Tears Tell Tall Tales

One late August night, under the covers with my laptop, I registered for The Luscious, Creative Comfort Retreat at Kripalu, a yoga and health center.  I was excited to meet the effervescent and wise facilitator, Jennifer Louden. And The Bona Fide Butterflies, my cohorts in designing programs for women, would soon be planning our January winter retreat, Turning Inward. I thought it would be great to experience a retreat as a participant rather than facilitator.

What I didn’t expect was the enormous resistance I felt the week before. Those annoying voices in my head saying things like “You don’t need this.” and “Stop looking at other people’s ways of doing things and trust yourself.” “You can’t afford it – it’s not too late to cancel!” Even “My animals will miss me too much.” (?!?!) I got into a funk, didn’t want to go. What I knew deep down was that I was afraid. But off I went anyway.

When I drove up to the Kripalu building I was shocked. It looked like a hospital. Or a mental institution! (Can they sue me for that?) But I knew what mattered was what was inside the building (how metaphoric.) I entered and met an incredibly pleasant desk clerk, took an invigorating yoga class, ate a delicious meal, and then our group met. We journaled, shared our stories, collected pictures that spoke to us, began peeling away the layers that were hiding our true desires.

That’s when my tears started, no sobbing,

just a steady flow down my face. Off switch broken. Crying because I was crying. But I was held in a safe place by a group of women who were there, not to fix me but to listen, to witness. No judgment. Jennifer had set it up this way.  My fears surfaced, I got to look them squarely in the eye and say, “Thank you for thinking you’re keeping me safe but you are also keeping me from growing. From standing in my truth.  Please move over.”

  

In the morning, we continued our journey together, mixing it up with dance and laughter. My tear ducts were not empty yet and I wondered if I’d ever stop feeling so emotional. Much to my relief, I got to that place by the end of the morning.  I was done (for now) with the fear, the sadness, the story I was allowing to loop around in my head. And ready to move forward. 

With kindness. 

To myself.

 The focus on self-acceptance was exactly what I needed. I had allowed the parts of me that want me to take the same old paths to muddy up the road. The weekend was a reminder that the road to the wisdom of my heart is a new road. Yeah, it’s scary but if I remember to get quiet and take amazing care of myself, the rewards will be fulfillment.
Joy.

                    

As Jennifer told us, a retreat is a chance to slow down and hit the reset button. I’ve come back into my life with a better understanding of self-acceptance and trust in myself. My Retreat has turned into My Advance. Two steps forward. yeah, there will be one step back but I keep collecting tools to get back on track sooner. And there are always those luscious retreats to sign up for. Under the covers.