otherwordly joys.
notes app musings in the liminal space between retreats.
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Mostly lifted from post-Omega musing on my Notes app.
Part of going on retreat is considering whether you’re mentally prepared to go on retreat - though in reality, I’ve never been pushed to the point that I have to consider whether I can sit with myself in silence for eight days. That doesn’t feel hard. I’ve never felt that I can’t face myself in whatever the silence has to tell and I feel grateful for this. That’s actually pretty fucking strong!
Even so, I have a question about whether I should be better preparing myself to go into silence. I’m going to be crashing into retreat once more. And this year my mental health has felt particularly slippery.
On the other hand, I just came back from Omega, a trip I was supported in many ways to take. The weekend retreat that led me there was led by my favs, it was centered on joy and, for me, its effect was subtle but effective. Which wasn’t apparent to me in the moments of retreating. Sidebar: Omega is what I imagine summer camp would have been like if my African parents had ever let me do such a thing growing up.
For context: As you can imagine, on a silent retreat, the ten thousand joys and sorrows come up. The teachings are powerful and you hear a lot of sniffles and blowing of the nose in the room. The Omega retreat wasn’t silent but there was plenty of crying and it can be difficult to be in a room of people who seem to be releasing something while you sit appreciative and grateful but also wondering ‘Well! Where is my big moment of release?’
I’m finding that my release is coming after. I am home, and like a sponge, am being wrung out in the most satisfying way.
In the reflection of the weekend, I see the joy of:
the generosity that got me to omega
spending the weekend with one of my best friends
the train ride up the Hudson
Jen’s lunchbox full of snacks
the Lyft ride
seeing Noah at check-in
my favorite teachers
talking retreat judginess
morning coffee with lakshmi
contemplating how i am Nature
KAYAKING
ram dass library
ice cream (x2)
fox (x2)
conga line
soul train
contemplating hitch-hiking
the four golden oldies i shared seats and talked politics with (one of them thinks Gretchen Whitmer should run for President and the other thought a woman would never get elected. one said “no more old white men!” and the other thought that was age-ist. i helped them identify the tap-en-zee bridge and they talked about how cuomo named the bridge after his dad. they all hope Biden gets to name something although none of them think he should run again)
krispy kreme (x2)
That’s 19 joys (and counting)!
Some of these were loud but most of them were whispers. I noticed that I was having a giggly time talking retreat judginess with my friends but breakfast with Lakshmi, one of the members of the Omega seasonal staff, was more of a quiet acknowledgment of “I like this”.
During the retreat one of our teachers, Dawn, prompted us to go outside and notice what nature we are drawn to. And, to notice the moment of noticing. Can you identify what gives rise to the moment of noticing? The external observation of the joy of noticing? And even noticing the dissipation of the initial moment of joy?
I noticed this sparse flower bush on a curve on a path. It jutted out. I can’t say that I know why that composition struck me visually but I could identify it struck a chord internally and I stayed with it for the duration of the practice. All of this felt quiet. I was not weeping over a bush.
All to say that maybe I wasn’t crying but there was an undercurrent of something else being wired. A poetic something-or-other was registering and I was aware enough to identify it even if I couldn’t put it in words or if I didn’t know that this is what was happening in the moment of happening. My joy was operating in the background and I am reminded that releasing doesn’t have to look like Nicole Kidman leaving divorce court. Or crying.
Surely, I can enter into silence knowing that those joy stores are there. May it be.
Does this track?
xo Jessica
Ps. - As I mentioned the retreat was led by some of my favs. ❤️ Not that any of these teachers need my plug but - in case you’re not already plugged into these shiny humans, here are their links:
Dawn Mauricio
Sebene Selassie
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