I recently co-hosted a retreat in upstate New York with my friend Debbie. We gathered on the lakeshore grass, disconnecting from the problems of the world and reconnecting to nurturing conversations and new relationships. Even the weather took the journey, starting out hot and humid and slowly transforming to a cool fall breeze by the last morning. For a group usually hyper-connected to networks, projects, and tasks, the chance to untangle our crisscrossed "to-do" lists and focus on our "to be" list was definitely refreshing -
And a signal to the world to send us more!
“Thanks for joining us today,” said the unexpectedly cheerful voice at the airport. “Any questions about the menu?”
“What’s this beef sandwich?" Debbie asked our bartender, caught up in her energy. “I’ve never heard of 'weck' before.”
“You’ve never heard of weck? It’s only the best bread in the world!" she leaned forward. "It’s shaved steak with mustard on a delicious roll with salt and caraway seeds on top. It's a local specialty."
“Well, you're from around here, so it must be good,” Debbie shrugged.
“Not just good. It’s bangin’!”
We ordered the weck.
The second most dangerous part of a long period of stress is how it affects our attitude. Sustained panic starts to undermine our stamina and self-control. We see danger everywhere thanks to media devices that train our minds to doom-scroll even when we're offline. We look over our shoulders for shady characters and under rocks for ill-motives that aren't there. When we should be praising our progress, celebrating the stamina of our society and economy and neighborly efforts, what we recall are two state police officers escorting an unruly passenger from the arriving plane, then doing it again with another unwound traveler when we land (an hour later). Our attentions are on the negative, and we almost can't hear how well we're actually doing against the challenges -
Or as simple as having just flown through the air, something less than 80% of the world has ever experienced.
"We have to get a selfie with our host," I said to Debbie, as we finished our meal. "Her enthusiasm is refreshing - the most positive stranger I've met in a year. It's odd when you look at how empty and isolated she is in this airport. She's making us feel like we're the greatest thing to happen in her whole life."
All it took was three days. Off the grid, in the grass, sweating in the late summer sun. Talking to strangers about significant things, as if we'd been life-long friends. Sunrise activities like singing and walking and reading - poetry not posts. In less than seventy-two hours, we felt our sanity returning. When we created sculptures representing our futures - with legos and silly string and glue and paper - the results were the most moving messages we received all week.
Or in a while.
By the time we left for our "real" lives, the world was right there for us. "It's almost like the universe sent her to us to wrap up this week," Debbie smiled. "We're all on the same wavelength and the energy knows it."
"The same weck-length, you mean," I laughed, as we stood close for our selfie.