Retreat Report

Humility – pulling up to a Monastery and choosing to simplify my life for a few days was scary last year, and yet this year felt like a welcome relief. I have a tendency to pile things on my plate, to add mischief and misery to a life that is pretty well blessed. I work hard, I volunteer, I read, I write, I do art, I decorate for Christmas, I spend a lot of time with my family …and I sometimes get all of it tangled up into a big ball of nonsense.

The humility comes in the recognition that I can simply let it go. I do not have to struggle with the knots and the tangles.

Walking up the wet, brick steps and seeing the potted herbs by the door and the fat black-and-white cats lolling on the porch, I know that “it” is not as complicated as I sometimes believe.
I just returned from four days on a retreat. Here are some musings.

Serenity – there is the sound of cars in the far distance. The way you can hear them hum along a road through the winter air. And yet the trees, standing stark and still in the yard bring me back from humming automobiles to a place of serenity. If I choose to see and hear, I can look at a crimson oak leaf stick to the slate and form a picture perfect outline of a life lived out to its full extent. I can hear a faint plop of an old rain drop fall finally from the eave onto the ground next to the church. I can hear the sound of my own breath, quietly in my mouth. I can stop. Fully. And even though I am hurtling through the atmosphere thousands of miles an hour while spinning at a rapid rate, I feel a stillness that can be felt anywhere. If I just choose.

Again, the humility because I do not have to judge my inability to do this in the hustle of my daily life. I’m just grateful that I can find it anywhere.

Gratitude – I think there is something about serenity and humility that leads me naturally to gratitude. And vice versa. Gratitude brings me to the center of stillness because I cannot be grateful and agitated at the same time. Maybe come can. God bless them. I, however, have to forego the agitation in order to be thankful for what I have and what abundance my life is made of.

Rhythm – natural rhythms are not easy to hear, to feel and to live by. I have set myself up to live by the clock, by mealtimes, by “oh-my-god-its-11-oclock-I-have-to-go-to-sleep” and other fairy tales.

Yet, when I take the time out, and simplify my life, I find that even I – complicated I – can tune into natural rhythms feeling tired and feeling energized, feeling hungry, feeling full in ways that are sustainable and intimate. Taking the time, to set aside the ‘other stuff’ and rest awhile, I find that there is an easy intimacy with myself. There really isn’t a lot of judgment or chaos. I can feel the chill in the air, I can feel a laugh start deep in my abdomen, I can yearn for the touch of my husbands hand on my cheek. And I can recognize these as parts of me. And my rhythm.