Recently, I attended a miraculous weekend retreat with a group of friends. We spent five days sharing stories, making collaborative paintings, taking gorgeous beach walks and coaching each other around our businesses + creative work.
We called it the “Radiate Sessions.”
Each person had a turn bringing something to the group they needed support with or guidance around. We created a loving circle around them and radiated pure possibility (plus all of our best collective wisdom) straight from our hearts to theirs. Whether it was your turn or not, you were transformed. Whatever medicine was being offered was somehow just what the rest of us needed too.
This retreat was incredibly heart-opening for me. The kind where you feel cracked open in the best way… crying lots of cathartic tears and expressing the most tender parts of your soul. While I feared that Zoloft would numb me out, it has done quite the opposite – it has calmed me down enough to feel the deeper layers of my heart –the unprocessed grief of the last 6 years, the profound love I have for my family and new hope for what’s possible in the future. My radiate session was about where my work is headed, but what these women really helped me do was open my heart.
As we left the house on the final morning, we all scrambled to get the sheets in the dryer, the dishes in the washer, and all of our bags packed and out the door. When I did a last scan of the house, I noticed that we had left one thing behind- a wishbone sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Who wants to do the wishbone with me?” I asked.
I haven’t wished on a wishbone since I was a kid, but as Leigh and I put our hands on each side of it I remembered the rules – that when it breaks, whoever gets the bigger piece will get their wish.
“Wait!” I said urgently, concerned that only one of us would get their wish, “Let’s make wishes for each other!”
So Leigh closed her eyes, and I closed mine, and I thought of the most wonderful secret wish for her. As we leaned backwards my worry returned, Oh no! What if she doesn’t get her wish?
At that moment, the wishbone broke. And something miraculous happened.
The center of the wishbone flew into the air, leaving two perfectly even pieces in each of our hands.
We all gasped.
For all the magic of the weekend, the wishbone moment is the one I keep coming back to. And I think it’s because the message was so beautiful and so clear:
That when we want the best for each other, when we don’t want to win if it means someone else will lose, when we know that my joy is yours and your success is mine, we all get our wishes.
And that my friends, is something to celebrate.
P.S. If a retreat like this is calling to you, stay tuned. I was so inspired by this weekend that I am planning my own intimate gathering for the end of September. If you want to be the first to know, email me here: firstname.lastname@example.org