Retreat: Day 4
Day 4 arrived with a new sense of routine, and it gave me comfort despite not having the type of connection with others that I was used to. And, with that, I was starting to deeply connect to myself.
My body and mind seemed to welcome in whatever was arriving in the moment.
One of the practices I learned during the retreat was walking meditation. While the concept is straightforward, it can be challenging. This type of meditation does not involve wandering through the woods; rather, it involves walking a short path of eight to ten paces, where you focus intently on each step, from heel to toe, pausing to really take in the experience. I slowly transferred my weight from one foot to the other, moving with deliberate slowness and intention. This practice began to spark a deep awareness of my connection to the earth and the balance of life itself.
By day 4, I went from wearing tennis shoes for the walking meditation, to walking barefoot. I wanted to experience each blade of grass and every rock beneath my feet, to feel how the ground rose to meet me in its uneven, organic form. It was beautiful in every way.
I had my lunch on the back porch of my sleeping cabin, opting to eat near the brook that began to beckon me to sit down and have a relationship with it. The kind of connection that doesn’t have words, just respect for one another.
When I think about my time on this retreat, I recall feeling a sense of grounding and home. It’s quite amazing what silence will stir up. No books or magazines, no journals, no phones…no distractions. That - paired with incredible teachings, well… I’ll just say silent retreats are very special. When all of life gets stripped away, a new version blossoms in the most unexpected ways.
There came a time during the late day silent meditation where feelings rose inside me I could not ignore. Feelings that became suffocating and heavy. There was one thing holding me back from moving forward. I felt the strong urge to immediately get up from my seat and go back to the woods. There was something I needed to get ride of. Something I needed to throw into the woods or the brook. I had something with me that I no longer wanted. It was overwhelming me.
If I was quick and quiet I might just be able to sneak out unnoticed.
So, I gently got up. Then I swiftly walked out. Grabbing my shoes from the front porch, I ran for the woods. I stopped momentarily at the cross at the top of the hill. I dropped to my knees to thank God for this release and being with me through it all. Then, I ran heading towards the second bridge on the long hiking path. It felt forever away. I knew I needed to be out of the woods by dark - so I ran faster. Then, coming to the bridge, I stood there catching my breath, knowing I was done with the old me and walking into the new me. I threw the item in the water and ease overcame me. Relief. I wasn’t there long. I didn’t need to be. No regret.
Feeling weightless, I made my way out of the woods and back to myself.
Sometimes you need symbolism to move you forward.
We had a bonfire that evening and for the first time sitting in a circle across from each other, I felt a sense of unity among us. I was sensing the stories in others, even though I had no idea what they were. Some free. Some with answers. Some still searching.
That evening, as we made our way back to our sleeping cabins, I looked up to admire the stars scattered across the dark, inky sky. I remembered how I used to love to gaze at the stars in my youth; it felt as though it had been quite some time since I had done so.
As I walked up the ramp to my cabin, I thought, the best thing to do right now was to grab a blanket and lay under the stars. I laid alone on the back porch of the cabin, sky wide with twinkling light among the endless space. I let the moment hold me for a long while. The clear and quiet night offered itself up to me as I caught sight of a shooting star cross the heavens… and my heart sang.
Next week I’ll share with you my last day at the retreat. Moments that surprised me greatly and moments that made me not want to leave. Until then…
May you be well. May you be safe. May you be happy.
All my love for you,
Allie XO
