Years ago, one of my Seminary professors referred to church as “Base Camp for mountain climbers.” I like the analogy, but Base Camp for me has always been retreat. And by retreat, I mean an intentional time, set apart and away, for spiritual refreshment, whatever that means in context. Reading retreats, writing retreats, yoga retreats, silent retreats, art retreats, walking retreats — they all became a regular, intentional and very nourishing part of my spiritual disciplines.
When I moved to Massachusetts, I lost my retreating rhythm (actually, lost rhythms across the board), and didn’t get back on track until last year, when I gave myself the gift of a day retreat at a local Roman Catholic retreat center. It was so renewing, so familiar, it was just like that glass of ice cold water when you’re parched: I didn’t know how much I needed it until that first sip hit my lips. Ah!
Before the Pandemic hit, I was able to attend a few weekend retreats, and they too were so restorative. But now, most retreat centers remain closed; the few that are open in New England have long wait lists.
This morning, however, I virtually attended a Mini-Retreat for Women on Zoom, with the Sufi poet Jelaluddin Rumi as our muse. It was 90 minutes of pure delight … rest … illumination … nourishment. In times of crisis, I tend to overfunction, even in prayer. So, this is one of the gifts of the morning I’ll continue to unpack from Rumi:
“Hey! — the grass beneath a tree is content and silent. a squirrel holds an acorn in its praying hands, offering thanks. It looks like the nut tastes sweet. I bet the prayer spiced it up somehow. The broken shell falls on the grass, looks up, and says “Hey!” And, the squirrel looks down and says, “Hey!” I have been saying “Hey!,” lately too, to God. Formalities just weren’t working.”
I hope that sometime soon you, too will say “Hey!'” to all that is divine. I hope that you can put aside formalities and expectations and all the striving, and carve out intentional time for rest and renewal. And, I hope you’ll give yourself the gift of retreat regularly.
It may be one of the most important things you do … for the world.