I Went to the Woods

The cabin where I stayed.

by myself.

For three days. 

Yes, that’s right. 

My in-laws came to visit us from Massachusetts and I used the presence of that extra childcare as an opportunity to get away to a cabin in the woods for a spiritual retreat, something I’ve not done in 11 years. Of course, I’ve gone to many group retreats and conferences within the last 11 years but this was the first one where I was by myself. 

I love solo retreats and before I got married, it was something I prioritized, clearing out space in my schedule at least once a year. It’s an opportunity for me to take a break from all my day-to-day tasks and spend time with the sacred: the transcendent sacred and the sacred within myself. It’s only when I’m alone for long periods of time that I finally get to hear whispers within my soul that have either been by suppressed by my many ongoing tasks or the many voices around me. 

It had been in my mind to go on a solo retreat (especially before I make a big change at the start of the year (news coming soon)) and two magical ingredients coalesced to make that possible. First, a friend told me about a Lutheran campsite that offers small cabins for individuals to rent out at a super low cost. Second, my in-laws came to visit during a time when there was an opening in one of the cabins, which meant that my husband could get extra support to take care of our kids and continue to work while I was away. 

So I went. And it was marvelous. In every single way. I hiked twice a day, had slow meals, read three books, worked on some writing projects, and prayed…a lot. I also spent like an hour each day going through my iPhone photos of my kids because I missed them so much. 

There was one way in which it felt a little underwhelming though. In the past, when I’ve gone on solo retreats, I almost always had a significant insight or big “aha” moment—a message from the sacred that felt so integral to what I was experiencing at the time. 

That big insight or aha moment never came. 

But upon reflecting on those three days in the woods by myself, I realize I did hear something. It was subtle, like a low reverberating noise in the background of everything I did, continuously affirming, “Keep doing what you’re doing, keep doing what you’re doing. You’re on the right path, follow your joy.” And I think that’s the most important thing I need to hear at this moment of my life. 

Since I’ve been back, I’ve noticed another natural consequence of my solo retreat: I’m a lot more patient and the small, tedious moments of my life feel more special. Before the retreat, I dreaded the mornings with the kids because of how flustered and chaotic it all was—getting the kids dressed, fed, packed up and ready for school, putting them in carseats (which is a 10 minute process in and of itself), etc. Each morning, I fumed with annoyance because I only got 2 minutes to myself to pee and brush my hair. Putting on makeup? You gotta be kidding me. Sure, the most obvious solution seems to wake up earlier than the kids but that would mean going to bed earlier. And the evenings, after the kids are asleep, are the only times my husband and I get to connect so I hate to give that up.

Being gone from my regular routine gave that regular routine a nostalgic glow so I’ve not been annoyed in the mornings. I’ve been playful and grateful and more attuned to my kids’ presence. Whereas before it was, “oh god, now I have to get them dressed,” it’s now, “yay! I get to get my beautiful kid dressed for the day!” I know that glow will eventually wear off but that just means I’ll have to plan another getaway.

That’s the gift of going away and having time to ourselves—we get fresh perspectives on mundane moments we take for granted.

When was the last time you got away? Do you prioritize that for yourself?