(Written in 2018)
Its day 4. I feel like crawling, everywhere. Its too much to even think about hoisting myself up on my hind legs to go downstairs and get the morning shot of coconut water. Yeah, morning shot. In my face. What on earth did I sign up for? 7 days of fasting. A 10 day retreat. In Poland. In winter. The New Civilization Training (NCT) is a fasting retreat with a twist, integrating BDSM, bodywork, yoga, choral practices and sounding. And this morning the workshop leaders look so fucking dapper and smiley I’m almost angry at them. “Today I feel really great!” shares Felix, who co-leads the retreat. “Full of energy and very clear,” he continues. …There are no words. By this point, I am resolved to assume that he is an extraterrestrial ingeniously inhabiting a 50-somethings body in order to be able to fast, run the retreat, deal with rebellious, emotional, hungry participants and still have energy to play BDSM in the evening.
Now the more salient question: why would I do this? I am not going to reiterate the endless physical benefits of fasting. For health-related articles on why it is advantageous, google ‘fasting – good?’ or read something like this. Fasting gives the body the opportunity to rejuvenate and revitalize itself in ways that no other diet or fitness regime can. It can be undertaken for anything from 1 to 3 to 7 to 40 days, just like Jesus. Our capacity to fast is inbuilt into our body system, we just don’t use this capacity any more because we have Aldi.
The difference here is that even though I fast, and put my body through something it doesn’t consciously like to do, I also give it pleasure and stimulation emotionally and physically, which it definitely does like to do. Workshop creators and facilitators Felix Ruckert and Michaela Bagnoli pack the days of fasting full with activities for body, mind, libido and emotions. It is a refreshing change to the solitary introspective approach of other wellness retreats. It seems ludicrous, because we normally attribute ‘no food’ to ‘no energy’ and therefore ‘no fun’, but on the NCT there is more contact time than any other retreat I have ever been on. Apart from the afternoon 3 hours of silence, which to be honest, I have kept to religiously by passing out in the same position as I finished the morning workshop, you are busy from 6 in the morning until 10 at night, or later.
I run you through a standard day. We start with a short singing practice by candlelight. It sounds much more Catholic than it actually is. We just make noise. In a circle. Sometimes with harmony. Mostly not. Then comes a shot of coconut water – yes I can hear you hardcore fast-ers: “But if you drink coconut water then that’s not fasting.” You can choose not to have the shot. I tried doing the whole retreat just on water once too. Come and try… Once we have shot up, there is a brisk 1-hour walk through the magical fairy forest by the house (which I swear they tilt periodically because the paths we take get steeper every day).
When we come back, we do an hour of yoga focused on the organ most affected by that day’s fasting. We drink a tea from a bespoke selection designed to help our body cleanse. Then body work and hypnosis with Michaela who is certified by leading UK Hypnotist Marisa Peer. We do some trippy psychological games, playing with family relations, which is super surprising to me because I can’t believe how open and exposed I am still willing to be when I have nothing in my belly. There is a sharing. There has to be a sharing. It’s a retreat. And it is so fucking interesting to see how concise people can be when they are in a strong emotional process but who also really really want to go sleeping.
In the afternoon, we rest. When we regroup in the evening, to break the silence we sound together, tapping or singing that once more reminds us that this is also a group process. It mentally prepares us for the evening’s offered activity: a workshop on sex and sensuality. We cover a different theme every night. It’s a potpourri of sexy fun, from tantra massage to playing dominance and submission to play parties. For such a tough individual journey, we are constantly thrown back into close, physical contact with those around us, encouraged to share and receive. I surprise myself again at how much I enjoy this intimacy, and how horny I am, without food. Frustratingly, I have to admit that I am even not hungry when I’m horny. I am frustrated about this because I want to complain. I want it to not be going right. I am grumpy. But I cannot deny that when I’m self pleasuring in a room full of people, I am absolutely not thinking about crisps. Funnily enough, fucking and fasting goes really well!
The amalgamation of fasting and physical, specifically sexual practices has many benefits. Firstly, I listen more. Without food, I am quiet, I am slow, I deeply consider just how much I want to move my arm and pick up the glass of water and I can feel with razor-sharp clarity how great my desire is for said water or said cock. I approach my sexuality, and my body, with gentle compassion; what am I really able to do? What do I really want to do? What do I really need right now? The physical emptiness facilitates a mental clarity that is reflected in my own perception of my senses; I am more sensitive to touch, to sound, to smell and taste, and these senses drive my sexuality, not my mind. My mind is on vacation. It gave up 2 days ago after it asked for the 52nd time for an avocado and I said ‘No’. There is a heightened sense of the differentiation between my emotional inner voice – “I want him to want me because that makes me feel attractive.” – and my instinctive inner voice – “I want him. I want to taste his skin.”
Secondly, I teach myself how to be in a physical experience and stay present. This is not an ascetic practice where I am encouraged to be unattached, to deny my physical desires, to ‘think good thoughts’. I am not trying to run away from my bodily experience, but through touch and movement, to embrace and accept it. Me and my body and the bodies of the other participants are steered towards one another, and in this empty, unfamiliar, unknown state, discover embodied truths that otherwise are too quiet, too hidden, too subtle to normally be noticed.
This opportunity to really listen to myself, and to others, is poetically reflected in the sounding and voice workshops that are peppered throughout the day. Choral work is a huge trigger for many people. Our ability to express ourselves and to sing or perform in public brings out often long-abandoned insecurities or issues. Holding a rhythm, keeping in time with a group and singing in harmony spark questions around ‘community’ and ‘society’: how do I fit in? How much do I let my voice be heard? How annoyed am I that he is just not paying attention and why can’t he get it right that noise is excruciating make it stop! …Am I really a compassionate social being, or what are my expectations on those with whom I share my space? Needless to be said that this emotional nudity and, admittedly, irritability is supported not only by the physical nudity and acceptance enforced in the sex and sensuality evenings but reviewed and nurtured in the personal development sessions. So if the self-administrated enemas were not helping you ‘deal with your shit’, no doubt the unique combination of activities offered will.
That people with no previous experience of fasting and no specific preparatory physical training, can enjoy a full body tantric massage if they so please, or have a heated discussion about food as a political lever after being without food for 7 days is, frankly, supremely impressive. It really shows how well the retreat is designed, to give the right level of stimulus, input, and space for inspiration. The NCT is unquestionably a unique opportunity to go deeper into your own psyche, habits and patterns, reduce yourself back to the bare bones of being and take a second look at your relationship to food, to sex, to other humans, and to society at large.