A Life Without Pause
My life has always been intense, full of responsibilities. I’ve always been deeply committed to my work. I have the soul of a creator and an entrepreneur, but I’ve also lived through things that made work my emotional refuge.
I've worked non-stop for years. And even though I travel a lot, I’ve had almost no real vacations. Maybe four times in my life — and never for more than three or four days.
My life has revolved around creating, running, solving, building. A continuous high-speed rhythm that has taken its toll.
Last summer was especially tough. I managed three stores without an area manager because I couldn’t afford that extra cost with so much uncertainty.
The season was tense and full of staffing issues (and if you know Ibiza, you know it’s not easy). Right after that, I had to fly to Vietnam to deal with production and the sudden shutdown of the factory that used to work for us.
At the same time, we were opening three new stores in Mallorca.
Pure madness.
The year passed without a single moment of rest. I felt completely drained. Friends were warning me I was headed for burnout. But more than the physical exhaustion, what hurt the most was feeling emotionally disconnected from myself.
That unstoppable rhythm — the constant drive to learn, to grow, to do — had pulled me far away from who I really was.
India: The Beginning of the Real Journey
Even in the middle of all that chaos, I didn’t let go of the idea of doing a Vipassana course.
Luckily, I was accepted at one of the most respected centers in the world: Dhamma Giri, in Igatpuri (India).
That’s where my journey inward truly began.
I flew to New Delhi, where I stayed with my dear friend and designer Nikhil Rishi from Shantanu & Nikhil. Even though I was exhausted, I visited some fabric suppliers and completely fell in love with their cottons and linens — those natural textures, those colours, that purity… it was pure inspiration.
Then I flew to Bombay and took a four-hour car ride to the center.
Nestled in the mountains, surrounded by silence. And there… everything shifted.
Day One: Nerves, Emotions, and a Full-Body Tremble
The first moments at the center were intense. I felt both nervous and excited.
I found myself in a remote place, surrounded by Indian women in their beautiful saris, their jewelry, their deep gazes.
I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Something tightened in my chest. Tears started falling uncontrollably.
Oddly enough, giving up my phone and laptop wasn’t the hard part.
What was hard was surrendering to the unknown, completely alone.
No snacks. No books. No music. No distractions of any kind. Not even eye contact with others.
And Then... the “Torture” Began
The fantasy of rest was quickly shattered.
We were meditating ten hours a day, broken into blocks with five-minute breaks.
The discipline is ancient. Every part of the method — the silence, the rules, the food restrictions — has a purpose.
For the first three days, we practiced Anapana: simply observing your natural breath, focusing only on the sensations in the area of your upper lip.
Yes, your moustache. It sounds ridiculous, I know. But after three days of intense focus, you start to feel things you’ve never felt before. Your body starts speaking.
On day four, the real Vipassana technique began: scanning the body, inch by inch, from head to toe, observing every sensation without reacting.
By day six, my body started trembling. Waves of heat surged through me. I had to cover myself with a wet towel — and after an hour, the towel felt like it had been sitting in a sauna.
Each person experiences it differently. The sensations are often linked to your emotional wounds and unresolved traumas.
You’re not supposed to chase pleasant feelings. You’re just supposed to observe, without judgment, and let your body do what it needs to do.
Wanting to Run — But Choosing to Stay
There were days when I genuinely wanted to run.
I laughed to myself thinking, “What the hell am I doing here, instead of sipping margaritas in Goa doing yoga?”
But something in me knew this was exactly where I needed to be.
Meditating was exhausting — mentally, physically, emotionally. But slowly, it became easier to slip into that deep state. The mind becomes incredibly sensitive. And while the hours flew by, the days felt endless.
During the short breaks, I would lie down outside my room, staring up at the treetops.
Watching squirrels dart around, birds sing, and cheeky monkeys with serious attitude was my little daily joy.
That connection to nature filled me with something very pure: happiness.
The Hall of Silence Turns to Light
At first, the meditation hall felt intimidating.
But as the course went on, I could feel the space change — maybe it was the collective energy of over 200 women meditating together.
It became sacred. Calmer. Even beautiful.
Each group had a teacher. Ours was incredible — a woman who radiated love, wisdom, presence. If you ever felt lost, she would guide you back with gentleness.
She didn’t speak much, but when she did, it was like she was speaking straight to your soul.
Every night, we watched discourses from Goenka, filmed back in 1991.
Somehow, he always knew exactly what you were feeling. His words were soothing, loving, sometimes even funny.
They grounded you. They made you feel like you weren’t alone. Like everything was part of a beautifully designed path.
Every night I went to sleep with a little more peace — and a little more courage to continue.
The End of Silence (And the Explosion of Joy)
On the penultimate day, the noble silence ended.
I was nervous. How could I possibly speak to these women I’d been with for ten days, without even seeing them smile?
But then… something magical happened.
They were radiant. Overflowing with joy. Laughing, talking nonstop.
With Paula, a beautiful soul from Mexico, we hugged, joked, and ended up taking pictures with almost everyone. It was like we had become celebrities in a bubble of light and sisterhood.
But after all that connection and excitement, I needed to retreat again. I ran to my room and curled up.
That silence had become a home — and I wasn’t ready to let it go yet.
Vipassana Doesn’t End When You Leave
The practice must continue.
I can't let what I learned vanish under the weight of a hectic life.
I want to keep observing. Feeling. Learning to control my reactions.
To let my mind find freedom and peace, little by little.
The day I left, a bit disoriented, an angel appeared: Kubbra Sait. She took care of me until I boarded my flight back to Ibiza.
I’ll never forget her kindness.
Final Reflection
Imagine how many thoughts can rise up when you have no distractions and no one to talk to.
I thought so much. I felt so deeply. And honestly, I'm still processing it all.
I feel more mature now. More aware of my shadows, my fears, my attachments.
I’ll keep walking this path of personal growth.
Right now, I’m giving myself a few more days before I return to the social world.
I’m still happy in my silence. And full of energy for what’s to come.
I'm excited about this new season — and ready to keep growing Benibeca, from a more grounded, centered place. From within.
Would you dare to disconnect from the world for ten days just to reconnect with yourself?
Have you ever felt that urgent need to just stop?
I’d love to hear from you in the comments. ✨