My First Retreat: When I Realized I Didn’t Know How to Slow Down

I needed to participate in everything.

The retreat facilitator hosted our weekend at a beautiful old mansion in rural north-central Pennsylvania. She had curated multiple optional activities — book groups, hikes, extra yoga classes — and I needed to participate in all of them.

I watched others napping, sitting quietly, gazing out at the forested hills, or journaling by the window. They appeared slow and relaxed, something my nervous system knew nothing of. I just knew I didn’t want to miss a single thing, so I clutched my schedule and dashed from one relaxing event to the next. I didn’t understand the others who seemed to miss many of the retreat’s happenings.

The facilitator gently reminded me that I didn’t have to participate in everything — that the activities were optional.

At first, I nodded politely, but inside I thought, Of course I do. Why else would I be here? I came to retreat to feel better, and my way of feeling better had always been through doing — through accomplishing, participating, and filling every space with activity. Slowing down felt uncomfortable. Rest felt foreign.

But as the days passed, I began to notice the undercurrent of anxiety beneath all that doing. My body was present at the retreat, but my mind was still running laps — making lists, planning, anticipating. I didn’t yet know how to be still.

It wasn’t until my second or third retreat that I began to understand what those quiet participants knew: there’s a whole other way of being, a gentler rhythm that doesn’t demand constant motion. When I finally allowed myself to pause — to skip an activity, to sit beneath a tree with no agenda — I started to see more clearly. I felt more whole, more connected, and oddly, life began to flow with greater ease.

That shift didn’t happen all at once. It unfolded slowly, each retreat helping me soften a little more, listen a little more deeply, and remember that rest, reflection, and stillness are not indulgences — they’re essential.

If you’ve never been on retreat, I hope you’ll give yourself that chance. Step away from the noise, the lists, and the endless doing, and come experience what it’s like to simply be. My retreats are designed to create that space — for quiet, for laughter, for reconnection — and for you to discover your own skillful, peaceful way of living.

You don’t have to get it “right.” You just have to show up.
Check out my upcoming Women’s Retreat in Pennsylvania, Silent Retreat in Pennsylvania, and retreat to Peru.