Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me…  This children’s phrase has been around since the 1800’s, I think mainly to dissuade physical retaliation to name-calling or verbal bullying. Lovely in theory, but possibly the most misleading idiom I’ve ever known.

Words DO hurt. Sometimes they leave far deeper and long-lasting scars than any superficial physical wound will. Sadly, I wasn’t taught any expressions that would help me to remember this as I grew up. Nor, do I believe, were my parents – or even theirs.

As we know, the people whose words create the most damage are within our closest networks. My parents were very young when I came along, so you can’t really help them for their lack of knowing better, but still… The words that came out of their mouths created a lot of the insecurities, beliefs and prejudices that I have had to work hard to change.

According to my very vocal and opinionated father:

• Nothing is more unsightly than a woman with flabby triceps. Unless it is a flat or saggy bottom.
• My mother (and women) should wear make-up, have hair perfectly coiffed and dress presentably 24/7, so as to not look like a slob.
• I (apparently) had chicken legs as a child.
• You shouldn’t laugh loudly like an idiot.
• Eating with your mouth open or making any kind of noise with your mouth is disgusting.
• Flying Singapore Airlines meant that you didn’t get middle-aged women with fat ankles walking up and down the aisles….

The list is truly endless. These types of words were recorded in my mind before I was a teenager. And as one can imagine, these cycles of learned behaviour continue through generations if we let them. (NB: I have managed to maintain the loudest laugh of anyone I know – perhaps that was my form of rebelling. 🙂 )

Many of you may also note that I have been similarly liberal with sharing the opinions I’ve held, always thinking that honesty was the best policy. While I certainly don’t condone the negative things that used to (and likely still does) come out of my father’s mouth; I never considered that telling people what I thought could hold so much power or leave a scar. Out of anger, out of hurt, out of insecurity, out of passion… I’ve said many things over the years that I regret – more so now, than ever.

2015 was a challenging year for me. I had experienced so much fun and excitement the previous year, but it had all left me feeling a bit empty. I was still traveling a lot for work in a job where I was emotionally unfulfilled; and many friendships were taking on the Teflon sheen of superficiality. As a consequence, I was becoming more unhappy and conscious of the things I was saying, and started to venture a bit more into myself so as to avoid social gatherings where I could be judged – in particularly for blurting something out after too many wines.

It was around the middle of the year that I decided enough was enough and it was time to take control of my life. I began the scary journey of uncovering my childhood traumas and getting to the root of why I still wasn’t “living the life I love” – a promise made from a failed (and overpriced) “Lightening Process” course I was recommended.

After a few months of diving deep into therapy, uncovering and addressing issues that I’m sure many children of young, divorced families have; my life and happiness started to take shape again. I had met an amazing man. I was adamant that I would begin looking for a new role that would bring me greater satisfaction and work/life balance. I had identified the quality people in my life who shared the same values and genuinely cared about me… I felt a renewed hope for the future.

Well, sadly this was short-lived, as the most important lesson I still had yet to learn saw me saying things that I would only realise, in hindsight, was better left unsaid.

With a  broken heart and the desire to run away, I thought  perhaps a Vippassana Meditation course would be something I should try out. A chance to truly reflect on my life during 10 days of silence, with nothing but my thoughts.  Well, thank goodness there were no courses available over the holidays – 11 hours a day of solid meditation with no reading, writing, activities… That would have been a little extreme for my first experience I think.

I then started googling meditation retreats and came across a 7-day silent yoga retreat in Chiang Mai that would take place over the new year. Perfect – I could be alone with my thoughts, get a tan, tone up a little and forget about everything in Singapore! Or at least, that’s what I thought was awaiting me.

After reading reviews and liaising with Uriel, one of the instructors from Mahasiddha Yoga, I felt adventurous enough to give it a go and booked my flights. I then wrote my family to let them know what I was doing since I wouldn’t be able to wish them a ‘Happy New Year’ while I was there, and promised my grandmother that I wouldn’t return a vegan hippy. 🙂

I was pretty excited for the unknown and felt confident when I sent my final 2015 Facebook update before getting on the plane:

Happy New Year in advance family & friends! While you’ll be celebrating, I’ll be halfway through a week-long silent yoga retreat.
It’s highly likely that I’ll always laugh too loudly, be awkwardly honest and drink too much; and here’s to loving myself enough to not caring as much if it displeases you.
I’m looking forward to a quieter 2016 – one with a focus on quality, not quantity. See you good eggs then! Xxx

Damn Facebook. This post, specifically the part about always being awkwardly honest and not caring who it displeased, annoyed me and created distractions from my very first day of what would prove to be the biggest learning experience of my life! As I was intent on keeping my phone in ‘flight mode’ for the duration of my stay at the Ashram, I couldn’t do anything other than wish I hadn’t written what I did.

Why? Well, as we entered into silence after an insightful first day of lectures on the ego and the soul (our busy judgmental mind and our inner most core of who we truly are respectively), it became so much clearer on where I had been going wrong.

• Words are potent.
• Words have great meaning and take up a lot of energy.
• Once said, words can’t be taken back.
• Talking triggers the mind into action.

It hit me like a tonne of bricks. Words I had used and opinions I had openly expressed had been keeping me in a perpetual state of hell. Criticising myself, family, friends, lovers, even taxi drivers – did nothing but disturb the inner equilibrium I was so desperate to obtain. The readily available stockpile of words that I wouldn’t think twice about using before, suddenly seemed to contribute to the majority of conflicts or issues I ever had in my adult life – internal and external. Amazing.

Did I really need to share an opinion that may cause sadness, anger or frustration? Why? Where did that opinion come from – was it from my heart, which is kind and loving? Or was it from a place of judgement and dissatisfaction? What about the statements I would say to myself that did nothing but diminish my confidence or create doubt? These reflections (and more) became an important part of my self-discovery over the remaining time spent learning in silence.

By the end of the week, I no longer cared about what I had written on Facebook – it was my ego that was bothered, not my soul. Still, it was no longer a reflection of my true feelings as I do care about displeasing people – I care deeply about the happiness of the people in my life. And to quote Mahatma Gandhi, “happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony”.

Thanks to what was taught and experienced during the retreat, I knew that I would do my best to discontinue using words that didn’t have some genuine benefit to me or my (and others’) happiness – not from my ego’s perspective, but from my heart. I believe this is an important piece of the puzzle that I had been missing. And since I’ve finally found it, I expect all of you to hold me accountable.

Namaste.