We don't always need to know...

"In the darkness, we hide, fearing the light, and 

yet it is the light that frees our soul..."

- Anonymous

"Hi, I'm Bill. I'm an alcoholic and co-dependent." The group with knowing smiles, replied in unison, “Hi Bill.”

The beginning...

My friend Gail invited me to a weekend retreat at the Redemptorist Renewal Center, on one-hundred twenty-acres  at Picture Rocks on the edge of the Saguaro (Swar-ō) National Park West. The property is filled with hiking trails and ancient petroglyphs of the Hohokam Indians. While the facility is run under the auspices of the Roman Catholic Church, it is open to many groups and individuals seeking daily and/or multi-day retreats.

The program, Gail said, would be led by her friend and Buddhist guru, Jim. Naturally, I thought this was going to be a Buddhist retreat where I would have the opportunity to listen to and learn from people who practice this form of spiritual awareness.  My exposure to Buddism has come from taking classes through Great Courses (https://www.thegreatcourses), reading a book or two, and occasional early morning coffee with Gail.

The day could not have been better. Driving into the foothills of the Tucson Mountains, the air was sunny and crisp, the sky blue and clear as a bell. We arrived early and had a few moments to get oriented. Gail had been to one or two of these annual retreats before. It was all new to me and I was excited.

The meeting room was bright from the daylight streaming through large windows and overhead lighting. There were eight portable, white tables, each with four chairs. Gail and I sat right up front.

Jim, as it turned out was a gregarious outgoing man with an energetic ‘leaning in’ personality. Gail made the introductions. He had a way of welcoming that was enthusiastic and yet not intrusive.

Let's get going...

The program start - 7:30 am. We were given a twenty-six-page booklet titled: Welcome to “There’s a spiritual answer to all your problems,” retreat. Waiting for everyone to show up, I thumbed through the manual.

The first page was an agenda for the day. The opening session, breakfast, first a group session then a small group discussion. This format would be repeated three times in the course of the day. A lunch break separated the morning from the afternoon.  

The pamphlet was full of uplifting and spiritual content, ending with ‘Namaste,’ the Hindu salutation of oneness – “My soul honors your soul.”

Pretty standard fare, I assumed. This was going to be an interesting and fun day.

Wait! What?

You know how cognitive dissonance works. You have an idea that guides what you hear and see. It becomes discordant when you realize what you thought you were hearing turns out to be something entirely different, and you resist the change!

As the early stages of the day began to unfold I realized this was NOT a Buddhist retreat, but rather an annual spiritual retreat for people who were working to overcome addiction in their lives. Jim was a Buddhist, as Gail had told me but because both he and she were Buddhists, I made the mental leap that this is what the retreat would be about. As it turned out, she was not there because of addiction issues, but rather to support Jim. She had just thought this was something I would enjoy.

Jim was leading an addiction retreat!

Once I had recalibrated the purpose of the day, I wondered: What the heck have I gotten into?!

After the opening group session, where we worked through parts of the printed material, we broke into small groups to discuss low self-esteem, validation, and addiction. My anxiety growing by the millisecond. 

As my group entered a small carpeted library with cushioned chairs, my mind was racing. To say I was uncomfortable would be a significant understatement. I was a long way from home with no transportation and this was the last place I wanted to be!

The person on my right began and we would move counter-clockwise. "Hi, I'm Bill. I'm an alcoholic and co-dependant."

"Hi, Bill," the group replied. Bill hadn't had a drink in several years and credited Alcohol Anonymous for his sobriety. He was still in a co-dependent relationship that was unhealthy but was working on it through Co-Dependency Anonymous (CODA). Once he had talked for a few minutes, the person on his right spoke.

“Hi, I’m John. I’m an alcoholic. I’ve been sober for ten years.” “Hi, John,” we all replied.

And so it went from person to person in this small group - men and women. As the torch was passed around the circle, I was touched by their openness, vulnerability, and recognition that without help, they might not be alive. They appeared to find comfort in the battles they had fought, murmuring in agreement with things that resonated with them. While each of the stories was different – most were heart-wrenching – there was a commonality of the struggle.

You're up, man...

 “Hi, I’m Ted,” I said with some noticeable hesitance. “I’m here as a guest. I thought this was going to be a Buddhist retreat.”

The group chuckled as they said, “Hi, Ted.” There was an acceptance I wasn’t expecting and in an instant, I can't explain, I felt welcome.

I shared that I had lived in a spiritual community for three decades where I found solace and stability. A place where I had studied the Judeo-Christian scriptures and, with the guidance of elders, acquired tools to help sort my life. I said I wouldn't be confessing anything concerning my past because it was over and revisiting it carried no profit. The group understood. There was no pressure. Their acceptance…my relief…a nice combination!

Time was up, and we headed back to the large group where we worked through more of the manual. As the day progressed, we broke again into more small groups (different people each time). The first topic was relationships and codependency, the latter group, authentic self and life purpose.

By the second and third small sessions, I felt relaxed, looking forward to hearing and learning from the other participants.

As quickly as it started, it was over…

The day wrapped with a group discussion in the main conference room. The tables were gone, replaced by a large circle of chairs. It was time for a post-mortem of things learned from the day. Each person spoke as we went around the circle. I would never have imagined I could feel at ease in a setting like this, particularly with people I didn't know. I had done a number of group encounters in the past. They were always intrusive and stressful. This was different.

After several folks had spoken, it was my turn. “Hi, I’m Ted.”

“Hi, Ted,” the group responded.

I shared I had been profoundly touched during the retreat. It was awe-inspiring to see these people’s guilelessness, their willingness to expose personal fragility, their gratitude for having found a place where they felt safe and unafraid. I was struck by the shared joy they found in the commonality of their daily battles. I expressed gratitude for the privilege of having shared this unexpected day and more so for being so openly accepted. It was a tender moment for all.

It's always the ending...

The day was unexpectedly enlightening. It was a day where I gained a deeper appreciation for the journey with which we all struggle and the many who quietly work to help others, for no other reason than, ‘just because.’ I was further struck by the depths of despair from which so many of these folk had come.

The scripture says, "…for when I am weak, then am I strong." (2Co. 12:10). That day, I met warriors who got up every morning doing all they could to reach the night, clean and sober – one day at a time.

On the way home, I thought had I been more inquisitive of Gail, I might not have attended. Of course, I would not have known what I had missed...rather what I had not known.

There were apparently other plans afoot!!

“Hi, I’m Ted…”