Posted by: Ingrid | August 9, 2007

The weekend

I had such high hopes for last weekend’s retreat.  Expectations so great I didn’t even know how high they’d climbed until they were dashed.  In hind sight, I can see in part that I was looking for understanding and being and the belonging that I can’t seem to find anywhere.  I knew a retreat couldn’t solve my problems, I knew that it wouldn’t make everything better, but I held onto some hope that it would hold that breathtaking onslaught of color at sunset or the moment in the rose garden or the minute the church hymn mingles with angel voices.  Those moments that rip the earthly veil and give just a glimmer of something mystical beyond.  And it was none of that.

There were good bracing ordinary moments over the weekend, cooking in the kitchen and walking through the Vista hills.  Then there was the running on Saturday, three times around the Salem loop where there is no such thing as flat, only a constant going up and coming down in the morning sunlight, the well-earned sweat, and the tired muscles.

I missed the depth and the layers of other retreats.  The time to revel in the sacrament of the ordinary and sift through levels of meaning in a thought, a word, an action.  And this… there was nothing extraordinary here.  It was… just a little dry, a little stale, a little flat.

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Responses

  1. I’m sorry it did not go the way you had hoped for, but can I just say that was some “hot writing”! I wish I could express myself with the poetic and artful …. see I can’t even post a comment that is inspiring…or poetic…anyway, I’m sorry again, babe, but I want you to know that I wish I could explain things the way you can. It is so much easier to understand where you are at by the way you express yourself. You have so many qualities…can I have your #? What are you up to tonight?


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