Letting a Question Lead You
Killarney Lake, Bowen Island
photograph by Julie Elliot
By Julie Elliot
During a five-day retreat on Bowen Island, we gathered at the labyrinth for a community walk. It was a beautiful, clear day and as we waited to begin, I felt connected to the people and what we were about to do – until we were given a question to hold as we walked the labyrinth. It startled me: “How do you hold your brokenness?” My brokenness? I’m not broken, I thought. I mean, hard things have happened in my life but they didn’t break me. The question didn’t sit well with me and I brought it up later with one of the other retreatants.
Together, we came to an understanding that “broken” could mean just not working fully – not functioning at the capacity for which it is designed, like a broken-down fan that only works on the lowest setting. This helped. With this definition of broken, I recalled my anxiety on the drive from the Okanagan to the retreat centre on Bowen Island. I’ve always been anxious when travelling alone to a new place. Was this a kind of brokenness?
That evening, as we prepared to go into silence for the next 24 hours, someone asked about driving to the lakes on the island. One of the leaders said she would find some maps. I felt immediate resistance and thought, “Wow, she's brave. I’d never do that.” Normally that thought would come and go but because I had been thinking about my brokenness, I paid more attention. I noticed a vague pit in my stomach as I even considered trying to find those lakes on my own.
But I was on retreat and that’s what retreats are about in my experience. The normal, every-day distractions are reduced. There’s more spaciousness. I feel my feelings and am aware of my thoughts with heightened clarity. This inner work – paying attention to what’s stirring – is what I signed up for. I wanted to go deeper. So, during this time with Silence, I intended to keep working with the clues so far: maps, getting lost, and anxiety.
The next morning, feeling the fear and doing it anyway, I consulted Google Maps and looked up the two lakes. One was seven minutes away and one was four minutes away. Not the scary drive along a coastal road that I had envisioned! I easily found Killarney Lake and as I walked around it, I wondered why I have this fear of getting lost. Then painful memories from childhood started to surface: big doors, busy hallways, ringing bells, and panic that I didn't know where to go. I found compassion for that uncertain new girl whose family moved constantly. She had to start over in a strange land every two or three years. And she was mostly on her own.
When I got back to the retreat house, I found clarity and solace through journalling and singing. I felt accompanied by the beautiful land and the community who moved beside me in Silence. At day’s end, I felt called to go to the prayer room and was gifted there with a poem. It wasn't new to me, but after my day with Silence, I read it in a new way:
At Blackwater Pond
by Mary Oliver
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?
Julie Elliot
knows that creativity is her greatest teacher. She integrates the inner and outer worlds through printmaking, SoulCollage, writing, and gardening. All are contemplative ways to pray. Julie is a spiritual companion who completed the Pacific Jubilee SoulGuiding program in 2015. She has been a program mentor in SoulGuiding since 2020. Read more about Julie’s spiritual direction practice here
