Back in
1990, after nearly a decade working in New York City, I spent several rich months
at Pendle Hill, the Quaker Study Center outside Philadelphia. Ever since then, at pivotal moments, I have
tended to grab retreat time (be it a few days or longer) or even to find work
at retreat or conference centers, so that I can just be in that kind of
contemplative environment. I think I
mentioned in a previous blog that I’ve begun to understand that there is a
reason for this – in fact I am gravitating to the kind of situation that works
best for my creative needs as a writer, mystic, musician and artist.
This
morning I was thinking about the very term, “retreat.” Obviously it has a
military connotation: the definitions I saw online speak of armies retreating
after defeat in battle, and withdrawal in the face of superior power or
criticism. Even in the more general
sense, the word seems to have a potentially negative meaning. There can be, it seems to me, the implication
that there is a “norm” – “the real world” – and that someone going on retreat
may be weak or unsuccessful in the “battle of life.” I know I have always felt a
bit of shame around my need for a lot of quiet time, and it is magnified in the
sense that my whole life since 1990 could be seen as a retreat from the corporate,
conventional paradigm.
The joy of
having been so unconventional, though, is that one can turn things on their
head rather easily, and so this morning, I was playing with this idea. What if our visible 21st
century world -- of business, profit and
loss, political extremes, big cities, big egos, military, legal and personal
confrontations, consumerism, fast food chains, traffic jams, high stress expectations, environmental
degradation, 24-hour-a-day media and social media – what if this is a retreat? What if this is a distraction? Can a case be made that the real “business” of living as a
human being on this planet is done when one is alone in front of “that of God
within,” when one is alone with that power that many religions decline to even
name? For some people, the profound silence is their workplace. It's not an easy one. It can be terrifying to listen for divine
guidance, and possibly receive a call you’d rather not get. Facing “the Void” with an empty writing pad
in front of you, or an empty canvas, or the beginnings of a musical theme in
your head, may be just as courageous as running a corporation or going into battle. Climbing a mountain alone or sailing solo
around the world or running a marathon, not to win, but to understand yourself,
your inner power, and your connection to the Universe, may be equally
courageous.
In the end,
we’re all functioning where we function best. I'm not fond of the military terminology,
but we are all “fighting” different battles, and need different forms of
balance to rejuvenate. Heck, introspective people periodically
“retreat” into the world for a jolt
of energy. My perfect percentage would be about 60% contemplative/writing/art work and 40% work/choral singing/engagement with other people in the world. Everyone has their own percentage. Not one of the 7 billion people alive on the planet has
“retreated.” We are all just working in
different places. So there must be a better word for this weekend’s process. Until I find it, perhaps I’ll just skew things
enough to say that I am retreating “to” my inspiring connection with Source,
not, I hope, “from” anything. 