Process Spirituality was the last workshop I attended during the Birth, Breath, and Death retreat. The title, Process Spirituality, didn’t reveal what to expect, but I heard others recommending Kalyan Volpe, the facilitator. It ended up the central experience for me on this retreat that my daughter-in-law, Michelle, had encouraged me to go to.
Before we got into the various activities Kalyan had planned, he led a short, guided meditation. Maybe you can try it now:
Imagine you are walking barefoot on a beach of soft, warm white sand. The ocean on your left goes out to the horizon. It is a beautiful shade of blue green and the waves break gently on the shore. You are alone, the sky a brilliant blue, the sun warm and welcoming overhead. Looking down, you see the most beautiful seashell you’ve ever noticed and pick it up. It opens in your hands. You place the question you carry inside, then throw it far out over the ocean. You watch it sink slowly out of sight.
I’m hoping you’ll stop reading and do the exercise I just described before I tell you what happened for me…
What Happened for Me
I knew I was carrying great grief and fear for Michelle because of her cancer. But it felt visceral when I thought of my son and grandchildren. How were they to cope with her loss? How was I? Selfishly, I’d secretly assumed she’d be the one, with her nursing background, taking care of me when it came my turn to die.
So far, everything leading to this retreat had turned a spotlight on my avoidance of looking at what the issue really was. Not my grief for Michelle or Chris, but my own fear.
Now it was time to put my “question” inside the seashell. I still had not named what it was I was afraid of. Instead, I pictured a tight, black, lump, representing what I could not name, into the shell.
Learning From Moving Center
Then the workshop got started with everyone choosing colored pens or pencils and blank sheets of paper. We were instructed to draw a self-portrait that represented how we saw ourselves. We only had five minutes to do this. Then we turned to someone nearby and took turns sharing. Next, we drew a picture (above) of ourselves as a three-year old might see us. Interestingly, my self-portrait (to right) was a much more child-like composition than the three-year old version. In this one, my heart has a red center. But at the last minute, I’d grabbed a black pencil and shaded all around it.
Woops! Out of time—we’ll have to get to the exciting conclusion next week.
See you then.
Thank you so much for this ❤️.
I tried the exercise and was amazed; after I threw the shell with my question in it, and it submerged peacefully and I waited, looking out toward the horizon, suddenly an as-if SeaGod rose up powerfully, actually causing my solar plexus to experience a whoosh of energy upwards. I did receive a response; strong and vibrant.
Roberta, for some reason your self-portrait did not come through (just a square with a question mark). I don’t know if it’s my computer or the program you use.
Thank you for your engaging sharing of your life experiences.
Wow, thank Barbara! I’m glad you did the exercise, and hope others will, too. I’m surprised you got such a quick response, others may need to let their question sink out of sight for awhile. As for the self-portrait, I’ll have to wait until we get to Asheville to look at that. I know others did see it, so it could be a Mac / PC thing? I’m wondering if others also had trouble seeing it. Hope they let me know.
I did finally see it. For some reason, had to go to another page to view it. Enjoyed them; and very interesting that you added that shadow around your heart. Insightful, leading to more of an accepting look, it seems.