Making Room for the Broken Heart, Part 2: My Five Day Spiritual Journey

In my previous blog, I wrote about the value of creating time and space to heal. And just last week, I took my own recommendation to a new level by spending five (mostly) alone days in Northern California – a luxurious (and somewhat daunting) amount of time and space. My pseudo retreat was initiated by my husband’s loving suggestion that I take some solo self-care time, and I gratefully took him up on the offer.

After driving up the coast to tour Berkeley University with my daughter and husband, I dropped the two of them off at the Oakland airport for their return home and began my journey. I tearfully hugged them goodbye, anxiously realizing I had done nothing of this sort since my college years and uncertain where my journey would take me emotionally on the heels of the losses of my brother and father.

My sweet daughter reminded me that I could come home whenever I wanted and my husband gave me a tight reassuring hug. Off they went into the airport and off I drove loaded with journals, books, my meditation cushion, a list of podcasts, & google maps.

I knew where I would stay each night and had a plan for some structure – daily meditation, journaling, reading, and long walks in nature. I also identified areas of my life I wanted to explore. But along with my plan and focus areas, I was mindful to not pressure myself to definitively figure anything out or to get attached to coming out of my journey feeling a certain way. (I’ve learned after attending dozens of retreats, that it’s virtually impossible to predict how I’ll feel at the end, and getting attached to an outcome is mostly a set-up for disappointment). Oh, I also committed not to calling the people I regularly support – especially my many broken-hearted relatives – in order to fully tend to my own heart and healing.

Fortunately, and gratefully, my five-day spiritual journey was magical, healing, occasionally challenging and rich with gifts. By “coincidence,” both of the spiritual teachers with whom I’ve been practicing meditation during Covid live in Northern California. When I reached out and asked if they are seeing people in person, both welcomed me with open arms – literally. One teacher, with whom I have a longer relationship, even invited me to stay in her guest house. The other I met for the very first time. My in-person time with them, and their generosity of care and wisdom, was touching and precious.

Every day, per my plan, I journaled and without the time pressure of daily responsibilities, my journaling flowed and was rich with insights. One powerful insight I uncovered had to do with grieving over my recently deceased brother Eddie. When I was writing about him, I realized I have ambivalence about saying farewell to those deep, sorrowful tears of grief. I grasped that it was exactly in those moments of intense sadness that I felt closest to Eddie. And with that awareness, I realized the need to develop other, joyful ways to remain closely connected to him. What a powerful insight!

Also per my plan, I meditated every day and focused entirely on breathing into the center of my chest, also known as the “heart center.” You should know that for many years I’ve experienced a literal ache just above my heart whenever I’m emotionally challenged – lately, that area had been aching a lot. Spending dedicated time consciously breathing into that area proved to be a soothing balm. To my delight, the pain relented and my chest felt as if it began to re-open – just as though I was coming out of a protective shell after years, and especially months, of intense sorrow.

Over these precious days, as my pace slowed and my heart opened, I was utterly taken by the beauty of nature. Wildflowers were spectacular, reeds seemed to dance in the wind, and the stars glistened in the cool nights. As I hiked, I could feel my body and spirit fed by nature. And as I hiked, I also saw snakes – animals symbolic of change. Historically, I am not a fan of snakes and especially of close encounters. But this time I wasn’t fazed when I saw a baby rattler on a trail near Santa Rosa. And, on my last day while hiking in Ojai (when I just knew I would see another snake), I was actually able to stop and admire the beauty of a striped California King Snake crossing the path in front of me. And he was big!

I fully realize that five days of solo time is a luxury. No, it wasn’t a luxurious vacation but it was invaluable quiet time, when I was able to put aside most of life’s daily responsibilities, and to tend to my head and heart. I know many of us don’t get this gift of extended time and space. But tending to the heart in any small way is always possible and always valuable. Whether it’s time and space set aside to meditate, journal, reflect, star gaze and/or walk alone in nature, it is always a gift to the spirit. My wish for each of you is that you find even a few minutes each day to nurture yourself with these precious opportunities.

With love and gratitude,

~Shayna