This year for my 32nd birthday I decided to gift myself a silent retreat. The original plan was to fly to Mexico for a 10 day retreat my friend recommended, however a week before my departure I received an e-mail saying it was cancelled due to a hurricane. The next day in therapy I mentioned the news and expressed how bummed I felt since I truly craved and needed these days to myself. A few minutes after the session ended I got a text from Taly (my therapist / life coach / mentor / spiritual guide… at this point it's hard to define) forwarding me the link to a retreat that just popped into her e-mail. I opened it, went straight to the payment link and without reading any details I booked it. Yep - that's how much I wanted (and needed) to be in silence and secluded in nature. I was burnt out.

The year leading up to this burnout was super intense - and magical. As always, there were a lot of transitions, experiences, movement and change. Exactly a year ago as I celebrated my birthday in Tel Aviv, I went to the beach alone to watch the sunset and reflect. 

I promised myself that this year I would grow 3 things: my team, my business, and my roots. 

As always, growth is a process, and part of it is welcoming and facing the growing pains that naturally arise with change. I had to resignify what freedom meant in this new context, and how in fact this growth would provide me with a rooted base that supports my freedom. After all - with freedom comes great responsibility. 

After experiencing a period of life filled with fire and air, this moment required water and soil. I literally had to get my hands dirty as I explored this process of rooting, and expanding, If you know me, you know I'm not afraid of change, challenges or dirt. I cringe at the thought of stagnant energy, mindless routine and constrained freedom. I understood with time it's the rituals that ground me, not routine. 

Fast forward to one year later - we are now a team of 5, we've expanded our clientele internationally, and I'm mainly based in my hometown São Paulo (door to door neighbor with my sister). The first thing I did when I moved into this apartment was to buy plants. Tons of plants and soil.

After all this growth and expansion, I felt a visceral desire to silence all that noise and movement around me - within me. To tune in to how my body and mind felt after all this change and expansion. On the way to the silent retreat the cab driver looked at me through the rear view mirror with a shocked expression and asked me "but aren't you afraid of silence Ale?" To which I replied "I'm afraid of noise, because that's when I can't hear myself." When he dropped me off he told me that if I changed my mind I could always call him to come pick me up earlier. I thanked him, and reassured him I would be fine.

I entered the simple and tidy room, put the few items of soft clothes I packed on the shelf, sat on the single bed and looked outside the window. The sky was blue and there was a light chilly wind blowing through the white linen curtains. I had enough time to answer last minute texts and shutt of my phone before the welcome meeting and meditation. As I turned off my phone (with a lot of hesitation), I realized how I no longer knew what it was like to live without one. I was actually scared of being totally offline, fearing I would miss something important. Nevertheless, I put it away and promised myself I would only touch it in the cab on my way back home.

It's hard to translate these silent days into words. Instead of trying to rationalize it, I decided to just let it sink in and live as a feeling. An inner knowing. A sense of deep peace and calm where I could actually feel and hear myself without any external influences. 

I had never experienced this before. I had no idea how I would react to sitting with myself in meditation, eyes closed, for hours on end. I was told to not even read my books! To just contemplate my surroundings, in silence. At first I was mortified, but within the first day I eased into it and understood this was truly a gift. 

I paid attention to the smallest details. The color and patterns of an apple, how the wind blows through the trees, the textures and taste of food, how the sun and rain felt on my face, the sound of waking up to bells instead of an alarm. Endless observations and sensations of simple everyday things that are so pure and natural - but that I've always been too busy or distracted to observe and value. When I left the retreat and turned on my phone, I was scared. I realized how much I actually miss out on - because of this phone. How much anxiety stems from an exorbitant amount of messages, e-mails, calendar reminders, alarms, social media, etc. 

I understood then that the same way I'm a minimalist when it comes to material things, I had to apply this minimalist mindset to how I treat my time and energy.