Nourishing Dry Bones

I used to do it annually.  I'd go to a retreat house not necessarily to go for a spiritual retreat as many would think of a retreat, but simply to slow down, quiet down, and listen to my inner Self where, according to many spiritual gurus, God also resides. 

Since four years ago, my annual retreats became more sporadic.  I must have had only two.  I had been very busy with work since I-can't-remember-when.  The metaphor that kept coming back was that of being in a treadmill.  Two weeks ago, I felt I just could not go on anymore.  I woke up one morning with the thought that I had the power to shut down the tread mill and step out of it; hence, the idea of extending my long weekend and spending a couple of days in a retreat house. 

At about the same time that I decided to send a message to my nun-friend and long-time spiritual co-journeyer to ask if I could have a retreat with her at their retreat house, I heard this familiar song while playing my album to listen to another song, God of Silence, a song which has always been like a spiritual well whenever I would begin to feel like Ezekiel's dry bones.  The song was written by Manoling Francisco, SJ for those who have become weary and burnt out from fighting social injustice.  

MANATILI KA

Manatili ka kahit sandali.

Hihilumin Ko ang iyong hapdi.

Bakit lagi nang nagmamadali?

Di malilisan ang 'yong pighati. 

Isaysay sa 'Kin, lahat mong pait.

Yayakapin Ko, ang iyong sakit.

Manahimik na't mata'y ipikit.

Bubulungan ka ng 'sang oyayi.

Kailan titigilan ang 'yong katatakbo?

Kailang pipigilan pagpasan mo sa mundo?

Manatili ka kahit sandali.

Buuin muli ang 'yong sarili.

Magtiwala ka't tayo'y magwawagi.

Ang pulang ulap ay mahahawi.  

A day before I left for the retreat, I found this Caroline Myss prayer on Facebook and thought it spoke to my heart.  So, I went to the retreat bring nothing but my journal, this prayer which I copied on my journal, and this song playing in my heart. 

I didn't leave the retreat house with profound spiritual experiences but with a  rested body, a greater awareness of where my tiredness was coming from, and how I would like 46 and beyond to look like.