As summer winds down, fall leaves begin their descent from green to gold, and many people in Gilroy are taking the opportunity to go on one last trip. Some are enjoying Bay Area backroads treks for the weekend, and some, like my friend Lisa, journeyed to Maui with her two children for respite after a year in which they suffered the loss of husband and father.
My last-minute squeezed-in summer escape was closer to home. I got in the car and drove 188 miles to Auburn, where after a few wrong turns I found my way to the soothing and peaceful grounds of a place called, “Mercy Retreat Center.” As I drove onto the property, it was like entering a different world.
Not only is it a beautiful and inspiring place, but there is a feeling of serenity there that leads to a desire for more contemplation, a true feeling of “separation” from the everyday worries and cares of life.
Once there, I quickly met the other women who had come together to explore the theme of “Embracing Courage.” How extraordinary it was to meet this group of 31 women. They are all survivors with stories to tell that weave together many common threads that when experienced simultaneously produce a cumulative impact that cannot be rivaled.
Many of these women have survived breast cancer. Many have survived the deaths of spouses. Charlotte, widow and a colon cancer survivor, still enjoys working everyday at age 80. Some have survived abusive spouses. Colleen’s husband gave her an ultimatum to lose 20 pounds in 30 days, or else he would leave her. She had the courage to start life over again. The son she raised from the earlier marriage is now 41, and she is raising an 11-year-old son with a husband who treats her well.
Even beyond that, many have survived the deaths of their own children. One lost her 42-year-old son who lived in Morgan Hill to a sudden heart attack while on a camping trip he was leading with Scouts. She and her husband have shared their home with 100 foster children over the course of their lives.
Another woman had just undergone cancer treatment the day before coming on the retreat and has fought it for more than eight years, yet she is full of light and life.
Terri, a former MP in the Army, has suffered through major health issues that have taken a toll, yet she left little gifts on our pillows each night, words of inspiration and tokens of love and care. The tiny pin she left on my pillow read simply, “Compassion.”
The women were vibrantly alive and busy living impactful lives helping others in their communities. They all talked of the women who have inspired them and made a difference in their lives; they all talked of the grace of God, of how blessed they are, and how fortunate they are. They conveyed joy in living. These women exemplify for me as a younger woman how vital life can at any age given the necessary attitude of courage.
Retreat facilitator Holly Hillman works with women in prison, most them coming from abusive backgrounds. Hillman is part of a team who visits and brings them letters written by complete strangers, which the women read and reread until they fall into tatters, literally crumbling into dust, so desperate are they for a word of hope. Hillman asked for a volunteer at our retreat to come up for a demonstration of the power of the words we say to ourselves, an exercise she does with women wherever she goes.
The volunteer held her right arm straight out from her side parallel to the ground, while Hillman instructed her to say a negative word out loud to herself three times that she would typically think of when angry with herself, such as “Idiot.”
Our volunteer repeated, “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” Then Hillman pushed on her arm, and it easily fell straight down to her side, even though she had been instructed to resist with all her might.
Then Hillman instructed her to repeat to herself an affirming phrase.
“I am made in the image of God. I am made in the image of God. I am made in the image of God.”
Hillman pushed down on her arm with the same amount of pressure as before.
This time she could not get the arm to budge even one inch. It stayed strong and immovable.
“It works every time,” Hillman said. “Words either give life or give death. There are no neutral words.”
