For a couple of years now, I’ve been going on week-long retreats with a group of women. The leaders are two of the wisest women I know, teachers and friends for decades, and the participants are their students. It’s a lovely blend of eastern and western teachings, practices and processing. And lots of down time. Resting, soaking in the hot springs, and deep conversations. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be on my way to my fifth of these retreats.
Five times I’ve left my family to spend a week at a hot springs. And no, I don’t have a live-in nanny. Or buckets of cash lying around. A couple of years ago, I would never have imagined I could do this even once, never mind five times.
In fact, when I first heard that my favorite teacher and her colleague were gathering a group of women for a retreat at the hot springs, I was filled with longing and envy.
I wanted to go so badly, I could taste it.
But there was no way. To be gone from my family for almost a whole week? No way. And to spend that kind of money? No way. That’s all there was to it. But then I heard other women in our community talking about going. They were moms. Some of them even had more than one kid. Or a husband who travelled. None of them seemed to be that much better off financially than our family. So how come they got to go and I didn’t?
Simple.
They decided to go. And then they figured out how to make it happen. They called in the grandparents. Or Dad worked from home a couple of afternoons after he picked up the kids. They arranged playdates and put dinners in the freezer. They decided that the retreat was more important than new clothes, new drapes or a weekend skiing. I don’t really know. But they decided.
It started to look like a remote possibility, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, so I just mentioned in casual conversation with my husband that this really cool thing was happening, and maybe someday I’d like to go. He was really sweet and said, “Well if you really want to go, we can probably figure something out.” After confirming that he wasn’t travelling that week it began to look like the logistics might work, but there was still the money issue.
The retreat was scheduled for right after my birthday, so I asked my mom if she’d consider sponsoring my retreat as a birthday gift. With her usual enthusiastic generosity, she agreed immediately. “I’d much rather give you this experience than give you a THING” was what she said.
Wow. I was really going to get to do this thing. Unbelievable. And it was. I had never spent such a spacious week. It was full of laughter, tears, heartbreaking insights and new inspirations.
I’ve since made a habit of these retreats. They happen twice a year, and so far, I’ve managed to make every one.
When I got back last time, my mom said to me, “I’m imagining you with a cosmic tan.” And that was the best description I could have ever come up with.
Am I extremely fortunate?
Yes.
Indulgent?
Perhaps.
Self-centered?
You bet. And in the best possible way.
Here’s the thing I’ve discovered about retreats. It’s partly about what you don’t do. I don’t even have to think about food. It shows up and is delicious. And then someone else washes the dishes. No little piles of things that need to be cleaned, put away, handled, mailed, returned, etc. etc. No email to check. For a few days, the only person I’m responsible for is myself. Letting go of the schedules, the routines, the rushing around is delicious.
But it’s not just about what you don’t do. At the last retreat, a mom of four said, “If all I did was sleep late, soak in the pools and have someone cook for me, that would be lovely, but it wouldn’t be as nurturing as what we’re doing.”
What makes a retreat different from a vacation is that it’s more than just stepping outside your usual routines. At its best, a retreat puts back some of what you give out all the time.
It’s not that there’s no schedule, but it’s a different schedule. It’s not a week of doing nothing, but a time of doing things that replenish instead of deplete. In the retreats that I’ve done, it’s meditation, chi kung, dreamwork, cosmic dance and more. These are all different ways of tapping into whatever you want to call the limitless source of energy, inspiration, abundance, and love.
That’s why I say they are self-centered in the best possible way. Not because they center on the self, but because they help me center myself. They bring me back to the center of myself.
My next retreat is at the end of the month, and I’m already looking forward to the renewal and fresh insights that I always bring home. My cosmic tan…
Virtual Comfort Retreat
But before that one comes around, there’s another retreat that I’m looking forward to, and you can come along on this one.
It’s a virtual retreat. (No travel! No packing! Play along at home in your jammies!)
This one is being offered by the amazing Jen Lauden the Comfort Queen. When I first heard about it, I was intrigued by the thought of a virtual retreat, but not really sure it could possibly be as rejuvenating as the ones at the hot springs.
But when I got a look at the list of people she has lined up for this one… well let me tell you, I changed my mind in a hurry. First up is Patti Digh. PATTI DIGH! Honestly, that was all it took. A chance to listen to Patti Digh, live and in person (and then to have the recording, so I can listen to Patti Digh whenever I want to?!) That was it. I was in.
And then I read down the list. Hiro Boga and Fabeku doing their thing together? I’ve heard Hiro, and I’ve heard Fabeku. Both are awesome in their own right. But I can’t wait to hear what they’ve got planned together.
And how about using the tools of improv comedy in everyday life? Given how much moms have to improvise every single day, and how we dance on the line that divides comedy from tragedy… I can’t wait to hear this one.
Intrigued? You can read all about it here Jennifer Lauden’s 2010 Virtual Comfort Retreat.
Early bird registration ends this week, so save yourself $50 and sign up before Feb. 5.
Note: the link above is an affiliate link. If enough of you register, it’ll help fund my retreat. But seriously, I’d be shouting from the rooftops about this one anyway. I’ve already registered, because I’m so sure it’s going to be worth every penny.
You could certainly spend next weekend ‘doing nothing,’ but if you really need to fill the well, hanging out with the amazing crowd Jen has lined up will probably do the trick much better.
Hope to see (hear?) you there!
