Grief Retreat
Saturday July 22nd & 29th | 6-9pm
(The tea bar will be open each week with light snacks/hors d’oeuvres 30 minutes prior to start time.)
Cost: $95
(+ optional additional 3rd week focusing on the rhythm of lament)
This retreat will be a space to give some breathing room for our grief. The goal is not so much to work through grief as a problem to be solved and rid of so that we can move on with our lives, but to let grief rise to the surface. To hear what it has to say. Without a proper container, our grief often gets buried down within us, time and time again, burying pieces of ourselves with it. Many of us hold within us a lifetime of congested grief. From death and familiar losses to the grief occurring in disappointment and the places often untouched by love, my hope and intention is to provide a space for this that notices the sacredness of such a task, and surrounds it with comfort, beauty, and honor.
This will be a time of sacred companionship with Jesus and one another. As with all the make_room retreats, this means asking intentional questions and leaving room to sit in solitude with Jesus. It also means gathering together where we are seen, witnessed and welcomed by one another with a deep and shared experience of belonging. Often strangers immediately feel a welcome sense of companionship and togetherness as we sit together. Weather permitting, we will spend some time around a fire, as this is often a welcome companion to grief.
Given the nature of grief, and that it is often heavy, this retreat will take place in 2 parts, on sub sequential Saturday evenings. Each evening will have an element of teaching, an invitation to sit with Jesus, and an invitation to witness/share in our grief together. Our first week will be spent looking more at the large collection of grief we each are holding. During our second week, we will spend time learning and experiencing what it looks to enter in to one of these griefs with more depth.
Often, as we witness the grief of another, we sense the grief within us longing to rise to the surface and be witnessed as well. This can be a really beautiful and freeing thing. Know that as we gather, we share, and we witness one another, this is done on your terms. No one will ever be forced to share, or asked to share more than they feel comfortable or ready to. This is an invitational process.
A Few Notes:
There are a total of 7 spots available for this retreat.
Each participant will receive a make_room grieve candle.
The tea bar will be open each week with light snacks/hors d’oeuvres 30 minutes prior to our start time. (Doors open at 5:30, retreat begins at 6)
There is an optional/additional week 3, in which we will spend time walking through some teaching, reflection, and exercises in lament as a spiritual practice. This is a great opportunity to begin to learn what it might be like to create space for grief in the natural rhythm of your days, weeks, and months. Week 3, on lament, will take place Saturday, Aug. 5th from 7-9pm. You can choose to register up front for week 3 as a bundle ($120 total) or add at a later date for $35.
*Our time together, though important, understandably, is just a beginning in scratching the surface of welcoming and processing grief in our lives. Likely, we could continue to walk through these grief retreats many times over with one another, given the time and space. I also want to recognize that we likely may have known, or unknown griefs come up that could use help, direction and further time and space with a professional counselor, therapist, pastor, etc. We acknowledge we have a limited capacity in addressing some of what our grief might bring up to the surface, and also furthermore release the pressure of fixing or solving in this space. We do however, commit to listening, welcoming, and caring for one another in the space we have.
A Few Quotes from Frances Weller’s, The Wild Edge of Sorrow, on Grief
When our grief cannot be spoken, it falls into the shadow and re-arises in us as symptoms.
When grief remains unexpressed, however, it hardens, becomes as solid as a stone. We, in turn, become rigid and stop moving in rhythm with the soul.
It is our unexpressed sorrows, the congested stories of loss, that when left unattended, block our access to the soul.
In the absence of this depth of community, the safe container is difficult to find. By default, we become the container ourselves, and when this happens, we cannot drop into the well of grief in which we can fully let go of the sorrows we carry. We recycle our grief, moving into it and then pulling it back into our bodies unreleased.
The truth is we need both the vital exhalation of community and the renewing inhalation of our interior lives for our grief to move and change over our long walk with sorrow. Our healing is in “every small contracting and expanding.”
I see this work as soul activism, a form of deep resistance to the disconnected way in which our society has conditioned us to live. Grief is subversive, undermining our society’s quiet agreement that we will behave and be in control of our emotions. It is an act of protest that declares our refusal to live numb and small.