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| Sun setting at Ghost Lake - January 2015 |
The word “retreat” has a few different meanings.
- to treat again,
- to withdraw,
- and, a place of refuge, seclusion or privacy.
I am in the midst of all three.
Each year I take a FULL+ week away from family to re-charge my batteries—usually with solar power. This is my fifth year in a row. I feel quite proud of that, because the years prior, I just suffered in silence…out loud. I didn’t tell anyone I was suffering, but everyone knew it anyway. January, the month of my birth, is my least favourite time of the year. The marriage between darkness and cold drags me down. In past years I went to Southern California, where I could walk on the beach, listen to the surf, shop at the outdoor market, read for lengthy hours with my feet in the sand, and write whenever I wanted to.
This year, I started my time away at a Yoga Retreat…my first one. I learned that Yoga and Retreat should not be used in a sentence together. Yoga is physically demanding. The first day, I had to take a nap. By the second day, I had run out of food, and YES, I did take a whole cooler full! Yoga can be uncomfortable. Our fitness coach encouraged us to lean in to the discomfort, but NOT toward pain. I’m wired to avoid discomfort. Some people aren’t—like Iron Men and Women…and apparently Yogis. I did lean in, to the point of almost falling over.
The weekend —as a whole—felt great. I had the pleasure of being around women all weekend, and kicking off a habit for 2015.
Namaste.
***
After the yoga, I returned home for a day; the school scheduled a PD day right in the middle of my time away. How inconsiderate! Truthfully, I didn’t need to go home, but the mother in me just couldn’t drive by. Moreover, I had to stop and change bags, and pick up my retreat companions: the dog, the cat, and my computer. We arrived at the cottage, at Ghost Lake—not the California coast line—but it was 12 degrees and no snow in sight!
As you know, my main job is as mother. Oddly, I do not know any other mom who takes scheduled breaks from their family. Not one. Why is that? Has everyone else got the balancing thing, the stress management thing, the battery re-charging thing figured out? If so, then please tell me. Truth is, I didn’t always need to take time away. Time away used to be with Ward, while my mom stepped in. I started solitary confinement five years ago, but I have parented for over seventeen. Right now, it is an essential piece of my stay healthy, happy, and out-of-jail plan.
For the first few days I am away, an internal wrestling match goes on. Standing on one side of the ring is the Critical Judge, who says, “You are such a shitty mother for leaving your kids, and OH, your poor husband”, and on the other side is the Yogi, standing confidently in Warrior II, she says, “Breathe…in through your nose...out through your nose”. Of course, the Yogi triumphs over the Judge…only because the Yogi won’t engage, and the Judge eventually gives up.
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| Yoga on the beach in 2009. |
***
The weather has been amazing this week. Sunshine every day. On Monday I hiked, Tuesday I rollerbladed, I walked every day, and on Saturday I went cross-country skiing. Yup…only in this part of the world can we have all seasons in one week. I feel blessed.
Just before leaving home, a friend stopped by with a “retreat” basket for me. As many of you know, I am doing a challenge this year, called “One Looney Idea”, whereby I will spend an average of a loonie a day for 365 days straight. Yup, crazy, I know. So, she stopped by with a basket of re-gifted items for my retreat: candles, tea, body butter, hummus, crackers, Brie, a bottle of wine, and eye make-up remover, to name a few. I love the fact that everything was re-gifted, it goes along with my idea that we can all live with less. Her less, is my more! Thank you CT.
When I am in California on retreat, there is so much more “white space’” in my schedule and the days feel longer. I can’t figure out what is different here. I thought I would be amazed by my daily accomplishments. Instead, I realize that time is precious wherever you are. Once you use it up, it’s gone, whether you used it for good or not. I have been writing a lot this week. Writing is not like housecleaning or cooking; at the end of a great session, you can’t look around and see how tidy and finished everything is. Words simply beget more words, and more coffee.
***
Every retreat has some component of growth to it. And this one has been no different.
On my birthday this year I got my nose pierced. George—the body piercing artist—told me to soak my nose in saline every day. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that since my nose is attached to the middle of my face, so I stared at her, the same way my dog stares at me when she doesn't comprehend. George told me that some people use a Neti-Pot. I had heard of a Neti-Pot, being a long time nasal sufferer, but the thought of sticking something up my nose did not appeal to me. Instead, I tried a nasal “shower”: spraying my nostril aggressively with a saline mist. Despite my exemplary efforts, my nostril has been swollen and irritated since it was lanced, two weeks ago. Some mornings I wake up and the piercing is embedded into the tissue of my nose. You can’t even see the bedazzled jewel (talk about leaning in to discomfort). I decided to try the Neti-Pot.
If you are considering trying this natural remedy that allows liquid to flow through your nasal cavity, like magic—into one nostril and out the other—please read this first. It is not magic, even though the little pot looks like a genie’s lamp.
I’m going to do a visualization with you. Close your eyes. Think back to a time when you were 11 or 12 years old. You are at a picnic with your favourite cousins. It is so much fun when you get together, they always make you laugh. It is hot. Help yourself to an ice cold pop from the cooler. Now, just as you tip the bottle back (they didn’t have cans when you were a kid), think of your cousin saying the funniest thing he has ever said. Yeah. As you catapult right into raucous laughter, the pop shoots straight out your nose. Remember that painful, fizzy feeling.
That is what the Neti-pot is like.
It’s like snorting salt water…from a pool…through a straw…while hanging upside-down.
I'm not making this up.
The thing is, I don’t even know how the water goes in one nostril and out the other, but I can tell you that there is a time delay, and I think it’s because the fluid is routing through your brain!
You have a choice here…not like the time when your cousin made you shoot pop out your nose.
Even though it has been around for centuries, and even though it originated with the Ayurvedic Yogis—which is not surprising given their ability to lean in to discomfort—I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone who doesn’t like discomfort, or mild pain, or feeling like your drowning at your own kitchen sink.
I did a lot of reading on-line, and nowhere did I see Neti-pots as a treatment for embedded nasal piercings. I did learn on wikipedia however that “the practice is generally well-tolerated and reported to be beneficial with only minor side effects”. Generally well-tolerated? I suppose the same could be said of nasal piercings.
