Turn off, tune out and really live again
Three days, a teen and NO technology is a big ask, but Laura Lynott revelled in it
It is not often that one could claim a mini-break changed their perspective on life. Could a yoga retreat in one of the most tranquil corners of Ireland, cut off from the outside world, produce such an effect? decided to take a weekend trip to the Burren Yoga and Meditation Centre in Kinvara, Co. Galway, to de-stress – but was not too sure if it was a wise idea to take my 14-year-old daughter along knowing that two days without TV and checking social networks, Instagram and Tumblr, could prove a recipe for potential teen disaster?
We arrived a little late due to rush hour traffic in Dublin on Friday night but were just in time to introduce ourselves to a room full of strangers – a mix of teachers, a lecturer and a health worker, all partaking in a little 21st Century soul searching.
Within 10 minutes of meditating in the yoga room listening to the relaxing, comforting voice of Rachel Beare, our teacher, I felt the weight of the world slip away. Bills, traffic jams, deadlines, school runs and Monday morning’s concerns all vanished as I was transported to a calm space.
Meanwhile my daughter admitted the Junior Cert and mocks she had just sat had never been further from her mind.
However Rachel, a very experienced teacher who offers classes in Lismore, Co. Waterford, soon turned the pressure up and reminded us we weren’t just there to float away on a cloud of serenity.
Saturday morning’s beginner’s guide to yoga and core strengthening at 8am sharp soon informed me that the more relaxed form of Hatha yoga – which I have practised over the years – was not going to be on offer this weekend.
Introducing the class to the more vigorous Ashtanga yoga exercises, Rachel bent and contorted her body into all sorts of shapes and waited as we, some complete beginners and others more experienced yogis, were plunged into a fitness session that came as a shock to my body – more at home sitting at a computer screen with feet flat on the floor.
The ‘ plank’ involves holding up your body by your hands, in a straight line, and pushing the bottom half of the body upward with the toes. It may not seem a tough posture to master but having to practise it repeatedly ensured it rapidly became the most hated move within the group which soon referred to it as ‘punishment’ or ‘walking the plank’.
On the other hand the sun salutation – a sequence of bends, stretches and lunges leading to a prayer movement arching up towards the sky – was perfect for the morning and really helped awaken the body and mind.
Most of the moves I had practised before but having suffered an ankle injury I found it difficult to balance for some poses. Rachel was always there, encouraging me and even guiding me as to how best I could strengthen my ankle over time.
I had also hurt my back practising a particularly tricky yoga move in the days before the course. Under Rachel’s guidance I did a body twist, shunting my torso from one side to another with my arms and shoulders flat on the floor and the pain suddenly evaporated.
Another bonus of the weekend was my growing sense of pride in my daughter as I realised I was putting her through one of the toughest experiences of her young life – while many teenagers her age were at home for mid-term watching TV and eating fatty treats.
She surprised me though as she got up at 7.30am sharp for 8am classes with enthusiasm and admitted she found meditation particularly helpful to find a serene escape from her worries.
I was surprised to hear from the centre’s owner, Dave Brocklebank, a practising Buddhist, that it is rare for parents to bring children to the course. He could only recall one 14-year-old child having attended since the facility’s opening in 1999.
Perhaps the fear that taking teenagers away from their iPads and iPhones may create war rather than peace is overpowering.
If this was a social experiment, then I am pleased to report my teenager revelled in the freedom from technology. At first, she was asking to listen to music on my phone, and check the internet.
(I had brought the phone to use as an alarm but there was no signal in this remote landscape.) But only a few hours into the retreat, and all notions of Instagram, Tumblr – and her postmodern favourites, the Sex Pistols and the Ramones – had vanished from her mind.
We talked, laughed and exercised together. I revelled in this time with her, away from everything, and found we became closer than I had dreamed possible since the dawn of adolescence.
We ate vegetarian food, socialised with the other guests, walked the rugged landscape, chanted and meditated and only on a couple of occasions did the teenager say ‘this is torture’ referring to a particularly gruelling class.
By Sunday afternoon, having spent an entire weekend without so much as a glass of wine, or tapping into my email even once, I looked at my daughter and felt as though I wanted to cry. Yes the experience had been a physical one but, much more than that, it had been spiritual, too.
I hugged my teenager and smiled. Two days at a yoga retreat achieved more for me than two weeks by a pool ever could and I expect this will be an annual cleansing experience for us both.