Children are very funny when they take a fall – if they think nobody has witnessed it, they often get up again and go about their business. It’s a very different story if they detect an audience.

We, as adults, can be the complete opposite. We are mortified if we think anybody has seen us take a stumble, and are in a great hurry to get up again without any fuss.

I recently attended a weekend retreat at the Burren Yoga and Meditation Centre just outside Kinvara in Co Galway (www.burrenyoga.ie). One of the participants took a stumble as the group was heading to the kitchen for dinner. Her initial reaction was fairly typical – she got up almost as fast as she went down, wanting no fuss and insisting she was fine.

But it was apparent to the rest of the group that she had taken a bit of a knock, and we all rallied around her. She became quite emotional at this stage and David, the owner, took her into another room to double check she was OK.

Meanwhile, we sat down to dinner. I was completely taken aback at how such a relatively minor event had impacted on us.

We were all quiet and subdued. At one stage, I thought I might start crying myself. When she returned to join us for dinner (perfectly fine, thank God) it was only then that our energy picked up and the fun and laughter resumed.

However, the episode stayed with me all weekend and I couldn’t quite figure out why. But I think it was this: Yes, the weekend retreat revolved around yoga and meditation and guided outings in the Burren. But it was more than that. There was no TV, no mobile phones, and no alcohol. This cut out a lot of what consumes us on a day-to-day basis. So we were left with ourselves and we were left with each other.

I suppose, we were unmasked in some way, became more real. This allowed us all to respond fully and openly to someone who had a bit of a fall. We were able to feel for her and we were able to freely express this.

She, herself, said to me afterwards that it wasn’t the shock of the fall that made her emotional, but rather the honest and genuine concern that we had shown her. It touched her.

Our kindness literally brought her to tears. And I realised that doing without TV and modern technology naturally brings us back in touch with our humanity. This is not some revolutionary insight, it’s common sense. But, unfortunately, common sense doesn’t always mean common practice.