On this retreat holiday, I am offering others time out to rest, unwind and relax. Here in Greece, participants are offered beach side apartments where they can just step outside and be instantly on the beach, sunshine and the clear blue sea waiting for them.
Yoga, mindful movement and meditation are held next to the beach each morning, so they can hear the gentle lap of the waves and feel the warmth of the sun on their skin. They can enjoy the gentle breeze, hear the sounds flowing over them and allow any thoughts to drift in and out, resting in a place of awareness without judgement, just being mindful of their body, mind and breath.
As the day continues, they may rest on the beach, take a trip out, attend a course or have a 1-1 to help them discover new ways of exploring self-care, healing, mindfulness and meditation.
I am here to guide them, hold space for them and ensure they feel comfortable, relaxed and at ease. I offer them my insights into the practices that have guided me over the years, and make sure they have time to share thoughts, ask questions and discuss their ideas, as well as time to practise, learn and grow.
On this retreat they get to choose their own path, decide what they would like to do and give themselves space to do what is right for them.
As the one holding space and guiding others, it’s much harder for me to relax, I need to be aware of the time, the pace, the flow of the methods I am teaching. To make sure I listen, provide breaks and offer feedback to questions. I need to be prepared, to think about my classes, have notes ready, handouts if needed and adapt each session to the people attending. I am in work mode, thinking, developing, creating, teaching, helping and supporting.
This is why I decided to have a go at Salt & Sky
’s one-day virtual writing retreat, to give myself time and space. I set my intentions, I made my plans and I thought I was ready for the day, but sometimes things don’t go as you might imagine.I woke up later than usual, but I had slept well and it meant that I was fresh and ready for the day. I got up made a cup of tea, sat on the balcony and watched the sun rise above the mountains.
Little sparrows chirp happy songs, they fly together in unison, hopping onto branches, saying hello before flying off again. The morning is still, not even a breeze, it really feels like a calm pause before the day starts. I enjoy my cup of tea with a still mind and calm heart and feel the welcoming golden light of the morning sun.
Afterwards I went inside, listened to the first recordings, rested in meditation, made a few notes, then got ready to take my writing for a walk.
As I wandered down the busy street, past the shops and the traffic, I was thinking about whether I had everything I might need for the day, worried I might have forgotten my suncream, when I saw a cat standing in the middle of the road. Concerned it might get run over, I called it over and made sure it got to safety.
This wasn’t just any cat though, it was my favourite beach cat, my friend from my previous visit, which I wrote about in ‘seeking comfort and support’. We were stood right next to the entrance to ‘cat beach,’ (as I call it), so I encouraged it to wander down to the beach with me. I just wanted to make sure it was safe and well, but it was asking for attention, so I ended up finding a shady spot and giving my friend lots of fuss, comforting them the same way they had comforted me before. It was my time to look after this lovely little furry friend, I felt I was paying it back for all the kindness it had offered me.
Sitting with the cat was special, but it wasn’t what I had in mind when I planned my day, I had a fixed idea and I wanted to follow it, so when others arrived on the beach and the cat ran to hide, I decided I would carry on with my day, knowing my lovely friend was now safe and it was ok to continue onwards. Leaving ‘cat beach’ I carried on up the road, bought myself an iced tea from the beach café and went to find a space on this new beach, the soft tiny pebbles and clear sea inviting me in.
I found a place half in the shade and half in the sun, a perfect yin, yang balance of shadow and light. I took out my phone and listened to Beth’s visualisation of ‘the island’ and laid back on my towel. She was describing the blue sea, the warm sun and the feeling of sand on your feet and I was there in it, on this island really experiencing those things. I had the ice cold drink and I could imagine the raft and the hammock she described, and it was truly real to me.
As I opened my eyes and pondered the ‘what if’ question she had encouraged us to ask, I could see more people arriving on the beach, they were already swimming in the sea and the only thing I wrote was “what if I was brave enough to wander into the sea without fear.”
I am not a natural beach person, I am scared of swimming in the sea, especially by myself, but I looked at the sea for a while, watching others enjoy the fresh cool water and built up the courage to do it.
I did it I went in, I waded and dipped and swam, I felt the soft pebbles under my feet and the coolness of the water as I gradually drifted further away from the shore. Nervous and slightly scared I stayed in the shallows away from the darker, deeper blues. I floated and drifted and swam, I could see some fish underneath me and kept my legs out of the way, but then something brushed past my leg and I let out a little yelp and swam for the shore.
Returning to my towel, I sat and looked at my phone and realised it was about to run out of battery, so I couldn’t continue to follow the virtual writing retreat.
As more people arrived I found myself surrounded, there were towels and sunbathers, children playing and beach chairs right in front of me. No one had been there when I had arrived and this feeling of being surrounded was too much of a distraction for me to me write. I gathered up my things and wandered over to the beach café to pause and think about what to do next. But as I sat there, I had the same feeling, this place of chatter and activity is not where I wanted to write. I needed space, calm and quiet, so I headed back to my apartment to continue.
I made lunch, read the next step of the day retreat, realising I had missed the morning stretch and yoga class and jumped ahead to the next writing invitation, I listened a little more, sat, contemplated and waited, but nothing happened, I still felt unable to write.
Writing doesn’t come easily to me, words don’t just pour out onto the page, I stumble and try and learn. I attend writing courses and work hard to find the right words to express myself, to share and to offer something of value. This all came flooding forwards as I willed the words to arrive on the page. Recognising they couldn’t be forced, I stopped, I rested, I took a shower, listened to an audio book, took a nap and sat on the balcony.
I was frustrated with myself, I wanted to dedicate this day to me, to my writing and to following Beth’s guidance in Salt and Sky. Had I failed to give myself a proper retreat and time for writing? I had wanted to do it all, to complete all of the writing prompts and to follow the journey, to be part of it all until the end, but instead I stopped. The perfectionist in me and the need to get things right, pulling at my mind.
I’d started the day with all my good intentions to look for gold in my writing, to search for the treasure I hold within, I lit incense, practised meditation and wrote:
May I create a sacred space to hold myself gently, to listen to the words I hold within and let joy, happiness and peace arise. May the shoots of my ideas grow into the light, becoming more real as those ideas blossom into joyful writing. May my heart be open and my mind be clear, so that I can truly love myself without boundaries and barriers, letting writing flow easily and my heart spill words onto the page. May I nurture myself lovingly and enjoy each moment of my day.
As I reflect back, I realise that I had followed my intentions by holding myself gently, nurturing myself lovingly, choosing what felt right to me in each moment and deciding not to push myself, but instead to take a step back and wait.
As I contemplate what a retreat is to me, and what I would like to create for myself, I realise that many of the retreats I have been on were to learn a new skill, to gain a qualification, to discover insights or delve deeper into the depths of my being. They haven’t always been restful, relaxing or nurturing, which is something that I am drawn to now, with time and space to feel clearer, calmer and more at ease.
In answering Beths question on ‘longing,’ I wrote:
I have a deep inner desire to feel connected, balanced, still and calm. To let life flow, to be at ease with all situations. To not try so hard all the time, but to sit back and let my inner wisdom guide me, so that I can be at ease in the world letting my inner knowing take my hand and show me the way. May I step back, knowing I am safe, held and guided to be exactly where I need to be.
I had set my intentions, paused and noticed, listened to some meditations, gave myself space. I wrote small amounts, I took time for myself, I was compassionate and kind, I listened to my needs, I let go of my fixed idea of how things should be and let the day flow. I didn’t have to complete the whole retreat offering, I could release into the moment and let it be as it was.
Next time, I may retreat from the noise of the world, reduce the sensory activity in order to feel calmer and clearer, (which is exactly what is needed for those of us who experience sensory overload.) I need to be in quiet, peaceful places so that I can rest, recover and think clearly and calmly.
However, I don’t always need a whole day for that, as I can find these moments of retreat throughout my day. I can get up early before the sun, pause with a cup of tea, sit in meditation and breathe slowly and deeply. I can gradually awaken to the day, choose a slow steady start and take time to get ready before taking a walk to watch the sun rise.
I am lucky enough to be somewhere where I get to see the changing colour of the sky as the blue emerges from the dark of the night and the sun highlights the clouds. I can watch the little black fish and see the silver bellies of the grey ones swimming in the clear blue. I can experience the quietness of the morning before the world wakes up and listen to the gentle lap of the waves as I feel the sun bringing its warmth.
All I need are moments, to notice the quiet spaces that are already there, to be aware of the peacefulness as I pause, to breathe deeply and rest into the stillness of the day.
What about you, what would your retreat look like, and feel like? How would you spend your time? Would you like a week, a day or a moment?
Moments of retreat allow you pause, breathe and find a little space in your day and these can be just as powerful as taking more time. Building them into your day, making time for retreat moments, can change how you think, feel and act.
If you start with the moments, you will always have space, you can build those mini retreats into a full day and then choose to expand the time if you wish. Can you give yourself permission to pause, rest and be open to the space and wonder of the moment and allow yourself to retreat?
May you find the time and space that you need and always know the peacefulness that you hold inside. May you find moments of tranquility and calm and give yourself permission to retreat and be kind to yourself.
Holding the space for others to retreat is so helpful but it does change the dynamic of the context for the one holding, I’m glad you got a day for yourself too. It may not have been the day you expected but it sounds like it was the day you needed and that it enabled you to do some deep reflection. Your photos are stunning, well done for taking courage to enter the sea.
Beautiful Anne. Sensory overload is only too real. Islands provide such peace, calm and serenity. Also I have found, it is important to find green space that allows us to do the same. Thank you for sharing xx