Expanding Mindfulness & Finding Clarity Through A Silent Meditation Retreat
- Marion Miller
- Jun 16
- 7 min read
It had been a whole two years since my last retreat, so I was really looking forward to this one. My intention was clear and strong: I wanted to dive deep into mindfulness of breathing, guided by the Buddhist teachings of the Ānāpānasati Sutta. I knew I needed some serious deep rest, and I wanted to properly sort through some of the thoughts that had been swirling around in my conscious and unconscious mind – especially those vivid dreams I'd been having. Plus, I had a big intention – to finally face a long-standing fear and do an "inquiry" process. Basically, I needed a deep reset to feel truly rested.
As we had our first meditation after dinner that Friday evening, I could feel myself slowly starting to arrive in the practice, curious about what lay ahead. It's pretty hard to just instantly drop into deep stillness after being immersed in a bustling city like Melbourne. But by day two, I was really getting into a deeply transformative, moment-to-moment experience, and all these unexpected memories, dreams, and insights just started to surface.
Sangsurya; A Mindfulness Meditation Sanctuary in the Tropics
Sangsurya in Byron Bay is hands down my favourite place to do a retreat in NSW. It's surrounded by this lush, tropical forest with views of the ocean, and when the whales are migrating, you can even spot them! Sangsurya has been generously hosting meditation and personal development retreats for over 30 years, and honestly, you can just feel the healing energy as soon as you step onto the land.
Our retreat was led by the incredible Subhana Barzaghi, Carol Perry, and Louise Taylor, with Sandi Middleton also offering authentic movement classes every day – which were amazing! Our schedule was packed but flowing: sitting meditation, a mindful work period, practice instructions with Q&A, walking meditation, authentic movement, Dharma talks, chanting, music, and poetry. The whole retreat revolved around the Ānāpānasati Sutta.

Now, Ānāpānasati simply means "mindfulness of breathing" (sati for mindfulness, ānāpāna for in-breath/out-breath). This is actually the very practice the Buddha himself used to attain enlightenment. The breath is chosen as the meditation object because it's always there, totally natural, and available to everyone, no matter what. It's not something you have to create or go looking for. So, the breath just serves as this constant anchor for our minds, which, let's be honest, love to wander! Every time your mind inevitably strays, gently bringing your attention back to the breath is the practice. That's where the real "learning" happens.
Stepping into Vulnerability
I came into this retreat with a powerful intention that had been nagging at me for over fifteen years: I really wanted to experience doing an "inquiry." If you're not familiar, an inquiry is a process unique to Insight Meditation retreats where a participant gets to talk about their practice with a teacher, openly, in front of the whole group.
For years, I'd just sat there, frozen in fear, watching others do it every time I went on retreat. But this time, I was determined to break through and give it a go. So, a person did their inquiry, and then there was a long break. All the usual fear came bubbling up. But I just decided it was time to do it. I got up, walked to the front of the room, and sat down.
As soon as I settled on the cushion, my heart just calmed right down, and I felt completely at ease. It definitely helped that the teacher, Subhana Barzaghi, is also my mentor and was even my marriage celebrant – her familiar presence made a huge difference. My fears were based on the typical stuff: being judged and not liking to be vulnerable in public. It’s a common fear, especially for practitioners who are often the ones helping others be vulnerable. I honestly thought the whole thing would be awkward, and I'd probably have some kind of anxiety or panic attack. But once I was there, a strong sense of calm just washed over me.

Subhana gently talked me through the inquiry, helping me understand the fear better. She showed me how I was projecting my own critical thoughts onto others, and how that was keeping me stuck. Then came a really big 'aha!' moment: she said it's not about self, or other, but rather the awareness of both. This hit me hard – to be in front of everyone, actually practicing, and connecting from that awareness of our interconnection. It was such a valuable experience to face my fear and then move beyond it, right into a place of deep love and belonging. The silence of the retreat really helped me find the courage to speak, and in doing so, I felt incredibly liberated.
Dreams Whispering from the Unconscious
My second big insight happened that very evening, and it arrived in the form of a powerful dream. In the main part of the dream, I opened a door, and there was a four-year-old girl with a confused look on her face. She just said "mummy," like she was slightly relieved I'd found her. I picked her up and held her close, so grateful to be reunited. Right at that moment, I realised I needed to deeply nourish this child in a truly maternal way.
I reflected on that dream all day in my meditation. I started to believe this dream symbolised my inner child, specifically related to a very difficult time in my life during my parents' separation. My mother, at age four, had fled post-war torn Germany, and her family carried those generational traumas of war, which she continued to struggle with throughout her adult life. I was only four when my parents' conflict escalated and they separated, and those are such formative years, even if I have no explicit memory of them.
Subhana mentioned something in one of her Dharma talks: a child around four looks in the mirror for the first time and feels delight at their own appearance, but the very next emotion they feel is grief, because they recognise they are separate. In my meditations on the body, I became really sensitive to this realisation: the fear I often find disabling now had a place within my own body-mind.
The next evening, I also had another dream of deep, black water. This image has been a recurring one in my dreams for decades, since childhood. A state of terror swept over me in the dream, but again, it was just deep, dark water. Upon reflection, it wasn't that scary. But what occurred to me was that this water might have symbolised something unimaginably vast and deep that I was somehow separated from. In hindsight, it's not that scary now, but maybe it was to a four-year-old who didn't have the worldview I do now.
These dreams became the challenges I worked with in my sitting practice. For a while, there was some agitation, and my practice felt quite cold and difficult. The struggle with my restless mind during those initial meditations really highlighted the dukkha (suffering) of resistance. But simply returning to the breath offered immediate relief and a glimpse of cessation. As my awareness deepened and my mind settled, my body naturally calmed. This is just a natural byproduct of sustained mindfulness. In that deep silence, I started to truly notice that the breath was simply happening, rather than 'I' was making it happen. This quieted that internal chatter of 'me' and 'mine.'

The Heart's Gentle Unfurling – Metta and Mentorship
I was lucky enough to have two interviews during the retreat, the first with Carol and the second with Subhana. How fortunate was I to get time with these two legends and divas of the Dharma!
Through these interviews, we really unpacked my dreams and insights. It became super clear that I needed to nourish this inner child part of me that I had, quite successfully, kept hidden away. During my meditations, I started to notice a tight feeling, a constriction around my heart. Through the breath, I was able to breathe in more compassion and equanimity (Metta). My heart softened, and then my whole body relaxed, and this incredible tranquility (Passaddhi) just washed over me from head to toe.
The miracle of this practice is how this softening and allowing just naturally arose. My practice of unwavering calm increased, with the breath remaining my solid anchor. It was like I could just sit there, allowing all these causes and conditions to exist in choiceless awareness, without being attached to any of it. It felt truly delightful. My sense doors were open, and I could gently start to experience a real letting go. The breath, in its continuous arising and passing, became a living lesson on anicca (impermanence), showing me that nothing truly stays the same.
Embracing Impermanence
The emotional challenges for me really revolved around shame, fear, and grief. As I witnessed these stories and bodily sensations swirling around in my mind, it gave rise to this deepening awareness – an awareness that became aware of itself. Beyond just finding acceptance and compassion, there was a deeper letting go of clinging to this identity, and a full embrace of impermanence. Tinged with both a quiet grief and a deep peace, the insights into my own suffering and the true nature of reality came into clear focus, bringing with them an incredibly liberating sense of being truly present.
The retreat environment, being free from external distractions and upholding those basic ethical principles, really fostered the perfect conditions for deep inner work. Leaving the retreat, I felt genuinely opened up to the mystery of life. All this creative potential lay ahead of me, and as I breathe into the tender heart of awareness in each moment, I've been able to connect with mindfulness in a new way.
The retreat itself is this wonderful, fertile space for concentrating the mind and fostering insights. But the "real" work of integration truly happens after the retreat, in everyday life. As we slowly headed home to Victoria, our hearts and minds felt full of love, carrying those silent echoes of deep transformation.
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