These last few days

What’s a retreat?  

Some retreats are basically going to a “cool” place – away from where you normally live and do work, but you go there specifically to do work – Working off-site.  

Some retreats are basically going to a “cool” place to get away from your normal life to really rest, relax, etc.  Like a kind of vacation.

Some retreats are basically going to some place away from your regular life to specifically pay more attention to the God-stuff – the basic religious retreat I suppose.

Yesterday I came back from a men’s clergy retreat that was perhaps a combination of these.   We were at a Methodist camp in MD across the river from Harper’s Ferry WV.   A very nice rustic scene.   Granted it was early Feb, so it as cold for sure, and the trees had few if any leaves, but still a very nice place.  

And the guy who led us is a trained therapist and group facilitator – we didn’t do therapy, but we did have some work to do, and we were consciously invited to look deeper into the well-of-the-Spirit.

It wasn’t navel-gazing.    Neither was the imagined wild-man thing of hugging trees and primal screaming, and all that stuff some men hear about and reject it as totally hokey.      

Did we talk about life?   Yes.

Did we talk about God in the midst of it all?   Yes again. 

But it was certainly a lot more too!   

It was about telling stories…

and hearing stories…

and recognizing stories…  

It was about hearing one man’s story, and hearing your story in the middle of it.   It was about “voice”, and claiming your voice, and listening to voices… and “the voice”, and hearing what’s being said between the lines… and what’s not being said at all.    

This retreat seemed to give me much food for the soul for this work I do.   It has certainly left me with a lot of good things to ponder, wrestle with, think about.  

And I feel almost tempted to share this with you out of excitement – the excitement someone may feel when they’ve found a marvelous item, a rare find at some antique mall.    

I’ve written already a few drafts of this e-mail in my excitement to share.   But I find myself editing, deleting, removing portions.   I am acutely aware you didn’t go.  And as a result, if I were to write much of what I heard, learned, thought about, processed (and am still processing) although quite valuable to me… most of you would stop reading out of sheer boredom!    

I’ve participated in many physically challenging events.   In these last few years, a good portion of these events happened to be competitive.   There’s a lot of internal work that happens as you train for physically challenging events… as it turns out, a good portion of the competition is internal.   

Lot’s of things come up.   The very first layer of this onion is about the physical – you want to stop the activity;  stop running… stop training... stop practicing.   It’s too hard!      It’s a lot easier to rest, sleep, eat.   Of course it is.  

But once you peel that layer back, you find out there’s another one; can this body keep going?   The deeper questions are… can this mind keep going?   Can this heart keep going?   Can this “will” keep going?   One more mile… one more hill… one more step… one more breath…

Sometimes, as you work toward that limit,  you find other layers of the onion.   Sometimes memories find you along the way.   Some of them hide along the trail, peaking.   Some of them grab you with a bear-hug, like a friend you haven’t seen in a long time; People you’ve not thought about in a very long time, memories of sacred times or places.   Anger wells up sometimes.   Where is all this coming from?   What are you thinking about?    Or not thinking?      Where are you?   And how did you get there?    

… And then comes the place of no mind.   No memories.   No emotion.  Nothing but you and what you’re doing.    You just do.   And it’s okay.   You’re there… running, jumping, climbing, alone or with others, with a pack on your back or not,   but there’s a sense of presence.    Christians would call it “The Communion of Saints”.     You may be alone… but you’re not lonely.      

But after I cross the finish line, and it’s all over, it’s like a good friend has moved away.   You’ve said good-bye, and they’re gone.   The memory is of it all, the training – the event itself, is always meaningful to me in the personal, inwardly intimate way.  

But how can I explain it and have all this make sense to you in the same way it makes sense to me?   I could try…  but then, I ask myself: What if I’m not making any sense?   Are they bored as I’m trying to explain?   How can I explain it to you without sounding hokey?    

I don’t know – does this sound hokey so far?      

So what I usually say is… “It was a good run”   or   “It was really fun”    or   “It was hard, but I made it”   and I might have a few other stories thrown in for fun…     

So here I am, trying to share about this time away at this retreat.   In fact, I think I’m taking a risk already – most of you probably think I talk too much as it is, as evidenced by this already (perhaps to some of you) way too long message.    

The focus of this retreat was threefold:

- Conscious Living

- Skillful Living

- Artful Living

“Relationship” is the key word in all this.  Entering into relationship with people, events, moments… and being aware of who you are in the middle of the moments.  

I have been tempted to share all the things that we talked about, all the things I heard the men say, the things that made me stand back and ponder deeply.   

Conscious Living relies on awareness… we are invited to practice the disciplines of being –attentive, -perceptive, and –receptive

Conscious Living is informed by wisdom… what are the sources of your wisdom?  And how do you cultivate a relationship with these sources?

Conscious Living is manifested through courage… courageous actions of the heart; the willingness to risk standing out, not for it’s own sake, but when it becomes inevitable.

Skillful Living is about how my awareness of these help me live better… in my relationships, in my work, in myself.     

Artful Living challenges me to live vibrantly.  

“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls” – Pablo Picasso.  

The older we get, the less we laugh

The older we get, the less creative acts we engage in – or at least we re-define “creative act” so it becomes a pretty high bar to reach!   “I’m not an artist!”

The older we get, the less questions we tend to ask  

It’s interesting… I find myself editing what I’m trying to say here.   Maybe you’ll find it too simple-minded.    Maybe it’s too stupid.   Maybe I’m talking too much again!       

Well… if that’s the case, you don’t have to read anymore.

For those of you willing to tolerate a little more of my encounters with time and life…

  

When was the last time you asked:  Where is the sacred meaning in this?   

This presupposes we even know what the sacred is.    Ahh, but we do!    We do.   That which helps us discern the sacred in life is usually covered up with dust…. But it’s there! 

What are your thoughts about the question?     

Is this even a question that should be asked?  

And if not… why not?    

Eric Liddell, one of the real-life characters in the movie Chariots of Fire said:   “I believe God made me for a purpose, but I also believe He made me fast.   And when I run, I feel his pleasure.”  

Where is your pleasure?        

“Get real!!!    This is real-life.   Not pie-in-the-sky spirituality!”

Why isn’t this a “real-life” question?       

Okay, there it is… if I can type it in these words, it doesn’t seem like a lot, does it?   Two and a half days worth of being invited to be present with life, boiled down to some (relatively few – considering it was two days worth) lines of text.  

And yet – I have shared as I can, uncovered what made sense to me, lifted up some things that resonated with me.   

I have left renewed… encouraged… I have remembered.   

I suppose it never hurts to lean over the well on occasion and look into the blackness and be reminded the deeper water is still there.

Peace,

Pr. C-