Spiritual Retreat
I used to think of a spiritual retreat as a communal exercise. Something I was called to partake in to be spiritually lifted and physically grounded. I was with my “people” and our like-minded rituals of meditation, music, and mysticism supercharged our ability to go within and seek collective wisdom to then share with each other and the world. It was a welcomed time out to physically retreat from the chaos of life and feel supported and understood without fear of judgment. Individually, each woman was unique, gifted, and wise. Together, we felt larger than life. Never underestimate the power a group of determined women possess to right wrongs and heal the world. I witnessed some tiny miracles in my time with these magnificent women, and I am a better person because of them.
But something changed. What that was or is remains a mystery to me. All I know is that a shift has taken place within me. I can’t exactly recall when the shift began. I feel as though it slowly unraveled over the past year or so. I think it’s probably safe to suggest that the pandemic played a role in my current stage of evolution. I think we all changed. How could we not?
The Role of an Introvert
I have always been an introvert playing an extroverted role in the world. I don’t long for socialization or to be with people for long periods of time unless our time together is meaningful. Idle talk agitates my inner peace and often exhausts me. When I am engaged in pointless chatter, my inner dialogue is always saying, “Reader’s Digest version, please and thank you.” Ironically, I must emit a sense of approachability because I can’t go anywhere without a stranger sparking a conversation with me. Maybe I need to smile less. Yes, that must be it.
The isolation of lockdown wasn’t a huge burden for me to bear. I enjoyed working from home and found I was self-disciplined enough to be successful at it. I felt quite productive and my cats loved photo-bombing my virtual classes. What’s not to love about that? Being home so much also granted me permission to hide under my rock. I didn’t need to feel guilty about turning down an invite because there were none. And when I had to go out grocery shopping, I could hide behind my mask. People still knew I was smiling behind that mask, I just know it!
Peeling Back the Layers
All-in-all, I learned that time alone has been a gift. Unable to partake in communal activities, I was given a guilt-free chance to retreat into myself. My meditations became more like conversations with myself or God. It granted me time and space to acknowledge the excessive emotional baggage that I have been carrying for decades. The stillness tested my resilience and desire to be a better person. It has also presented me with situations and memories that have challenged my ability to forgive others who have betrayed me. I honestly thought I had released much of my anger and hurt directed at those I trusted and loved only to realize that the layers keep getting deeper and deeper. Once one layer is addressed, another reveals itself. Forgiveness is never finite when one party is not allowed to be heard. And an olive branch of terms and conditions is not an apology but rather more emotional hijacking and manipulation. No thank you, move along. I don’t need you in my life if that is your idea of a relationship or reconciliation.
I get quieter as time rolls on. I am learning to stop myself more often when attempting to relate or be helpful. Most people don’t want help. They’d rather hang onto their “rightness” and blame you for interfering if it shatters their belief system or requires accountability. I respectfully withdraw. Their journey is none of my business unless they invite me in. I’ll share my wisdom with someone who appreciates it. I’ve noticed that many of my relationships have waned with the absence of face-to-face time. Out of sight, out of mind. It’s okay, I’m still your friend but won’t beg you to be mine. My trusted circle becomes smaller with age. I am okay with that. I have no doubt that players will come and go as the years go by. Those that endure the test of time become my touchstones and those who falter and fade serve as lessons, which become the impetus for my evolution. Accepting this reality is a lesson in and of itself. I am not the kind of person who views relationships as disposable, so this has been a tough one for me. I think we all experience something like this as time goes on. Maybe this is just the way it is.
Something to Smile About
Like the tide, we all ebb and flow but our source remains the same. So, wherever you are on your journey, know that you’re in the right place. Are you seeking community? Great, your tribe is waiting. Are you longing for silence and reflection so you can reshape yourself? Awesome, keep digging deeper. Eventually, our different paths will bring us all home and when it does, I’ll be the one smiling back at you.