Have you ever tried going on a retreat?

How did you find it? I wonder what sort of response you experienced when you told your friends where you had been. “Oh how lovely, you must feel so wonderfully rested” is the one I often get, and I find myself going “hmmmmm” and quietly closing the conversation. Their remarks reflect the dictionary definition of retreat: “an escape that aims to reduce stress and rejuvenate body, mind and spirit.” But those of you who have been on a retreat will probably know this is a bit simplistic.

Diamond Approach Retreats

I have recently returned from a Diamond Approach retreat in a beautiful part of North Yorkshire with the same group of around one hundred people I have been meeting with twice a year for the last fifteen years.

During the week we meditate, listen to the teachings of A.H. Almaas delivered by experienced teachers, and inquire with peers in groups of two or three. Inquiries take the form of fifteen-minute monologues or repeating questions on subjects related to the teaching. We also work one-to-one with teachers and in larger groups. Mornings are silent, but at lunch and supper we socialise.

Finding Ego Defences

Over the years we have addressed our inner critics and other ego defences, tracing them back to childhood experiences that were overwhelming and unsupported by attuned, insightful parents. Gradually these defences begin to soften in the face of non-judgemental holding by teachers and peers.

The Dissociation Defence

Recently I have been working with a well-honed defence of my own: dissociation when young, unintegrated parts of myself are challenged.

It is a brilliant defence because it takes me out of my body to a “place” where I cannot feel physical or emotional distress. That place can be my cognitive mind, or a sleepy, restful, non-doing state where I know where I am and what is happening, but remain separate and safe.

During this last retreat I explored what seems to trigger this response, why it is so addictive, why I feel I have no control over it, why I do not want to give it up, and finally the effect it has on others when I absent myself in this way.

All of this can be exhausting and painful because it brings me into contact with the fact that I am causing distress to others, and with the reasons I developed this defence in the first place. Intellectually I had long understood that it was a way of coping with my mother’s habit of dissociating — an experience of psychic abandonment that can feel terrifying to an infant. But on this retreat I experienced more directly what that felt like.

I also discovered that I do not really want to let this defence go because it protects me so effectively from experiences I would rather avoid.

Learning to Live Without Ego Defences

As I work with these insights in an open-hearted and accepting environment, the defences gradually begin to soften. I become more able to stay present in my body when meeting emotional or physical challenges.

It turns out that ego defences — dissociation being only one example — also separate us from many of the experiences for which embodiment is necessary: joy, love, connection, attunement, gratitude, meaning, alignment with purpose and awe, to name just a few.

Nowadays these states are more accessible to me. I appreciate and admire trees in a new way. I experience a sense of exchange when I breathe in their oxygen and they take my carbon dioxide. I notice other people more fully and pick up on emotional states that are often masked or subtle, and I usually feel compassion rather than irritation. I feel gratitude for the beauty of a May morning, rather than simply thinking about it intellectually.

I can now more often stay with vulnerability and inadequacy without needing to react or defend myself.

Dissociation cuts me off from the intelligence my body has to offer — about myself, about others and about the wider world — as well as from insight, connection and creativity. And that is quite a loss.

So while retreat weeks are not always restful or delightful, they can be profoundly life-enhancing in ways that are difficult to describe in casual conversation.

Retreating

I have often wondered whether I can recreate some of this experience on my own between retreats. This pondering has led me to the other meaning of retreat: to withdraw, disengage, perhaps feeling defeated or exhausted — or simply to step back and rest “on the back foot” for a while.

There are many expressions in the English language about “backs”, and most of them describe states considered undesirable: being “caught on the back foot,” “having no backbone,” “having your back to the wall,” or being “a bit backward.” Retreating therefore tends to carry negative connotations.

The only positive expression I can think of is the feeling that “someone’s got my back.”

Resting on the Back Foot

For those who are embodied, these sayings are more than expressions; they arise from bodily experiences that many of us have lost contact with in our constant “onwards and upwards” rush.

They are examples of the body’s intelligence telling us that now may not be the time to move forward or take on challenges. Perhaps we do not currently have the resources and need time for rest and recovery. Perhaps we need support from someone who “has our back,” helping us rediscover “the wind in our sails” before moving forward again.

Or perhaps the direction we were moving in was not right for us at that moment. Perhaps the timing was wrong.

Rivers find ways around insurmountable obstacles. They do not waste energy trying to move the immovable, yet over centuries they profoundly reshape the landscape.

A Skill for Life

How much easier my life as a public health professional would have been if I had understood earlier that some issues simply are not ready to change at a particular moment.

I would have wasted far less time and energy — both my own and other people’s. And in public health work there are always many other issues that could usefully be addressed.

So, for me, both retreats and retreating have value.

Retreats are usually held by people who take responsibility for creating a safe and supportive environment in which participants can explore their inner worlds.

Retreating, on the other hand, is something I have had to learn for myself. It has taken me rather a long time to appreciate both the skill and its value.

I can wholeheartedly recommend both.

Experience More of the Diamond Approach

If you would like to find out more about the Diamond Approach UK, I can offer you a free place at a one-day workshop in London EC1Y 2AN on Saturday 9th May, from 10am–4.30pm.

Please email me at sarah@wellbeing-ventures.co.uk if you are interested and would like to know more.

Or, if you would like to discover more about my embodiment workshops, take a look here:

Wellbeing Ventures – Upcoming Courses