The Art and Agony of Retreats

The body knows when it’s time to get off the crazy train of habituated life and explore a new way of being. It’s a tickle deep in the soul that cannot be scratched, medicated or pretended away and that leaves in a whoooosh! when a retreat is found for a time and place that simply clicks. If it’s a retreat of solitude, you and only you for however long, then your experience is completely your own. Choosing to be part of a group retreat unlocks a whole other dimension. When you click sign up you’re submitting your name, address and credit card information, and you’re submitting to an experience uncharted, unknown … and best served that way. There is often a stated purpose, itinerary, takeaways, etc. but it is in the moments unscheduled, the events unpredicted, and the discoveries unimagined that the real magic happens: healing, awakening, expansion, or all of the above. Whatever your intention. And there’s the tricky part. More about that in a moment.

After the initial whooosh of mind and credit card going OMG I’m Going On A Retreat!!! there is excitement counting down the days, with rings of doubt circling like mosquitos, buzzing at random: What if it’s not like the pictures? What if I don’t like it? What of they don’t like me? What do I pack? What’s the food like? And a bajillion other inventions of the mind to keep us anchored in the past as we evolve toward the future. When the chaos of transition settles, there is nothing like walking into the wide open arms of a retreat space, especially when you are the first to arrive. Breathing in the scents of flowers and incense, with a faint (and welcome) hint of laundry soap and kitchen cleaner. A fresh space, blank canvas waiting for artists to arrive and add their energy to the mosaic that will be the retreat experience. One by one, the participants arrive, parting the silence with their unique signals, voices, expressions. There is joy in hello, polite conversation, a gradual unravelling of tension as threads of commonality are revealed, engaged, rewoven into conversations that inspire, connect, pique the curiosity. There is an openness and hope about what the coming days will bring.

Then the real fun begins.

A day or two in, individual lenses are honed, sharpened, focused within.  Intentions stated are fleshed out, altered, in the growing light of awareness. We learn the concept of ‘retreat’ is not the same for everyone. Each of us called to this common space are indeed very different in journeys, beliefs, choices of self. Some want to literally retreat, escape from their lives for a few days of respite. Others want to explore new ways and ideas for living while remaining firmly entrenched in the way life is for them now. Still others are ready to dive deep, shed the cocoons of their past and leap headlong into a new way of being.  Put them all together in a house for a few days and the threads of commonality begin to fray and reweave a new tapestry. We are called to share the mundane chores of life – who is making coffee, who knows how to run the dishwasher,  is there no fresh fruit, are we doing anything today … yes, there’s yoga and talking circle, but are we going anywhere?  while navigating invitations to our evolutions that light up some, terrify others. A human cell cannot protect and grow at the same time. A cell of humans cannot expand and maintain as a unit at the same time, either. It becomes clear that while some want ‘retreat’ for the inner space, others want ‘resort’ for the escape. To sit with themselves, even for a few hours, is agony. For those seeking evolution, to be constantly on the go to beaches and restaurants and shopping and sightseeing is agony for them. It seems hopeless. Did we make a mistake signing up for this?

We clicked ‘submit’ for a reason: ‘submit’ not just for registration, but for the unfolding of the experience. Submit to our fears that keep us isolated and judgemental. Submit to our beliefs that may or may not serve us any more. Submit to the fact that each and every person in the group is not a random element or distraction from your deep dive, but an aspect of yourself, whether you want to own it or not. The part of you terrified to touch old stories and habits. The part of you needing to control your surroundings. The part of you needing to know what is happening every moment ahead of every moment. The part of you wanting to just lie in the sun and forget about the world. The part of you angry and not knowing why. The part of you sad and afraid to show it. The part of you convinced you have built a good life but need others to keep reminding you. Submitting to it all not as why do they … and why don’t they … but as invitations for self, mirrors of self,  is gamechanging for any experience. Seeing on the outside what festers on the inside brings light, awareness, and options for choice: keep festering or allow release and healing. That’s hard, owning that in the fire building within, amid the urges to scream, ‘For the love of God, would you just grow up!’ that the intensity is created by you for you. That screaming is at yourself. The choice of what to do next is all yours.

On the final day, threads are again rewoven, this time in shared chaos of transition again, into the wider world. For some, back to the relief of routine and familiar surroundings. For others, a return to the familiar with new insights and outlook. For me, this time, there is no going back, no desire to return to what was. There is a call to be home and I will honour that. Retreats for me have become a place to cocoon, gestate, and emerge from. Home will always be home.