As the autumn retreat came to a close on Sunday, I was touched beyond words with the beauty of each and every participant.
Something about The Work allows a quick dive to a very intimate connection when people gather to do it together.
You get to hear the concern, objection, suffering–even if only on one or two key topics–that people have been carrying like a burden without knowing how to set it down.
These are the thoughts we think we’re supposed to keep to ourselves. The mean, ugly, disturbing thoughts.
Thoughts like: my husband irritates me, I won’t have enough money in 18 months, my in-laws wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, my managers gossiped about me, I’m not adequate to be a mother, my son is too anxious.
Every time someone spoke their story into the room, I heard a voice that said “this is me.”
It’s difficult for me to come up with a stressful thought to share with you, and question right in front of you like I always do, when I’m so full of gratitude, and energy, and…gratitude.
And gratitude.
This kind of sharing with self-inquiry flowing through everyone cuts to a deep intimacy. And quick.
I kept thinking “these people are so brave, so fascinating, so supportive, so sincere”.
(I get to do this again December 5-8 in Oregon with Tom Compton. A few spaces available, so call Breitenbush 503-854-2230 and join us for cozy winter retreat to question wintry thinking. I like thinking of it as solstice “enlightenment” prep).
But. Now that I think about it. There was a moment during the retreat. As in, right in the middle of a live circle sharing time.
Uh oh.
LOUD NOISE coming from the distance, from humans playing loud music, talking and partying, laughing and squealing.
Wait…what?! Is that what I think it is? Really? I peek out the window.
The neighboring Amish-style lodge also overlooking an expansive Poconos forest was previously empty. Now, at least 8 people stand or sit on the wide outdoor deck off over yonder. Brown beer bottles on the banister. Sliding doors open wide, music speakers set up outside, blasting music. A hand waving a cigarette.
Here comes the “no” from within me.
Someone in our circle is sharing. I concentrate on her words, her face.
I want to wipe the noise away so I can keep hearing what she’s saying.
But a voice inside of my own head is saying “the minute we break, I walk over there myself, or call the phone number that’s been listed for any trouble or issue”.
I also then feel something curious and rather wonderful, because we’re all here together at retreat perhaps and The Work is singing in everyone’s ears….
….which is the feeling of relaxed gentleness even thoughan apparent interruption has occurred.
This is bad.
Is it true?
I see the eyes and faces of everyone in the group–no one appears the least bit concerned. The person speaking is openly speaking, not mentioning the noise.
Sun streams through the windows.
We come to a natural break moments later, and I call the number immediately for “trouble”, a man answers, and he says he’ll take care of it immediately–kindness. Moments later after that, the noise stops.
I wonder how the message was delivered so quickly, and feel appreciation at how quickly the “problem” was handled.
I feel appreciation for how The Work is not about being passive, or saying it isn’t true there’s noise.
There was sound.
But no anger or fear or war. A message. Time to meet the happening arising in the moment called humanity-having-fun-in-their-own-particular-way.
I did find out later, a few people in our lodge heard the other group in the other lodge during the previous night, and they had a hard time sleeping.
So another thought rose up: nothing should disturb these sweet people at this retreat, who I am responsible for. I should have been able to prevent that from happening.
I love that the four questions are here steady and waiting, ready to meet any new thought.
It never means I don’t take action. Action comes faster without any stress about it.
“As we do The Work, not only do we remain alert to our stressful thoughts–the ones that cause all the anger, sadness, and frustration in the world–but we question them, and through that questioning the thoughts lose their power over us.” ~ Byron Katie
Much love,Grace