“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.”
~ Michel de Montaigne
Whenever we are on Retreat the weather always seems to mirror and support our journey. For the past two days, as we have laboured under the Usurper’s Moon, dealing with all of our shame and self-betrayal – the artificial self that we have become by handing our authority to others, or by overriding our personal preferences and instincts in order to please others or gain their approval – the weather has been closed in. It has been cool, cloud-filled, and rainy.
Yesterday we moved into silence. Each of us become our own island, alone with our thoughts and our selves. We’re well cradled by nature here. The trees and flowers, the birds, the distant crash of waves, the eight of endless breaching and salt water plumes as the whales make their way down the coastline.
As I walked the grounds, weaving my way between Hall and room I saw people quietly sitting, cradling tea and looking out over the bay, people curled on their beds with their oracle cards and journal, people gazing into the gardens, gazing into themselves.
Dinner was such a quiet affair. The only sound the chinking of cutlery against china. The soft thud of a mug or a cup against the wooden tables. The shuffle of chairs.
But even in that silence, there was love and support. My heart swelled at the beauty of it all.
There were tears. There were smiles. And slowly, there was peace. Scattered became focused. Confusion became steadiness.
It rained on and off until dawn, and then the skies began to clear. Now the sun is up, the birds are singing and the shift of energies is tangible.
Today we step into the energy of the Monk’s Moon – a journey towards self – a time of deep intuition, happiness and unfolding understanding. There’s work to be done, and we’re ready to do it. Eager to do it.
Meanwhile the orchids bloom, the whales, frolic, and the dawn’s golden clouds float blessings over us all.
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.”
~ Virginia Woolf,