Improve your karma

What is good karma, and how do you get it? It's not the only question we're hoping to answer during a weekend retreat at verdant Mangrove Mountain. Through a tranquilising combination of yoga, bush regeneration, wholesome food and stimulant-free evenings (a package which has been arranged through Conservation Volunteers Australia), the oh-so-righteous hope is to generate a little good karma for others too.

When we reach the front gates of the Satyananda Yoga Retreat, a 90-minute drive from Sydney, our team leader, Simone, asks if anyone has anything they want to say. A few of us mumble into our jacket collars, zipped up tight to keep out the evening chill. It doesn't sink in immediately, but we've just missed out last chance to vocalise. Silence reigns at Mangrove Mountain between 8.15pm and 7.30am every night.

We step out of the minibus into the dimly lit, deserted courtyard of the ashram, and struggle to keep our mouths shut. The clear night sky sparkles with countless stars, and it's all we can do not to gasp - how beautiful it all is. But for the next 11 hours, we'll have to keep our thoughts to ourselves.

For the next two days, we'll be pulling out weeds and planting native trees on the terraced hillside above the ashram. It's considered seva yoga, a selfless service for a higher purpose. By giving something back, perhaps we'll improve our lot in life, or even the next - if you believe in that kind of thing. Let me come back as a dolphin, please.

Each morning before work, we perform "om" chanting and contemplate the plants, trees, insects, birds and animals that we'll be helping during our altruistic tasks. It's the insects that are top of mind, as the bush is literally crawling with unappreciative poisonous spiders and blood-thirsty leeches. "Don't put your hands under the rim of those tyres!" our team leader Simone calls out as we clamber up the steep hillside. "It's the perfect habitat for red-back spiders."

Our ashram guide Robyn explains that the banks of tyres are the only things holding the soil together. New trees will eventually provide natural stability and allow the bush to grow back, eliminating the need for any more weeding. And more bush means more wallabies, echidnas, wombats, possums and bandicoots.

Saturday night is party night at Mangrove Mountain. All day rumours have been spreading about kirtan, a wacky sounding celebration of music and mantras. We spend the entire afternoon envisioning our group dancing the conga around the corridors like a gaggle of hippy Hare Krishnas.

These visions turn out to be not so far from the truth. Although we sit throughout the chanting session, the music is so uplifting that it's seriously tempting to get up and shake some booty. Each mantra begins slowly and solemnly, but as we twist our tongues around the Sanskrit lyrics, the music reaches a crescendo of funky drum beats and guitar twangs. Soon we are all clapping and singing our hearts out to the heavens.

Trying to be silent immediately afterwards is hard. The practice of silence, known as mauna, is supposed to allow us to relax, free from the irritations of meaningless small talk. We communicate instead with a jumbled mix of facial expressions and frantic pointing. This amusing version of charades plays out until we all settle down to sleep.

On Sunday morning, we plant saplings in pairs with heartfelt deliberation. Our handiwork is a kind of karma yoga - our actions should be performed without emotional attachment to the outcome. That's probably easy with tedious tasks like washing up or filling out spreadsheets, but it's difficult not to feel proud of our work today.

"Look around and see what we've done," says Simone as we gather our tools. We take a moment. A hillside that was strangled by weeds yesterday is now well-groomed and planted with dozens of young trees, each protected from predators by green plastic shields.

To complete our own transformation, we take a half hour class of yoga nidra - a practice so relaxing it's apparently equivalent to three hours' sleep. We lie down in the warm, darkened room and slide beneath a fleece blanket, listening to our instructor advise us not to nod off. " Lie down, make the body comfortable, remain awake and alert," are the last words we hear.

In two days, we've gone from tense and taut to relaxed and supple. We've brought new life into the forest and developed a few yogic tricks for the next time we're a bored at work. I'm not sure if I got my karma, but I do feel calmer. Just don't bring me back as a tree. Dolphin, remember?

The bush regeneration programme runs at Satyananda Yoga Mangrove Mountain retreat on the first weekend of every month. Fees are by donation.

Join Conservation Volunteers Australia as part of the Better Earth programme. Weekend packages including food, accommodation and transport cost $100.

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