Retreats are an interesting journey for me. While I love the idea of traveling with a purpose and meeting new people and having adventures I would not normally have on my own, there is also layered anxiety because I do not know the personalities of the other guests beforehand. Will we get along? Will we align in our feelings?
Sometimes I hope that I might meet and recognize my people. My tribe. A shared frequency. A shared table. A sense of belonging I didn't have growing up and rarely felt through most of my adult life.
Last night, I actually shared this with the group. Yet, before I could even share, interruptions kept preventing me from feeling a full and safe release. Still, emotion arose as I expressed how nice it was to sit at a table with others when I've been dining alone for nearly 20 years.
I have eaten in restaurants alone, gone to movies alone, traveled alone, danced at parties alone, gone to concerts alone, and celebrated holidays alone. My life simply shaped itself in this way. Because if I waited for someone to join me on my adventures, I felt I would have been waiting a long time. So, once I found the courage to do life on my own terms, it became easier to move about the world this way. Also, as a HSP (Highly Sensitive Person), my empathy overload needs to be reeled in so I can decompress. So, being around people for any consistent amount of time in a closed retreat-type space, even if I have alone time in my room, still can unsettle me.
In the context of this experience, it is lovely when I can share a meal with others, and a part of me exhales.
Leading up to this point though, had its own journey.
This morning initiated something inside me. A familiar dynamic I have known throughout my life. Strong women, still forming their sense of self, bumping up against my clarity. Or, as a strong woman, bumping up against another strong leader with a differing perspective. I felt the shift in the tone. A subtle coolness. A quick projection. It echoed moments from my childhood, moments from family, moments where I learned to stay quiet so others would feel comfortable.
Except I am a different version of me now. I speak up, I stay clear about myself, and I pause.
After a session, I went to my room to clear projections from my field. When I finished, I heard a very clear message:
Go to lunch.
Lunch started at one, and by the time I walked in it was one-thirty. Right before I left my room, a text message came in asking if I was coming to lunch. My absence was felt, and that alone showed me my presence has a place here.
When I arrived, there was one open seat in the center of the table. For the first time on this retreat, I felt peaceful being the last person to sit. The last to eat. I heard again to stay inward and focus on my food. No need to join the conversation. No need to fill space. My body wanted stillness. Everyone eventually left the table for the afternoon break, and I sat quietly in my own energy. The kitchen staff moved around me with warmth and the chef was nearby. It felt grounding.
And the irony is beautiful.
The night before I expressed how meaningful it felt to share a meal with people.
Today, I experienced the other side of that truth.
Sometimes belonging looks like sitting with others.
Sometimes belonging is sitting with yourself.
I was alone because my energy needed space.
I was alone because I was meeting a deeper layer of myself.
This retreat is giving me something beyond technique, craft, or structure.
It is showing me where I am now in my own evolution.
It is showing me how differently I hold myself.
It is showing me how firmly my voice lives inside me, without force and without fear.
I thought I came here to meet my tribe.
And instead, I am meeting more of myself. Yet, in some ways, I am meeting my tribe, because they are mirrors, teaching me how to love myself more.
A newer, clearer, and more grounded version.
A version that honors timing, trusts my body, and listens to my intuition even when the energy is louder than I can usually handle.
Belonging arrives when we feel at home within ourselves.
I came to expand and to meet my tribe. I've expanded, met sisters and a brother, and discovered my strength once again. My tribe is me. And I exist in a world where I can visit tribes and continue to meet more of myself. That is the beauty of life.
Written with love,
Lisa Eve
