Silent meditation retreats have become so commonplace as to be nearly mainstream. Darkness retreats, though, are an entirely different sort of practice. In a sealed room in a cabin in the woods, a cabin owned by a onetime Riker’s Island chaplain, Chris Colin comes face to face with—well, with nothing. That’s what happens when light disappears for three days. It doesn’t mean you don’t see things, though.
A strange dam broke. Just minutes later, the tape along the bathroom door came loose, lighting up that side of the room. I shot up to cover the leak, only to discover I imagined it. I trekked to my cushion, and I was now inside a snow cave. The cave morphed into the Milky Way, so vivid that comets zipped by. Soon I was in an old stone fortress. (Habsburgian, I somehow knew.) Moonlight poured through a hole in the roof, bathing the floor in a pale blue and illuminating a column of dust. In normal life, I struggle to summon visuals in my head; here I was Rembrandt.
More picks from Chris Colin
That Dropped Call With Customer Service? It Was on Purpose.
“Endless wait times and excessive procedural fuss—it’s all part of a tactic called ‘sludge.’”
San Francisco’s 24-Hour Diner Stops the Cosmic Clock
“. . .but then there it is: a strikingly red building, a flash of weathered neon, an improbable promise issued since 1970. We Never Close.”
Meet the Psychedelic Boom’s First Responders
“With more tripping will come more psychic terror. A new movement of volunteers will guide you through your brain melt.”
