Retreat

Why retreat? Doesn’t it sound like defeat, withdrawing, pulling back? Something an entity does when beaten, hopeless?

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Every year, I go on a retreat, and spend a lot of time in silence. I came across a terrific quote on this year’s retreat: Prayer is you talking to God. Meditation is God talking to you.

Every year, I give up. In a very intentional way, I say to myself, let’s go back. It feels like being a child again in many ways—all meals are prepared for us. There’s no shopping, no meal planning, no dishes, no leftovers to tyrannize my Sub Zero. I think that’s the most freeing part of the whole thing: the food thing. When you are a kid, you have tons of free time because you aren’t working for food, planning around food. You’re given a window—eat now—and then the kitchen closes.

I walked a labyrinth every day for six days. On the seventh day, I came home.

It’s like going to the dentist. After my six months visit, I always floss vociferously, and then it falls off again.  After the retreat, I’m calmer, wiser, simplified. It will fall away.  For me, going to church helps extend the half-life of the retreat—in that pure hour, the counter gets reset to zero again.  Every week, every day, a little retreat, a small pulling back, to see what is.

I expect to forget all this and then remember it again. Like sleep/wake. Like flossing. Like any long term love relationship.

High points–so many! I love to list the high points, best of all with a friend, so the high points can amplify each other into something super, something like prayer, thanks! 

But today there are too many. I am exhausted by the high points.  Junior calling from Okinawa. Such a high point!!!! Of the season. Meeting with a favorite favorite student so amazing she’s really my teacher. A call from a friend who makes me so happy. The most amazing green curry I have ever made, ever eaten. That I only kind of gobbled it. Being complimented on my posture. Reading my teaching evaluations.  This whole beautiful perfect day.  A call to a friend who makes me so smart. And he said, and here is is, what I learned today:

“The frightened part is always looking for something to do. There may be more to be gained by doing nothing. Just being.”

I just finished reading my teaching evaluations. This semester I got an A.  Maybe even an A+! Not all my students will agree I’m sure! But overall I am really, really happy with my evaluations. Of course the praise makes my heart sing. And the suggestions are good ones. Teaching is so very much like writing, I can always see ways to do it better next go round. I think that is the creative and energizing aspect of this work, that it can be shaped and improved and done well in an astonishing array of ways.  I want to go out and celebrate but I’m here in my office on Friday night trying to something like Salvage The Day.

I keep straigthening my office. I’m still labelling. Live to label. I miss the students. I miss getting ready for class. It’s this awkward in between time. I always hated summer vacation for this reason: I like school.

I think a lot of the mindless straightening–I come in here for hours and I don’t really know exactly what I am accomplishing–has to do with getting used to a kind of Emptiness.  The campus is so quiet. The halls are dark, dark because of the new energy saving motion sensing devices. No motion, no light.

So I’m here. Waving my arms every once in awhile. Clearing away a fantastic fulfilling semester, finishing a draft of a huge writing project, ending this, ending that. Finishing the pirate book. Finishing the chicken curry wow was it good. Putting away the coats and my collection of vintage sweaters.

Ready to begin the next good beginnings.