March 2, 2026

Seeds Flourish in the Dark

One of the most insightful reflections on human flourishing we recently encountered came from the place you would least expect: darkness.

Bhaskar Goswami, this Thursday's guide at our opening seminar for Seeds of Flourishing (details at the bottom), took on the challenge of living for several days in a room the size of a hut, in complete and absolute darkness, with no windows, no clock, no phone, and a bucket for a toilet.

He writes: “The door closed with a hollow thud, and the world vanished. No light, no outlines, not even the faintest shadow. Just thick, absolute, infinite blackness. I lifted my hand to my face and waved. I saw nothing. Not even a vague outline. I was alone in the void. And the very first thought I had was: So it has begun”.

What unfolded over the days that followed revealed deep textures and insights about human experience, from the dissolution of time, to meeting the incessant “voice” of his mind, to heartfelt conversations with people who weren't there (if you’re curious to read Bhaskar’s full account you can find it here, highly recommended!). 

But why would one ever do this?

An Ancient Rite

The practice has ancient roots. Periods of deliberate darkness, voluntary withdrawal from light, sound, and the relentless stimulation of ordinary life, appear across human civilizations with remarkable consistency. It’s as if many cultures, independently, arrived at the same counterintuitive conclusion: that certain kinds of depth can only be found by removing almost everything.

In Tibetan Buddhism, for example, dark retreats (mun mtshams) are considered among the most advanced contemplative practices. Only to be attempted after years of foundational training, these retreats involve days or weeks in complete darkness, working to stabilize the recognition of rigpa (pure awareness) and to experience the spontaneous arising of inner visions of light, understood as the natural luminosity of the mind freed from distraction. What practitioners consistently report is not deprivation but revelation, an extraordinary fullness that ordinary light-filled life somehow obscures.

Myths from all traditions are filled with stories of descent into darkness, what Ancient Greeks called katabasis. Orpheus descends into the underworld to retrieve Eurydice, navigating the realm of the dead by the power of his music. Aeneas crosses it to receive wisdom from his father's shade. Gandalf’s fall into Moria’s abyss transforms him into a more powerful, authoritative, and focused leader. Venturing into the dark is a pivotal’s moment of the hero’s journey.

Across these traditions, a courageous wager is being made: that the ordinary self, organised, overstimulated, running to meetings, scrolling feeds, managing impressions, is not the deepest version of what we are. Removing the noise opens the chance to discover the wisdom lying underneath.

Neuroscience findings confirm this possibility: when the brain is deprived of external input, it doesn't go quiet. Instead, it turns inward, and what it generates can be vivid and illuminating. A growing body of evidence suggests positive applications for improving mood, reducing anxiety, and inducing profound alterations in how the mind experiences time and selfhood. Also true that, under the wrong conditions, going dark can induce anxiety, hallucinations and distress.

Shall I then Go into a Cave?

Not necessarily. 

Bhaskar is clear that his practice is not for everyone. It requires a strong foundation in inner work. It is explicitly not for people with unhealed trauma or without preparation. This is a rite of passage, not a weekend experiment.

But the invitation applies to all of us, and it doesn't require a sealed room.

Most of us live inside a low-grade but constant state of avoidance. We have arranged our lives so that we rarely have to be alone with ourselves, quiet, in darkness. What Bhaskar's retreat makes vivid is that underneath that noise lies a source of vitality. A chance to come in contact with our own depth.

Your version of the dark retreat might be much smaller.

Lie down in bed at night savoring the silence as you fall asleep. 

Turn off your phone, your TV, and all lights and sit in the darkness, in your favorite spot in your home, breathing, as you wind down at the end of the day.

Find a moment to sing, pray or dance in the dark.

Spend an extra 5 minutes with your child at bedtime, a silent moment of being together.

Let the seeds of flourishing germinate in the dark.

This Thursday

On March 5th, Bhaskar Goswami joins us for the opening session of Seeds of Flourishing. He won't be asking you to enter a dark room. He will be guiding a live, participatory inquiry into what flourishing actually means, not as a theory, but as a reality to inhabit.

Bhaskar was born into a traditional yogic lineage in India and holds a background in electronic engineering, a combination that gives his work depth and precision. He integrates the contemplative depth of his lineage with the clarity of someone who has spent years helping leaders and organizations navigate real-world complexity. He has spoken at the UN's COP22. He founded BODHI and daana, organizations dedicated to global wellbeing.

He is the kind of person who, in pursuit of understanding what it means to truly flourish, will sit alone in absolute darkness until he finds out.

The session is online, open to all and free, with the possibility of making a donation.

If you haven’t registered yet, here is the link:

If you are registered already, we can’t wait to see you there!

With warmth,

The Centre for Human Flourishing Team