with her daughter and found it to be life-changing

The retreat offered her a chance to look inwards—something she had been scared to do 

I got very ill with shingles the last three months of 2018 and knew something had to change.

My daughter had previously been on two silent retreats. She hadn’t exercised, talked, or been on her phone. 

Seeing how stress was affecting me, she suggested I do the same, but I told her I was terrified of the prospect of it.

I didn’t want to unpick my past, uncovering old scabs and bleeding from wounds I had thought healed.

But she insisted, and to build a bond with her, I signed up for a ten-day silent retreat at a Vipassana centre a 90-minute drive from our home in Cape Town, South Africa. 

Vipassana is an ancient form of silent meditation where you objectively observe your thoughts and any physical sensations, becoming a non-judgemental bystander in your own mind.  

I gave her my word that I would stay for the entire time, no matter how hard I found it.

I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to use my phone, so I made sure everyone—friends, family, and business associates—knew I wouldn’t be contactable.

When I walked into the centre, I handed the staff my phone, the first time I’d parted with it in years. I only brought a bag of clothes with me—nothing else.

Alison was encouraged to give the retreat a go by her daughter

Dhamma Pataka is a 90-minute drive from Cape Town, South Africa

Alison spent 10 days in total silence as she went on a mission to find herself, aged 60

As hard as it was not to have my phone, it wasn’t what I feared most—not being able to exercise was. 

I had come to depend on movement as a means of decompression, even keeping weights in the back of my car when I needed to squeeze in a quick workout.

During those ten days, I couldn’t even practice yoga, as I was told that meditation through stillness was paramount.

Writing and reading were prohibited too, both activities I usually did in the evenings to quiet my mind before bed.

Normally an extravert, I couldn’t speak to the 30 other people on the retreat with me. There were so many times I wanted to talk to someone about what I had been processing or ask them about their own experience. Even this wasn’t an option.

With all of my coping mechanisms stripped away, I was faced with silence, only my own thoughts.

We rose early in the morning for meditation that lasted on and off all day, broken up with small, vegetarian meals, and a short evening seminar.

We sat silently, ate silently, moved silently.

Alison struggled for the first few days, but went on to have an emotional breakthrough

The retreat demands complete silence for the entirety of your stay 

The centre is located in a tranquil location near Cape Town 

In the first few days, I was in agony from sitting so still. My back throbbed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how long it had been since I had moved. 

While I had practiced meditation previously, I had never done it consistently, or for long periods of time—I had just squeezed it into my insanely paced schedule.

But by the sixth day, I could sit unmoving, meditating for three hours at a time, only watching curtains swaying in the wind.

While I struggled to sleep in the nights at the start of the ten days, without reading and writing to send me to sleep, by the end, I quickly drifted away to the sound of silence.

I navigated new patterns, gently forcing my body into a different normal – one that was slow and quiet. I’d been stripped of structures for survival and had to find new ways to survive, ways only found in myself.

In the silence, there is only so much thinking you can do, before your brain just quiets. 

I spent the first days thinking through questions, memories, critiques, and plans, but eventually, it all emptied out, and I was left with nothingness, just space. 

I found a deeper subconsciousness, one that was slow and authentically me. 

Through stillness without words, I shed all the emotional baggage, anxiety and depression I’d entered the retreat with.

By the end of ten days, my body and mind were quiet, something I’d never experienced previously. 

I felt a crystal-clear understanding of why I was on the earth—to tell my story—which I have done time and time again since leaving, through work and relationships. 

It became the foundation of everything I do.