Over the past few years, Vipassana meditation centres have become my sanctuaries. Time spent sitting or serving there feels like a homecoming of sorts; a reminder that the simplest acts, when done with care and presence, can become profound.
This October, I served my first 30-day course at Dhamma Padhāna in Herefordshire. Though I’ve volunteered many times at the neighbouring centre, Dhamma Dipa, this experience was different - a more immersive and intimate experience altogether. For a month, the same small team lived and worked together without comings or goings, held within an atmosphere of deep focus and mindfulness.
Students - those sitting the course - meditate for 10 to 12 hours each day over 28 days, maintaining complete silence until the final two days, when the schedule softens. There’s no talking (except with the assistant teacher), no contact with the outside world, no distractions - just you, your cushion and two simple, nourishing meals a day. Servers are there to quietly support and facilitate this inward journey for the students.
On this occasion I was one of 6 kitchen servers. It was our responsibility to ensure meals were ready and waiting in the dining hall for students: breakfast at 6:30 am, lunch at 11 am and in the evening, lemon and ginger water - a light alternative, as students take a vow to abstain from dinner during the course (this discipline mirrors monastic traditions and supports meditation practice.)
Servers meditate for at least three hours a day - one hour each in the morning, afternoon and evening. These sits, woven into our working rhythm, were profoundly grounding and this constant returning to the practice kept our work infused with calmness and intention. A reminder that meditation isn't separate from life but a way of being in it.
Meditation, like any skill, rewards consistent practice - the more you do it, the more you feel its benefits and the more natural it becomes to return to it again and again… it is a positive feedback loop. Those moments on my cushion in the meditation hall felt sacred, as did the walks there, watching my feet tread over the colourful of autumn leaves shed by a nearby maple. When life slows down, you notice the details.
Serving people as they journey inward is humbling. Meditation can bring up all sorts of challenges for the students and with their full focus on the practice itself they are completely dependent on the centre and those who come to help for food, warmth and care. To contribute to that safety and comfort felt like a true privilege and a way to practise mettā (loving-kindness), giving back for all the times others have served me while I sat courses. I often felt this mettā most vividly through small moments like arranging the condiments neatly on the counter, sweeping leaves outside the dining room or chopping cucumbers with care and arranging them nicely on a plate. This is not the sort of joy that sings and dances with excitement but a deep, calm joy that stirs quietly in the heart. Just the thought of a student seeing these details and feeling cared for filled me with immense gratitude and fulfilment.
Our team of ten (two course managers and two assistant teachers completed our set) quickly became like a family; unique personalities united in purpose. Over time, we learned how to flow around one another: when to offer help, when to give space and when to bring lightness and laughter to a situation. Sometimes support looked like an extra hour’s rest; other times, it was a comforting word or an extra pair of hands during a lunchtime rush. Our evening group mettā sessions provided a chance to send out kind wishes to each other, to the students and to the wider world, as well as to reflect on the day - from challenges faced to moments of inspiration.
I remember a Dhamma server once joking with a teacher “If you could bottle this energy, you could sell it for millions!” She was a marketing expert and she clearly saw the immense value in the rare, radiant harmony that arises when strangers come together with the shared intention to serve the Dhamma. This never fails to amaze me; the incredible power of a shared wholesome purpose to unite and inspire harmony amongst a group of relative strangers. It's a reminder that meditation on the cushion is training for life itself - for living skilfully, cultivating patience, compassion and generosity in every interaction - and that helping others is the surest path to happiness.
Having the chance to be in this Dhamma atmosphere and practice the Budhha's teaching for a whole month was special indeed. There were times when my grateful heart felt like it would burst when I reflected on where I was and what I was doing. That is not to say the month came without challenge (serving is a sort of course in itself and highlighted my shortcomings on a daily basis!) but even amidst the difficulties, the bigger picture came into focus and a trust arose that I was right where I needed to be. Seeing the radiant faces of the meditators as they emerged at the end of the course confirmed this and inspired me to book onto another course soon ☺️
Leave a comment