A Retreat That Became a Pilgrimage
Have you ever longed for a retreat but found yourself facing obstacles at every turn? Keep reading to find a new solution.
Perhaps the timing clashed with your schedule, or the location was in a far-off country.
(I’ve often dreamed of attending Christine Valter Paintner’s teachings in Ireland!)
Or maybe, like me, you’ve been deterred by the costs—accommodations, speakers’ fees, travel expenses—all adding up to more than your budget allows.
Recently, as I grappled with this familiar dilemma, a realization struck me.
What if the perfect retreat setting was hiding in plain sight, nestled within the very fabric of my community?
Discovering Hidden Gems
Maine, where I call home, is dotted with libraries—some grand and renowned, others charming stone structures that have stood the test of time in small towns across the state.
As I pondered my retreat options, I began to see these libraries in a new light. What might they offer to a soul in search of renewal?
– Silence and solitude?
– Space for reflection?
– A wealth of books and knowledge?
– A unique ambiance steeped in history?
– Scenic views to inspire contemplation?
– The presence of literary ghosts and the spirit of present-day readers ?
– Comfortable seating for reading and writing?
– Practical amenities like restrooms and nearby dining options?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that libraries could provide almost everything I seek in a retreat center—minus a formal director.
But did I really need one?
The retreat I craved was about connecting with a deep longing in my soul, tapping into the Mystery, and seeking Divine guidance in a space that might offer me a changed perspective or creative inspiration.
From Retreat to Pilgrimage
As I began to plan, I realized that what I was crafting was more than a simple retreat—it was evolving into a pilgrimage.
Instead of staying in one place, I would journey from town to town, allowing the spirit to guide me.
I mapped out a path about 40 miles long, identifying four libraries along the route.
To add a touch of companionship to my solitary quest, I invited an old friend with whom I used to attend retreats years ago.
Our pilgrimage began shortly after breakfast as we drove to Belfast, a picturesque coastal town at the end of our planned route.
The day unfolded with a series of meaningful encounters and moments of reflection:
1. The Footbridge: My friend embarked on a short walk across a footbridge to a small island, while I stayed behind with Dekker, my faithful canine companion.
As we waited, I struck up a conversation with a man and his brindle German Shepherd, a rescue dog with a calm, contented presence.
I couldn’t help but wonder if they, too, were on their own kind of pilgrimage.
2. The Labyrinth: Our next stop, just a half-mile away, was a large labyrinth on the village green overlooking the harbor.
Here, I continued my pilgrimage in earnest, using the winding path as a tool for introspection.
As I walked, I released my burdens, questions, and the clamoring voices in my mind, opening myself to whatever the day might bring.
Dekker, ever the patient companion, followed each turn slowly, seeming to contemplate whatever deep thoughts occupy a dog’s mind.
I mused, half-jokingly, if he might have been a monk in a past life.
3. The Library: Two blocks from the labyrinth stood our first library of the day, its windows offering a panoramic view of the labyrinth and the sea beyond.
I found a quiet spot at a table on the third floor, gazing out in wonder at how this pilgrimage was unfolding.
With notebook and pen in hand, I opened myself to receive questions, messages, and stories from a source I rarely take the time to listen to in my daily life.
The morning passed in a peaceful flow, as quiet as the blood coursing through my veins.
Nourishment for Body and Soul
As the library portion of our retreat drew to a close, my friend gently asked, “Are you hungry?”
The question brought me back to the physical world, and I realized that yes, I was in need of something to eat.
My mind drifted to a nearby open-air Thai restaurant overlooking the harbor and the quaint business district.
It’s curious how differently we eat when our souls are fed. We shared a single order of shrimp and vegetables in Thai sauce, and found ourselves completely satisfied.
If I been only shopping in the quaint shops and enjoying the scenery instead of contemplating deep things of the spirit I likely would have devoured an entire portion by myself.
But this day was different—my appetite had been tempered by the spiritual nourishment I’d received.
Next we moved back up the road towards home, stopping at two small quaint libraries.
One had a small table in front of a fireplace, the other was somewhat of a stop-n-go place.
Their sign on the door reflected a lot of community activities for children.
Destination Surprise
“How about we stop for a glass of wine?” I suggested to my friend as we left the third library.
We would be passing a local winery, famous for its Maine blueberry wine, and I had never been there.
We discovered a quaint little tasting room, just a few miles out from our hometown.
I settled down in a large leather chair with a delightful ‘flight’ of four different homemade ciders (YUM!) and proceeded to ponder my day and the doors that opened to me in my first (of many?) library pilgrimages.
Reflections on a Different Kind of Retreat
As I reflect on this unconventional retreat experience, I’m struck by how accessible and rewarding it was.
By thinking creatively and looking to our local resources, we can craft meaningful spiritual experiences without the need for expensive travel or formal retreat centers.
Libraries, with their quiet atmospheres and wealth of knowledge, offer an ideal setting for introspection and personal growth.
They stand as testaments to human curiosity and the pursuit of wisdom—qualities that align perfectly with my goals of a spiritual retreat.
Moreover, the act of moving from place to place—from footbridge to labyrinth to library(s) to tasting room—added a pilgrimage-like quality to the day. Each location offered its own lessons and opportunities for reflection, creating a rich tapestry of experiences that a single-location retreat might not have provided.
Invitation to Explore
I invite you to consider how you might create your own local retreat or pilgrimage.
What hidden gems exist in your community that could serve as waypoints on a journey of self-discovery?
How might you use the resources around you—be they libraries, parks, or other public spaces—to carve out time for reflection and spiritual renewal?
Remember, the most profound retreats often don’t require distant travel or significant expense.
Sometimes, the deepest insights can be found right in our own backyards, waiting for us to slow down, open our hearts, and listen.
As you contemplate your next retreat, consider the possibility that the perfect setting might be closer than you think.
Who knows what mysteries and revelations await you in the quiet corners of your local library or the winding paths of a nearby park? Or even in a quiet uninhabited tasting room.
Your pilgrimage, like mine, might lead you to discover that the journey itself—with its unexpected encounters and moments of quiet reflection—is the true destination.