Retreat.

For those unfamiliar with the schedule of the Tucson YAV, here’s a little run-down on what is to be expected during the time leading up to Easter.

February: 6-10th 
“Lenten Spiritually Retreat”

Retreat has a common definition in the PCUSA world, at least in my PCUSA world. It means spending some time in a place removed from society, technology, usually surrounded by nature:

Passing time with youth group friends, church family, and pastor, reading the Bible, talking about God, Jesus, the Spirit. Singing, having campfires, roasting s’mores, and in my experience playing a rocking softball game that we rock-hopped to along a creek. 

 

Worship services start and end each day, keynote mornings and homily evenings.

On paper, our Lenten Spirituality Retreat is not too far off this limiting definition:

Removed from society: check.

Surrounded by nature: check.

With friends, church family, pastor: check.

Talking about God, Jesus, Spirit: check.

Campfires: check.

Roasted marshmallows: check.

Rock-hopping: check.

Worship to start and end the days: check.

And yet, this experience was so much more then I had anticipated.

We gathered together, in our base camp, Wednesday morning through Friday morning, spending time in nature, singing, laughing, playing games. We rose with the sun and slept with the stars. Greeting the morning and the night with short meditations and prayers.

 Then, Friday morning after eating breakfast, we packed and walked out into the desert.

Along the path we dropped our packs, one by one, spreading ourselves half a mile from each other. The last placement was about four miles from base camp. The terrain shifted and changed dramatically. Canyon walls rose and closed in closer, rusty red, dotted with cacti and agave. The floor flowed with crystal clear water. Cotton wood trees, Arizona walnut trees, and sycamores reigned, surrounded by desert grains and grasses. It felt like a wonderland. And I was lost.

Climbing up a steep, crumbly slope to eat lunch we saw the mountains spreading all around and the canyon widening beneath us. After our meal, we slowly descended back into the waiting ravine.  We walked back together, our numbers dwindling as each member stopped at their appointed site and began to make camp.

I waited with the last three, being the second to last to set up, the second closest to our base. As my supervisor walked with me through the bosque, I started breathing deeply, trying to prevent the tears from starting to form in my eyes. He bounded between trees looking for the best placement of my tarp and ground cloth, I tried to keep up as my feet dragged with the weight of this decision.

As he left me, sitting under my tarp, waiting for the night, he said, “We’ll see you when we see you. Remember, this is ‘choose your own adventure.’ And know, that you are loved.”

I stayed one night in the desert. I chose that adventure and that path. I did not stay for both nights, and I am not weighted by that decision. Mentally, I was not ready to face myself in that space. I returned to camp on Saturday afternoon and spent the day in silent company with the community there.

On Sunday we were asked to reflect on our time spent on the sojourn. I had not reflected much on my decision and my time in the desert. I felt removed from my memory, removed from my mind. When I faced it, this is what I saw.

Fear flushing cheeks in red,

Heart beats anxiously searching

 for a home.

Hallowed trees to hold a sleeping body.

Praying towards the sinking sun

-weeping.

Mothers and fathers

sons and daughters.

Lost in body

lost in mind

lost passion

for life.

Lying, stillness

beating, beating, beating, racing heart

smothering calm surrounds

-unease.

Waking, sleeping, dreaming

dancing consciousness within.

Gratitude in sunlight

blanketed, dulled by clouds.

Droplets fall lightly all around

rain frozen in time

delicately descending

-snow.

Captured, motionless

wrapped in self

cocoon of terrifying safety

tidal thoughts, in, out.

Daylights’ unfulfilled promise

of security

that ease of sight,

bright shining comforts, nowhere

Still body infecting,

bringing stillness of mind

blocked, numb

-fear.

Creeping anxiety flares

hot, fast, deep

shaking nervousness, knots slip in trembling fingers

the beast descends.

Cold, relieving breath in a snow covered mountain

walking, stumbling,

ever seeking salvation

in a windmill.