Retreat to rejuvenate

Sometimes, all you need is to get on to life's slow lane, cruise at minimum miles per hour and park at a scenic spot. The mind tires of planning, playing games, of being fearful. The body tires of secreting adrenaline to keep up with the mind. So, you occasionally feel a tad disoriented, not up to facing the traffic on the road or office. Your body doggedly refuses to budge even for a refreshing bath.

Well, you do know the antidote, yes? Stop planning. Stop being neurotically busy. Stop thinking that your world will end without your inputs. Something in you is crying for amnesty. Heed that call now. Recently, a friend went on a pilgrimage. As the aarti began, this friend suddenly started crying. “I couldn't stop. It went on for 10 minutes. It was embarrassing,” she said.

There's no call for embarrassment. It's better to release all the stored grief, anger, humiliations and tiredness through tears now than to fall ill later. It's a cry for cleansing oneself in mind and body. It's a cry for rest, nourishment, self-love. As it's said, “Education is when you read the fine print. Experience is what you get if you don't.”

Retreat from the world for a few days. Be assured that wherever you retreat to becomes a temple, a holy ground for healing. Remain unavailable until the energy surges up again.

In retreat, initially, you may feel pretty numb, disinclined to move, talk, respond. That's fine. This is the lull before the leisure, the quietude that demands solitude. This is the time that your higher self is pulling down the barriers of thought and sensation that were barricading you from your true priorities, from peace, from your greater inner power, from the sense of being relaxed that you sorely need.

The need of the moment is to stop the inner struggle. Just allow yourself to be. Like a drop of water is in a lake, be a speck of dust in the expanse of life. As a poet exhorted, “Don't reach a point where you need to hire a guide to experience the warmth of the sun.” Don't worry about sitting aimlessly. Just enjoy being where you are. Feel your stomach rise and fall as you breathe. Be with your every breath.

The breath is a wonderful teacher. Silently it shows how to do things with rhythm, with consistent grace, different from the way we do stuff mechanically and repetitively. Keep to your rhythm, it demonstrates, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, some work, some play, plenty of productivity and loads of love.

Watching your breath brings on immense relaxation. This happens because the mind loosens its grip on time and floats in eternity where one golden moment flows seamlessly into the next. It's mesmerising. You want to stay in it forever. Yet, when you come out of it, you come out singing and swinging, as fresh as a mountain spring.

But wait, don't go back to work yet. The mind rejoices, yes. Now give the body its moment to celebrate too. Take it for a walk where nature holds out her tranquil leafy hands. Walk with only joy as your companion. If you were invited to a castle for the weekend, and you walk into this beautiful room with deep, comfortable armchairs, soft footstools, fleecy rugs and a thoughtfully arranged tea-tray, you'd instantly know that everything had been specially prepared for your arrival. Similarly, as you walk in the fragrant outdoors, know that the world's many beautiful arrangements, the lush trees, the carpets of grass, the limpid lakes have all been carefully prepared for your happiness.

The secrets to a beautiful life without strain, stress, fatigue are elegantly simple:

Never hurry. In hasty, flustered action, you waste your finest of energies. Move at a medium pace and you'll be much more effective.

Take a break precisely when you think ‘I have so much to do'. Stop gripping the arms of your chair, creasing your forehead and biting your lip. Sink into your chair, let your neck loll, let your legs and arms hang limply, relax completely and forget what you have to do for five minutes. This is the best way to control your mind rather than let its neurosis run your life.

Be serenely steadfast at all times. When things appear to go wrong, stand like a rock and say, “Light, make me a conduit for peace and order so that I may help restore the eternal balance of things.” When the roots of a tree are deep and strong, then, during storms, a few twigs may fall, but the branches spread themselves to maintain the balance.

Strengthen your roots. Exercise and feel strength, flexibility, lightness pour into your body. Eat balanced meals with great appreciation and contentment — these two qualities lower satiety levels. Dissatisfaction raises satiety levels and makes you eat excessively. Sleep eight hours and wake up fresh and joyous. Meditate and feel a great peace settle in your heart, a deep knowing in your mind that with each passing day, you are healthier, happier, more active, rooted in a luminous unflappable calm.

The writer is co-author of the book ‘Fitness for Life'.

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