Welcome to retreat, come and BE

Waves crashing on the shore, an all-to-unfamiliar sound.  The pitter-patter of rain between short bursts of downpour.  Darkness, no other sources of light.  No competing sounds with those waves breaking.  The occasional wisp of air.  The cool and still air.  The lovely Decaf brewed coffee.  Sitting on a cold wooden bench.  My senses feeling...

You might think I’d give writing a break whilst on retreat, but the truth is I don’t get anywhere near enough time to retreat into my own head and heart.  Writing is what I’ve done for nearly 15 years now to connect to me, to my life, to life itself, to others as I reflect on my relational performance, and ultimately to God.  Writing is connection.

It’s a privilege it is to feel.  It really is.  I’ve grown to love the feeling of the primary emotions that many people ordinarily shun.  Feeling my skin, feeling my sadness, feeling my lack and accepting it, feeling how small I am in my world, yet how beloved I am by the Creator.  These are all huge blessings.  They’re connection, connection with the eternal.

I returned from leave four days ago.  Those past four days back at work have been a whirlwind of information, fielding calls, emails, texts, and all of this is noise.  From presenting a brand-new 3-hour workshop for the first time, to meeting with six different firefighting crews over two days, to commencing an investigation into a critical incident, to conducting four counselling sessions in my other work.  The past four days has felt like a marathon at sprint speed, and I’ve been constantly connected to adrenalin, apart from the counselling which I find gets me into an entirely different, contemplative space—it’s just another person’s material and not my own (which is fine).

As I sit here on this worn bench at this wonderful Baptist campsite that holds so many good memories, we’re welcomed into the presence of freedom, space to contemplate, find God, and to hear what life is saying to us.

At this point of finding space has finally arrived, I do wonder how YOU are going.  Have you had time to have that honest chat with yourself about how you’re faring?

Honestly, I’m interested.

How do you connect with yourself?  It’s not just introverts that need to get away and find a place to find themselves all over again.  Extraverts burn out too.  Too much inevitably is too much.

How are you going with your self-care?  How long’s it been since you got lost inside a book, or on a hike, or within the concepts of the enormity of life?  Jesus had to be alone, and it wasn’t because he was an introvert.  That’s a secular attribution that he was.  Jesus loved people, but he also knew his life force was connection with the Father.

It’s better to be honest about being frustrated than fake a false joy.  It’s better to admit there’s a gap and that we’ve still not found what we’re looking for.  There’s no shame in not having the answers—and indeed, it’s refreshingly courageous to stand up in a room of fakers and tell the authentic and vulnerable truth.

At least that way the door to one’s healing is cracked ajar.

How are you going?  How are you REALLY going?

All I can tell you is that FIVE minutes of this wave-pounding, raining, cold bliss is enough to show me that a whole weekend doing this is going to do me and my life and my family a LOT of good.

Welcome to feeling.  Come and feel!  Welcome to retreat.