last weekend i went on a women's retreat.
on this retreat, i was there alone. meaning, i knew no one, almost. i had had one coffee with the woman who i was sharing a room with, and i had met one other woman, once. but basically- i was alone. and that was good because the last time i retreated alone but with other people, i met God met again. and that was real real. in the wind, in the grass, in the sounds of the leaves and the light, speaking as God does, in my heart. the things spoken were so desperately needed, so craved, that i sat in that garden and cried. because i was so known. because i felt so loved. held. promised. safe.
that was the first time i'd gone away with a group where i knew nobody. it was a strange experience. i'm not shy and i don't suffer from social anxiety, but i realized after a few minutes that when no one knows you, first impressions matter- as in- they kind of define you for the weekend. so i had this moment of wondering who i was? or who i should be? or wanted to be? and then i remembered that we are so not one thing, that trying to decide about which version of myself to be for 2 nights, was going to be exhausting, and that just showing up as myself - even if a very shabby, tired and swiss cheese self- was going to have to be fine. that what really mattered was showing up for myself, which i had become very bad at.
that is what not retreating is, it's not showing up for yourself. and it's hard to show up for yourself, if you have forgotten who you are, but that is all the more reason to retreat.
retreat- the process of moving back or away from, especially something hazardous
that weekend was in new england in the spring. it's theme was about gardening our lives. i had just emerged from a very long, cold, snow-filled winter, i was desperate for spring. i had just emerged from an even longer season of knowing that life is hazardous. of knowing the danger of not pausing, not reflecting, of not moving back but rushing straight ahead into enemy lines- where harm happens.
i have a deep desire to be known. known and still loved. known and forgiven my flaws and still loved. known and loved- as. i. am. this is what God does, only better. because God knows my truest self- the one i can't even see fully- the one i try to stay close to when i find part of it before it slips away. and God also knows that girl who showed up alone on a retreat wondering who she was, and He loves her.
it's more amazing to be loved when you are so lost. when you can't remember. when it takes a long time to see yourself the way God sees. so that time in the early spring of sitting with God in the garden and feeling that known and loved feeling, was life changing.
this retreat was different. it wasn't that it was in africa, or that i knew one person instead of no one, or that God didn't show up (because He did). it was different because i am different. because i didn't wonder who i was to be, because i didn't see me in versions. because i have learned to internally retreat. to show up for myself. to be okay with where i am and to know that a known, open, vulnerable swiss cheese self is better than a neatly packaged gouda self, because it's true. because it's real.
and all of that honesty and wholeness, makes me happy. to be still on the inside, to be still and known.
on this retreat, i was there alone. meaning, i knew no one, almost. i had had one coffee with the woman who i was sharing a room with, and i had met one other woman, once. but basically- i was alone. and that was good because the last time i retreated alone but with other people, i met God met again. and that was real real. in the wind, in the grass, in the sounds of the leaves and the light, speaking as God does, in my heart. the things spoken were so desperately needed, so craved, that i sat in that garden and cried. because i was so known. because i felt so loved. held. promised. safe.
that was the first time i'd gone away with a group where i knew nobody. it was a strange experience. i'm not shy and i don't suffer from social anxiety, but i realized after a few minutes that when no one knows you, first impressions matter- as in- they kind of define you for the weekend. so i had this moment of wondering who i was? or who i should be? or wanted to be? and then i remembered that we are so not one thing, that trying to decide about which version of myself to be for 2 nights, was going to be exhausting, and that just showing up as myself - even if a very shabby, tired and swiss cheese self- was going to have to be fine. that what really mattered was showing up for myself, which i had become very bad at.
that is what not retreating is, it's not showing up for yourself. and it's hard to show up for yourself, if you have forgotten who you are, but that is all the more reason to retreat.
retreat- the process of moving back or away from, especially something hazardous
that weekend was in new england in the spring. it's theme was about gardening our lives. i had just emerged from a very long, cold, snow-filled winter, i was desperate for spring. i had just emerged from an even longer season of knowing that life is hazardous. of knowing the danger of not pausing, not reflecting, of not moving back but rushing straight ahead into enemy lines- where harm happens.
i have a deep desire to be known. known and still loved. known and forgiven my flaws and still loved. known and loved- as. i. am. this is what God does, only better. because God knows my truest self- the one i can't even see fully- the one i try to stay close to when i find part of it before it slips away. and God also knows that girl who showed up alone on a retreat wondering who she was, and He loves her.
it's more amazing to be loved when you are so lost. when you can't remember. when it takes a long time to see yourself the way God sees. so that time in the early spring of sitting with God in the garden and feeling that known and loved feeling, was life changing.
this retreat was different. it wasn't that it was in africa, or that i knew one person instead of no one, or that God didn't show up (because He did). it was different because i am different. because i didn't wonder who i was to be, because i didn't see me in versions. because i have learned to internally retreat. to show up for myself. to be okay with where i am and to know that a known, open, vulnerable swiss cheese self is better than a neatly packaged gouda self, because it's true. because it's real.
and all of that honesty and wholeness, makes me happy. to be still on the inside, to be still and known.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.