Archive for April, 2015
In my last blog, I promised to write more about my residential retreat with Saniel and Linda Groves-Bonder at their home in Sonoma, California. I left you and me hanging on the question whether I would have enough to talk about during my two-day retreat. It turns out my fear was almost groundless. I did run out of “personal stuff” to bring forward, but it didn’t matter. We filled the space by working on two projects I’m doing with Saniel and Linda, and by simply being together in simple, every-day terms.
For instance, I volunteered to drive Saniel into Sonoma to do some errands, including buying cat food and six rather large sacks of bird seed. Linda likes to feed the birds—every one of them, it seems, living in Sonoma County and beyond. I can imagine word of mouth traveling at warp speed within the aviary community about delicious, free food.
Have you ever been inside a hay/grain/birdseed store? Not this city slicker. I had only been to the main “drags” in town. Saniel helped me to experience Sonoma from a resident’s point-of-view. It’s a quaint country town with a population of only 10,400. Let me add, I gave myself a few extra days to explore some of the surrounding cities. I found Sausalito to be the most interesting of these. It’s a beautiful town overlooking the San Francisco Bay with lovely homes terraced into the hills and populated by artists, musicians, New-Age thinkers, and other adventuresome souls. The more conventional residents were probably working in nearby San Francisco somewhere across the Golden Gate Bridge. The weather in northern California at this time of year can only be described as “glorious and majestic.”
Pardon my digression.
I become really happy around Saniel and Linda thanks to their powerful transmissions. During our time together, we laughed, worked hard, and had lots of fun. There was a bonus event (for me) on Sunday called “a sitting” where Saniel and Linda hosted nine local people for a two-hour session of meditation and sharing.
After these two and a half days, I’m cooked. I can’t say if I’m rare, medium, or well-done. I just know I’m cooked and it’s a good thing.
While meditating at the Sunday morning sitting an image came to me: hands knitting golden threads into a golden rope. The image suggested to me a certain perfect harmony that surrounded everything Saniel, Linda and I said and did. There was another entity at work with us, weaving together the strands of our collective efforts into a golden rope. Everything that happened just sort of fell into place, as if by magic. (I know what my next book project will be about. It fell into my lap as lightly as a feather.) The golden rope brought us closer together; more comfortable in our Being and knowing of one another—linked heart-to-heart, now and into the future.
I’m on a Jet Blue flight to San Francisco. The purpose of my journey is a two-day “personal retreat” in Sonoma with my teachers, Saniel and Linda-Groves Bonder. The retreat is part of an intensive ten-month course entitled “The White-Hot Yoga of the Heart.”
I’m concerned about filling the two days with Saniel and Linda with enough meaningful material to discuss. It will be just the three of us. No other students will be present, which is usually the case with the other “in person” retreats and the tele-course seminars. I won’t be able to snooze or go off into my own little world. There will be no opportunities to take “time off” during our sessions. Gulp.
We’ll spend some time working on marketing projects that I’ve initiated and we’ll take a trip to the beach or the mountains. We’ll do some meditation. This still leaves a lot of time to fill in two days, including lunch and dinner.
We’ll talk about “my stuff,” or in more dignified terms, “my process.” As I’ve grown on this path, I’ve become less inclined to talk about myself, yet some self-talk is necessary. It’s a challenge to decide what is worth talking about and what isn’t. I suppose it’s hard to know in advance what to talk about, but it makes sense to come ready with a few notes. When push comes to shove, I think the shotgun approach is the best way to go: just blurt out whatever comes up on the topics I’ve come prepared to discuss. The golden nuggets will spew forth in the midst of the dross.
I’ve learned to try to listen to feedback and not sit there thinking about what to say next. For me, that’s easier said than done.
Lately, I’ve developed the habit of saying succinctly what little I have to say. This new habit only exacerbates the problem of how to fill the time. My teachers are experts in filling the awkward gaps in conversation. Still, I feel responsible for coming to the retreat with enough material to fill the space. I’m not exactly brimming over with material.
I’ll just have to be cool and see what happens. I’ll fill you in on the flight home.