*NEWSLETTER* 16 Days in the Mountain Monastery
Octobers newsletter is a little different-more personal, more reflective, and maybe a touch more vulnerable than usual.
In early December, I'm stepping away for 16 days of complete silence at a working Buddhist monastery in Chiang Mai; a place where monks carry out their daily practice and where stillness and simplicity shape every moment.
Two remarkable women have been instrumental in helping me prepare for this journey.
Khun Siriporn, my inspiration and soulmate in Thailand, is deeply committed to Buddhism. Her serenity, compassion, and quiet wisdom have guided me every step of the way. She believes in the transformative power of mindfulness and has generously shared her own journey, helping me see that peace isn't found through isolation but through gentle awareness. She's also kindly supported my acceptance into the monastery program, for which I'm profoundly grateful.
And then there's Ruth Owen; a lifelong friend and one of the strongest yet softest women I know. Ruth embodies grace under pressure and reminds me daily that strength doesn't have to roar; sometimes it simply breathes. Her encouragement and example remind me that stillness and courage aren't opposites they're partners in balance.
I'm drawn back to Thailand because I love its people and deeply respect the Buddhist philosophy of kindness, presence, and acceptance. I feel safe here to try new approaches to life to quiet my mind, deepen my practice, and rediscover balance.
This retreat isn't about escape. It's about learning practical techniques to carry stillness home to find peace even amid the pace of modern life.
And perhaps that's why Thailand feels like the right place for this chapter. They don't call it "The Land of Smiles" for nothing a phrase that captures the serenity, gentleness, and grace I hope to cultivate there.
The Land of Smiles - A Gentle Reminder
When I am in Phuket, I cycle every morning and without fail, I smile at the people I passed. And without fail, they smile back. It is not a grand gesture. No words needed. Just a moment of warmth between strangers. But what did that do to my state of mind? Transformational.
Thailand isn't called The Land of Smiles by accident. It's a way of living-softness without weakness, joy without performance, kindness without reason. And this week I came across Spike Milligan's poem again. I'd read it before, but this time it lingered: “A single smile, just like mine, could travel round the earth.” Yes, it can. And maybe it already has.
We talk so much about leadership, strategy, and performance. But I've come to believe: a genuine smile might be the most underrated form of leadership there is. It invites. It connects. It reminds us we're human. So wherever you are in Phuket or not… maybe today's the day to pass one on.
Acceptance & Gratitude
Two themes will anchor my time at the monastery:
Acceptance. The art of embracing what is without resistance, without judgement.
Gratitude. The quiet recognition of what’s already here even when it’s imperfect, even when it’s fleeting.
These aren’t abstract ideas; they’re daily practices. Whether it’s accepting discomfort in meditation, or finding gratitude in silence, I hope to learn not just to think about peace but to live it.
Why the Buddha Prohibited Eating After Noon
In Buddhist monastic life, monks and nuns traditionally eat only in the morning. This isn't deprivation-it's discipline. The idea is simple: by eating earlier, the body has time to digest fully, allowing energy to flow toward mindfulness rather than indulgence. It's about recognizing "enough"-a principle at the heart of Buddhist philosophy. When we stop chasing constant stimulation (be it food, noise, or distraction), we create space for clarity. It's something I'm curious to experience in practice during my stay to feel hunger not as lack, but as awareness.
7 Benefits of Not Using a Phone
As I prepare for two weeks with no devices, I’ve been thinking about how much time I spend connected and how much I miss when I’m not. Here are seven simple but profound benefits of digital silence:
- Clarity - fewer inputs, clearer thoughts.
- Creativity - boredom breeds ideas.
- Presence - no photos, no posts, just being.
- Deeper sleep - without blue light or notifications.
- Authentic connection - talking face-to-face, not through a screen.
- Reduced anxiety - the mind quietens without comparison.
- Gratitude - noticing the small details again: the birds, the weather, a smile.
For two weeks, I'll experience this fully-no WhatsApp, no email, no LinkedIn! I'm both nervous and excited.
Breathe in the Calm
As I prepare for my time in silence next month… 16 days of reflection and meditation in Chiang Mai. I’ve been seeking writing and poetry that quietens the noise and reconnects me to presence.
This piece by Rohit Kalsariya stopped me in my tracks:
Breathe in the calm, release the strain,
A fleeting thought, like gentle rain.
The present hums, a quiet tune,
Where hearts align with sun and moon.
The earth inhales, the rivers flow,
A rhythm only silence knows.
The trees stand tall, their roots run deep,
As time dissolves in mindful sleep.
It captures perfectly what I hope to explore a stillness that isn’t escape, but awareness.
In leadership, in life, in love we often chase noise, productivity, and momentum. But real wisdom, I’ve found, comes when we pause long enough to hear the quiet tune beneath it all.
💬 What reminds you to slow down? A poem, a ritual, a place?
#Stillness #Mindfulness #Leadership #Meditation #InnerPeace #Presence #Poetry
Preparing for Stillness
As I gear up for my time in a Buddhist monastery this December-16 days of total silence, no phone, no books, no conversationI've been turning to two gentle guides that are helping me lay the groundwork for stillness and presence.
✨ The Zen Monkey and the Lotus Flower by Tenpa Yeshe - 52 beautifully simple stories about awareness, humour, and the wisdom hidden in everyday moments.
🧘 Practical Meditation for Beginners by Benjamin W. Decker - a grounded, modern guide to bringing calm and clarity into daily life in just 10 days.
Both remind me that meditation isn't about escape it's about returning.
Returning to breath, to awareness, to self.
Have you read anything recently that's helped you find a little more calm and focus? I'd love your recommendations.
The Science of Stillness
I’ve always been fascinated by the intersection of neuroscience and ancient philosophy — how what we call “new discoveries” often affirm timeless wisdom.
Meditation is one of those bridges.
Decades of scientific research now confirm what spiritual traditions have taught for centuries: stillness changes the brain.
Neuroscientist Sara Lazar at Harvard found that consistent meditation thickens the prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain responsible for awareness, decision making, and compassion — while reducing the size of the amygdala, the centre of stress and fear.
In short, meditation helps us respond instead of react. It teaches emotional regulation, patience, and empathy — qualities that are becoming rare in our age of immediacy.
During my years in corporate leadership, I often saw burnout mistaken for brilliance. People equated exhaustion with commitment. But neuroscience shows the opposite: chronic stress literally narrows our cognitive capacity, while stillness expands it.
When we create moments of quiet, we aren’t stepping away from performance; we’re optimising it.
We’re giving the brain time to integrate, process, and innovate.
The science of stillness reminds us that leadership isn’t about doing more, it’s about thinking better, feeling deeper, and leading from clarity instead of chaos.
The Noise We Choose
We talk often about the noise around us the constant hum of messages, deadlines, and digital chatter.
But the deeper truth is that most of this noise is chosen.
We curate it, invite it, even cling to it because somewhere along the line, we’ve learned to equate stillness with idleness.
Yet stillness is not the absence of action. It’s the foundation for meaningful action.
Over the years, I’ve realised that much of the world’s busyness is performative, an endless race to stay visible, responsive, and relevant. But visibility is not value. And constant motion is not progress.
Choosing stillness means making uncomfortable decisions.
It means not attending every meeting, not replying to every message, and not saying yes to everything that crosses your desk. It’s resisting the temptation to fill silence with noise or activity with distraction.
When I was leading large global teams, I often found that the best decisions came after the noise had settled. The first reaction was rarely the wisest one. Creating deliberate pauses allowed space for deeper thought and for others’ ideas to surface.
The most powerful leaders I’ve known aren’t the ones who dominate the room. They’re the ones who listen deeply, hear what’s unsaid, and give permission for silence to speak.
Stillness isn’t passive. It’s presence.
And the kind of quiet we choose today determines the clarity we bring tomorrow.
My Morning Practice: A Gentle Start
Mornings used to be about speed for me — a flurry of emails, coffee, meetings, and mental checklists before the day even began.
Now, they’re a quiet ceremony of intention.
When I wake, I start not with tasks, but with stillness. A few moments of breathing, gratitude, and — if I’m home — tea by the window as the light changes. On other mornings, it’s cycling, which has become a kind of moving meditation for me: the rhythm of the pedals, the steady pulse of breath, the feeling of being both grounded and free.
I used to believe that leadership demanded early productivity. But I’ve come to understand that leadership demands early presence.
The way we begin our day is often the way we lead — rushed or centred, distracted or intentional.
This simple morning rhythm grounds me. It helps me notice the details: the warmth of the cup, the sound of birds, the moment when the mind slows enough for real thought to begin. Those are the minutes that refill my well — because I’ve learned that when you give your energy to the world all day, you must first anchor it within.
Stillness isn’t something we earn at the end of the week. It’s something we practice, one quiet morning at a time.
Meditation & the Power of Simplicity
Meditation is often misunderstood as “clearing the mind." But it’s more like watching the mind—seeing thoughts come and go without grabbing onto them. In Transcendental Meditation (TM), we use a mantra to gently return to calm awareness. Over time, this practice changes how we respond to stress, to people, to ourselves. I've found three benefits that feel especially resonant right now:
- Stillness sharpens intuition - quiet minds make better decisions.
- Peace builds power - not the loud, external kind, but inner steadiness.
- Simplicity liberates - when you strip away distractions, you rediscover meaning.
Buddhist philosophy teaches that simplicity isn't about having less-it's about needing less.
Tips to Reduce Brain Fatigue
Here are timeless reminders. Fatigue isn't just physical-it's mental. And sometimes, the simplest questions can reset us:
- Are you overcommitting?
- Are you prioritising your needs?
- Are you feeling pressured into saying "yes" too often?
My own rituals include journaling, morning walks, and asking myself daily: "What's the best and worst that can happen here?" Sometimes, the answer itself releases the tension.
Closing Reflection: The Art of Letting Go
One of the first Buddhist teachings I learned was about impermanence the simple but profound truth that everything changes.
And yet, we humans are creatures of attachment. We cling to plans, outcomes, relationships, and identities. We resist endings, even when they’re really beginnings in disguise.
Letting go has never come easily to me. As a leader, I’ve had to learn that not every project, partnership, or idea will continue forever; nor should it. Growth sometimes requires release. The art lies in knowing when to persist and when to make space for what’s next.
In Buddhist philosophy, letting go isn’t giving up; it’s accepting flow. It’s trusting that the current of life will carry us to the right shore, even when we can’t yet see it.
In my own life, this has meant letting go of certain versions of myself the perfectionist, the constant problem-solver, the person who thought rest was indulgence. Each release has brought a new kind of strength.
Letting go doesn’t mean detachment from care. It means caring without control — the quiet courage to stop clinging and start trusting.
As I prepare for these two weeks of silence, I’m reminded that stillness is not something we find; it’s something we allow. The more we surrender, the clearer life becomes.
Perhaps that’s what this season of stillness is truly about surrendering the need to force outcomes, and finding peace in simply being.
I’d love to hear from you… Any words of wisdom, reflections, or encouragement as I embark on this journey would mean so much.
Warmest,
Harriet