When your most natural conversation in 5 days is not with the other guests, but a staff member you met in the laundry room, you know you are out of your comfort zone
About 18 months ago I attended a 5 day hiking and yoga retreat, set in a secluded spot within the South Island of New Zealand’s spectacular mountains. As the start day drew near and I realised that my backpack had holes in it, my only comfy yoga pants that still fitted were saggy and worn and that my feet had somehow grown since the last time I put on my hiking boots, I told myself I did not want to go. I think the only reason I forced myself to pack my bag and get on the plane was because this was an experience that I had had my eye on for many years, and I knew it would be ridiculous to not do it.
I was feeling stuck about what direction to take at this mid-stage of life. Work was a hard slog and I had a busy life as a single mum. Regretful of paths I did not follow and daunted by the future, I hoped that this experience would bring inspiration and clarity. I am not unfamiliar with yoga retreats and I had assumed that at the very least, participation in the retreat would create a bonding group connection, the kind that would have me walking away with a strong sense of calm belonging and I was looking forward to this. But it did not happen.
Ok so I should mention that this retreat is next level. We are talking about luxury and dollars. It is not something that the average person randomly decides to attend, but for most in attendance, it was. We are talking about lives of luxury and dollars. It’s easy to think that you might enjoy joining in with the rich, even for 5 days. But as they sat around the dinner table sharing business backgrounds and discussing ski holidays in the Italian alps, being just a dissatisfied school teacher, I decided I did not deserve to be there. I believed I had nothing interesting to contribute and I retreated inside my shell. So I became not just a mere teacher, but an awkward mute as well. That no one wanted to sit next too.
With nowhere to hide and no one to hide behind, I had no choice, but to settle each day into my discomfort. Respite came on Wednesday, with a designated day of silence. Oh what a relief, to take a break from wishing I had a part in the conversations around me. In the afternoon I lounged on the deck and while other guests were busy writing in their journals, still with nothing to say, I took in the views. The barren mountains layered into the horizon. Hues of brown. Greens and blues. Endless winding lines and shadows. With nothing else to do, I took my pen and journal and for the first time in many years, I drew. The following day, with turmeric, paprika and blue spirulina from the kitchen, I added colours. I had finally arrived into a forgotten, comfortable and mindful place.
The silent day led into workshops that went a little deeper. With my theme for the retreat appearing to be lack of self esteem and self worth, in a guided visualisation I became aware of a thought pattern. I think many of us have a version of it, but perhaps how we react to it is different. (You are not good enough ) Don’t even try! (You are not good enough) Don’t bother to go! (You are not good enough) Don’t do it! What struck me for the first time, was that the actual purpose of these messages was not to put myself down, but to keep me safe, from feelings that might arise from potential rejection and failure. But by listening too often, I had stopped trusting myself and I had stopped trusting others. I took less risks where my emotions could be damaged and in doing so I may have avoided, or not committed to scenarios and situations which could have led to deeply fulfilling outcomes in relationships and work. At its core, I think the voice was working to protect me from experiencing one of the greatest fears of all – being vulnerable and alone.
So for 52 years I had been doing my best to avoid these feelings and here was this retreat spotlighting my fears like it was my own stage show. The thing is, after so many years, I think I am ok when I am on my own. I have successfully travelled, raised a child, owned and maintained property, paid my bills, provided life’s necessities and had fun. So if all this negative self-talk about not being good enough is essentially about avoiding being alone, too late! I can handle it. So there is absolutely no point to it! Besides, even when I am “on my own”, really, I am not, there is always family and friends to call on.
If I fail, if people walk away from me, or don’t invite me to their dinner table, I will be ok. In fact those things have already happened and I am ok. That means I can take some risks and put myself out there. I can open up to people and opportunities. I can contribute and experience a little or a lot. And through it all I can be me, because I am good enough. So I should try and I should go and I should do it. This is exciting. So now the question is, who the heck am I and what do I want to do?
I went to the retreat unsure of my future and came away none the wiser. I would never have predicted that my most valuable experience there would be because I didn’t connect with the other guests. But did some of those people end up valuing me for who I was, inviting me into their multimillion dollar lives? No. Of course not, I barely spoke the entire time. However, in the retreat afterglow, I understood that it doesn’t really matter what I do from here or where I go. What matters is how I do it. The intention, the integrity and the manner and attitude of how I do it. Ok, so I feel like there might be some Buddhists out there who already knew that? How I do things is who I am.
It is actually New Year’s eve as I finish writing this and I am at home, alone. I have invitations to be with others, but you know what, I have had a really big year and a busy few weeks and I am not feeling the energy to be social. I tested my readiness, I opened the door and walked outside. It was raining and cold. I came inside. I am quite content and I think now, I will eat some food, have a glass of wine and enjoy sitting at home.
Wishing you a happy and content year ahead.