I came to the Western Zen Retreat at the Dharma Drum Retreat Center in New York hoping to step away from everyday life—to escape the constant noise and demands of friends, family, and social groups. Little did I know that while I could walk away from many things, I could never run away from myself.

Through the practices, I began to discover parts of myself that I had never fully recognized. 

My first question of the communication exercise was, “Who am I?” 

As I worked with different partners, I noticed how easily I was influenced by their sharing. I found myself naturally drawn into their thoughts and feelings, often drafting up my thoughts to align with theirs. I had always considered myself an empathetic person. I genuinely care about others and instinctively want to support them. 

Later, during an interview, the retreat teacher, Rebecca Li, asked me a simple question: “What were you feeling at that moment?” To my surprise, I couldn’t answer. I realized that I had been so focused on my partner’s experience, and on what I should say next, that I had completely lost touch with my own feelings. I have not been fully present. 

Rebecca suggested to change my question to “How do you feel as Diana?” That made a difference. I began to slow down and listen to myself rather than automatically responding to others. 

Working on this question helped me bring the practice into the communication exercise. When sharing, I could listen to myself and be fully aware of what I was saying. When listening, I could give my partner my full attention without becoming absorbed in their emotions. 

I also began to recognize a deeply ingrained habit of pleasing and accommodating others. I had always viewed this as an expression of kindness and compassion. But now I could see the fine line between caring for others and losing my identity in the process. Can I be compassionate without losing touch with who I am? 

Another discovery was my constant preoccupation with what comes next.

I have always considered this one of my strengths. I am a high achiever, someone who plans ahead, works efficiently, and gets things done. I take pride in that ability. Yet I began to wonder whether this very strength had also become an obstacle. 

Even during regular walk with my dog these days, my mind was often already planning what I would do afterward. Instead of simply enjoying the moment, I was mentally moving on to the next activity. I was so busy anticipating the next moment that I was missing the one I was actually living. 

This exercise proved fruitful, bringing out to the surface much that I had been holding inside. Many of the thoughts centered on affection and emotion. During our final interview, Rebecca suggested that I explore a different question: “What is love?” I carried this question with me throughout the last day of the retreat wherever I went and whatever I did. 

Then, after the morning service of last day, the singing bowl rang.

At that moment, I felt love filling my entire body, as though the sound of the bowl were resonating deep within me. It was a feeling of warmth, beauty, and openness. Like I love the whole space. 

At that moment, I felt something that words could hardly express.

Love is not something I need to grasp, hold on to, or preserve. It is something to experience and appreciate, one moment at a time.

And in that moment, it was simply there. So beautiful. So warm. So complete. 

I came to this retreat hoping to escape from the noise of the world.

Instead, I discovered that the peace I had been searching for was never somewhere else. 

It had been within me all along.

Reflection & Photo by DC