A Retreat Gives Us Permission To Do Something Different
There is something about going away that changes the way we see things.
Maybe it’s the physical distance from our everyday lives. Maybe it’s being somewhere surrounded by trees, water and open space. A retreat gives us permission to do something different, we step out of our usual routines and we finally have enough quiet to hear what has been underneath all the noise.
I’ve been thinking about this as Amber and I prepare for our return to Whidbey Island in June 2027.
A little pocket of time
We first created this retreat together in 2022, and I have thought about it often since. There was something very special about those days. The women who came, the conversations that unfolded, the laughter, the tears, the quiet moments, the creativity, and the feeling that we had somehow created a little pocket of time outside of ordinary life.
I’m so happy we’re doing it again.
We called this retreat Sacred Pause because I think that is what so many of us need. A pause that is more than a holiday or a vacation. A pause where we aren't rushing to see everything, do everything or be everything for everyone else.
The gift of stopping
As women, we spend so much of our lives responding to what is needed around us. There are always emails, meals, appointments, work, family, responsibilities and people who need something from us. Even when we have time off, it can be surprisingly difficult to truly stop. We are often caretakers, we are the ones who hold the mental and emotional load for family member, for coworkers, for our friends and family.
I know this from my own experience. Sometimes I can be sitting still and still feel as though I am doing.
The gift of retreat is that it gives us somewhere to put all of that down for a little while.
Letting the place do some of the work
Whidbey Island is such a beautiful place to do that. The Whidbey Institute is surrounded by trees and trails and quiet places to wander. There is a labyrinth, beautiful gardens and plenty of space to be outside. You can:
Walk without needing to get anywhere.
Sit under a tree because you noticed the light. Taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon because your body asked you to.
Make something with your hands without worrying whether it is any good.
Write something down because it surprised you.
These are small things, but they can become doorways.
Listening in a different way
During the retreat, Amber and I will weave together yoga, somatic movement, meditation, writing and art. These are practices I love individually, but I especially love what happens when we put them together.
Sometimes the body knows something before the mind has words for it.
Sometimes putting words on a page allows us to see a story differently.
Sometimes making an image can express something that words can't quite reach.
And sometimes nothing needs to be expressed at all. We can simply notice.
There is room for nothing
One of the things I want most for this retreat is spaciousness. There will be practices and gatherings, but there will also be plenty of unstructured time. You won't be expected to participate in everything. You might want to spend an afternoon writing or you might want to walk. They’ll be an opportunity to make art, to curl up with a book or you might discover that your really want to do absolutely nothing.
You don't have to know
I think we often imagine that we need to arrive at a retreat with a particular intention. A question we want answered. A problem we want to solve. Something we want to change.
But you don't have to know, you can come just as you are. Perhaps you’re at a crossroads, or the beginning of something new or you could simply be tired and need some time that is yours. Maybe you just have a feeling that you need to get away and that is enough.
Whidbey Island, 2027
So, in June 2027, Amber and I will gather again at the Whidbey Institute for five days of movement, meditation, writing, art, nature, conversation, rest and whatever else wants to emerge. I have a feeling there will be lots of laughter, and I imagine there will be some tears too. There will definitely be good food, beautiful walks and time around the table. And I hope there will be those wonderful moments that are impossible to plan for—the ones that happen when we give ourselves enough time and space to simply be together. If you feel a little tug when you read this, perhaps that's worth listening to. Maybe you need a pause too. I would love to share this one with you.