safety
This page expands on our main safety data with two detailed cases, one common and one rare. Both participants reviewed and approved their sections before publication.
Transient difficulty is relatively common in intensive practice. Sleep disruption, emotional intensity, unfamiliar bodily sensations, disorientation, or dissociation (feeling unreal, emotionally numb, or disconnected from yourself). These can be genuinely hard while they're happening, but they typically resolve within days to weeks with rest and support, without medical intervention.
Most people who experience transient difficulty don't regret coming. They describe it as uncomfortable but navigable. Many find it valuable in retrospect.
Rare severe events are different in kind, not just degree. They require clinical response and are treated as medical matters. In ~1,200 students, we have had one.
Midway through retreat, one participant noticed they could generate a buzzing, electric sensation in their chest while practicing. Over several days, they found they could intensify it and send waves of it through their body. They were curious, even fascinated.
On the final night, the sensation grew into an uncomfortable aching that pervaded their whole body and wouldn't subside. They felt scared it might not go away.
They experimented with grounding: dancing didn't help much, but a night swim in the ocean did. A low dose of anti-anxiety medication they'd brought helped them sleep.
By the next day or two, the sensation had faded. In a follow-up call, we discussed what had happened. This phenomenon has a name (piti, often translated as "energetic rapture") and is well-documented in contemplative traditions. We talked through grounding techniques: physical activity, heavy meals, sensory engagement. The experience had been frightening. But once they understood what was happening and that it would pass, the fear lifted. They’re planning to do another retreat with us.
What this illustrates: Unfamiliar experiences can be frightening when they seem outside our control. Knowing what's happening, and that it passes, makes a real difference. Many key signals are recognizable (physical intensity that doesn't subside with rest), and the responses are straightforward (grounding, reduced practice, time).
Naming it. Simply having a framework ("this is piti," "this is emotional material surfacing") reduces the fear of the unknown.
Reducing intensity. Opening the eyes, moving the body, walking, eating a substantial meal. Cold water, exercise, sensory engagement with the external world.
Normalizing without dismissing. "This is hard, and people get through it" is more useful than either minimizing ("it's nothing") or catastrophizing ("this is very concerning").
Backing off. Sometimes the right response is less practice, not more. The way forward isn't always through. Sometimes it's to stop, ground, and return later.
Staying connected. Isolation amplifies distress. Contact with facilitators, friends, or family helps.
Time and rest. Most transient difficulty resolves on its own. Sleep, reduced stimulation, and patience are underrated.
A participant had minimal formal meditation experience—roughly 30 cumulative hours—but reported being able to access concentrated states reliably for several years. This combination was unusual; we'd never seen someone claim such consistent access with so little practice. They arrived having just come through one of the most stressful periods of their life, and arranged lodging that made it difficult to sleep, which we didn't learn until afterward. All of these factors may or may not have been a factor.
Their retreat went well by most measures. They progressed rapidly, reported profound experiences, rated the retreat 10/10. In their end-of-retreat survey (which we received as they were leaving and didn't review until two days later) they reported several things not reported in their daily journal: sleeping 4-6 hours a night, eating half as much as usual, and having developed a "default state" of emotional invincibility. They wondered if they might no longer need as much sleep.
Three days after retreat, a colleague reached out with concerns about their behavior. They also sent us a long document they were inspired to write quickly describing unusual experiences.
We met with them by video that afternoon. They were displaying manic symptoms. We worked through questions from a validated mania scale; results suggested moderate mania. They agreed to prioritize sleep but declined further support.
The next morning was worse. They hadn't slept. A psychologist recommended the ER; they went but left before being seen. They were prescribed sleep medication but didn't take it. This is a common pattern with mania: often the person feels fine and resists intervention.
By the third morning, they’d slept about three hours total over two nights. They showed the characteristic pattern of manic episodes: periods of lucidity alternating with grandiose altered states. Physical signs (sleep, appetite) remained the most reliable indicators.
We stayed in close contact with them that morning to make sure they connected with a psychiatrist. Finding same-day care was difficult; eventually we arranged for a telehealth appointment with a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist diagnosed acute mania temporally associated with their meditation experience and prescribed an antipsychotic. They slept 14 hours that night. Acute symptoms resolved within days.
Full recovery took about four months. After stopping the antipsychotic, they went through a two-month depressive episode. They benefited from ongoing psychiatric care, medication adjustments, and conversations with family to work through residual beliefs from the manic period.
As of our last contact, the participant has returned to full productivity at work and has had no major symptoms for several months. They reviewed this case study and supported its publication. We’re on good terms.
Why this case is different: This wasn't an intense version of Case Study 1. It was a psychiatric emergency requiring clinical care. Acute reactions like this are very rare (one in ~1,200 students in our experience) but they're possible, and we prepare for them.
Manic episodes are tricky: the person often feels great and resists help, and can appear calm while acutely symptomatic. The key learning: physical signs (sleep, appetite) are more reliable than subjective reports. In this case, most warning signs appeared in their final survey, after retreat had ended, which changed how we handle post-retreat check-ins.
Survey timing. We now review end-of-retreat surveys same-day and are building a check-in process for the week after retreat.
Sleep monitoring. Any report of less than six hours of sleep triggers a mandatory check-in, regardless of how the participant says they feel. "I don't need as much sleep anymore" is treated as a warning sign, not reassurance.
Pre-vetted psychiatric resources. Before each in-person retreat, we establish verified same-day psychiatric options in the region. This matters because if someone does need professional support, quality of care varies and same-day appointments are hard to get without advance work.
Validated scales. We've added standardized assessments for hypomania and psychosis that can be administered quickly when concerns arise.
Teaching modulation. We've added curriculum on how to downregulate, how to recognize personal warning signs, and how to brake. Progress is not just about going deeper.
What remains uncertain: Whether this participant’s unusual profile (reliable access with minimal practice) should have triggered extra monitoring. We continue to look for predictive indicators, though correlations are hard to find when events are this rare. Some risk may be irreducible.
These experiences are not typical. We’ve documented 3% of participants experiencing some transient difficulty (uncomfortable but navigable). Less than 0.1% (1 in over 1,200 students) experience anything like Case Study 2.
For our summary data, see the main safety page.
If you're considering a retreat and have questions about whether it's right for you, we welcome that conversation.
For those who participate: we take your safety seriously. Difficulty can happen, and when it does, it matters. We prepare for it, respond to it, and learn from every case.
Questions: retreats@jhourney.io
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1 We reject a “no pain, no gain” frame on meditation: believing advanced meditation needs to be painful to be valuable often leads to poor practice, and valorizing suffering risks victim blaming for those who never find it valuable. Instead, we iterate to make our curriculum as enjoyable as possible. Still, it’s true that many people who have had transient difficulties on our retreat have found it valuable learning in retrospect.
2 For context, research on psychotherapy finds 5–14% of patients report lasting negative effects, depending on setting and methodology (Crawford et al., 2016; McQuaid et al., 2021).