Retreat

[vaneramos]

It would be difficult to describe my weekend at Easton Mountain and do it justice, but I must say something. The best part, of course, was the people I met. Most memorable was spending all of Saturday afternoon on a balcony overlooking the lake, knitting, and talking with Michael (author of Knitting With Balls), the other Van, and others who happened along.

One event I must record in detail, not because it was the only one that moved me profoundly, but because it was deeply personal, separate from the collective experience. Saturday morning I went for a professional massage. While the masseur was working on the side of my neck, thoughts about Mom came to me. Receiving an image of a black dove flying away, I started to sob. These were my first tears since Mom died on February 20. Thinking he was hurting me, the masseur stopped, but when I explained what was happening, he continued. The feelings subsided, but returned a few minutes later while he was working on my left forearm. Some smarmy song about love came on the CD player, and I seemed to recall a memory from early childhood of walking and holding Mom's hand. Then I got a lot of tears out.

There were birds everywhere, and they sang all day long. One highlight was a blue-winged warbler, singing bee-bzz, who dropped down in a tree close enough for Danny and me to see without binoculars handy.

It was refreshing to hang out for three days with a group of gay men who were intent mostly on knitting. Good food and the hospitable background vibe of the retreat centre contributed to an incredibly relaxing atmosphere. I started two new knitting projects.

Something has come up repeatedly in my Creating a Life Worth Living sessions with Sarah D.—that I might enjoy working at some kind of a retreat centre as a naturalist/teacher/facilitator/guide. But I had never seen anything like what I imagined, until this weekend. Easton Mountain was it. I must return soon.

Comments

[leafshimmer.livejournal.com]

I am so happy for you. what you recount is a stunning testiment to the teaching I have received that we literally carry buried memories within our physical bodies. I don't know nor do I particularly care about the biochemical explanation for why this is so, but I have heard a number of stories similar to yours.

I haven't had a massage in an age and this makes me think that I NEED to get one!

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I have it in mind that you have written something about Easton Mountain. Have you visited?

[leafshimmer.livejournal.com]

I may have written about Easton somewhere on LJ, but I have never been there. Their events are cost-prohibitive for me, but in recent years they have hosted a couple of Radical Faerie meetings that were very low priced (and sliding scale at that). There is also the issue of carpooling to get up there. I don't really know anyone who is a part of that community, although I have attended a couple of things that were hosted by men who were trying to get going a "Easton vet in Boston" kind of thing. The vibe just didn't gel for me.

Beautiful Men

[(Anonymous)]

It was great to get to meet both you and Danny. I was so glad there were so many gentle men at the retreat who were so interesting and varied. One of the most human experiences of my life in a long time.

You conveyed well the sense of the retreat...you were also a large part of helping to create it. Thanks.

Oh yeah...loved your pictures on Flickr...bagel deity indeed.

Re: Beautiful Men

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Joe? "One of the most human experiences..."

For me, too. Many thanks.

[twillhead.livejournal.com]

That is so interesting that the physical massage acted as a catalyst for unblocking some of the unresolved feelings you have experienced regarding the death of your Mom. It somehow falls in line with kundalini and chakras and nadis, but I don't have the capacity to articulate how it all relates. I am so glad that you did not attempt to suppress these emotions, but just went with the flow as the massage continued. Now that the pipeline has been cleared, you may find yourself overwhelmed with similar feelings at the most bizarre -- and often inappropriate, or at least inconvenient -- moments over the next few weeks. Big {{{Hugs}}} to you!

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I've brushed with those feelings a few times over the past few weeks, and did not try to suppress them. In fact I tried to engage them, but it was like trying to dive to the bottom of a lake, and finding myself lifted by buoyancy beyond my control.

In 1995, when I was struggling through the worst depression of my life, I benefited from massage. In fact I believe it even helped me come to terms with my sexual orientation, and engage my sensual side without shame.

For the past 13 years I haven't been able to afford another session. When I booked the one on Saturday, I did it to treat myself, but also with awareness of its power of mental therapy. I didn't expect the vision or emotional release, but certainly welcomed them.

The catharsis was so gentle, I doubt that it will reappear randomly. But now that I know what I know, perhaps I can try to access those feelings again. Setting aside the funds for future massage sessions should probably be a priority. On the other hand, my whole experience of Mom's death has been so gentle that I don't feel any sense of urgency. After a lifetime of inner conflict, this kindness seems like a gift from my own psyche, and from Mom.

[east-side-patch.livejournal.com]

Interesting content on you blog and very elequent and personal writing.
regards,
ESP.

Retreat

[(Anonymous)]

Sounds like a wonderful weekend, how I would like to have been there.

Kerry