vaccine

Hiking My Way Retreat - 2022

I had the privilege of attending a retreat in 2019 hosted by Shanti Hodges and Mirna Valerio and it was transformative. I had spent almost all of my 30s juggling a long commute, being pregnant, and taking care of babies that I completely neglected my own physical, mental, and emotional health. The year I turned 40, I vowed to make my own health a higher priority and saving up money to attend this retreat was part of that.

I wrote about that specific retreat here and I find it funny how I really only documented the hikes we went on rather than the experience itself. Maybe I couldn’t find the words?

The following year, I saved up even more money and got some help from my mom and my brother-in-law so I could bring my sister with me. It was a wonderful experience to get to share this escape with her. We both needed the time to reconnect with ourselves as women and it was perfect timing too. That retreat took place the last week of February in 2020… literally weeks before everything shut down.

Shanti wasn’t able to host a retreat in 2021, but with the Covid vaccine finally available and the virus seeming to head down a path towards becoming endemic, a retreat happened again back in February. Shanti asked if I’d like to come and be a staff member. So long as I could make things work with my husband and the carpooling of kids to and from school, he made it happen for me.

There’s something magical about coming to the desert and spending time with complete strangers. We all came for a seemingly singular purpose: to move our bodies outside. But within a single day, it became a sacred space where we could be completely vulnerable and naked; both figuratively and literally in some cases. Even with this being my third time attending, with mostly different women each time (there have been a few repeat offenders), it became the same magical space of support and community.

We were all asked one night “why are you here?” For many, that was a loaded question, for others, not as much. Some of us had lost our selves in motherhood or careers and were trying to find us again. Some wanted to connect with women and be part of a new community. Others simple needed a retreat; in every sense of the word.

Tuesday is an Episcopalian rector and she attended the event this past month. She wrote a beautiful blog post about her experience and comparing it to why Jesus went into the desert.

“Being in the desert quickly calls your attention to what is essential. What do you take in your pack each day? Whatever you bring, you carry for many miles. Start with plenty of water and portable foods to sustain you on the trails. Temperatures rise quickly and drop quickly - layers are essential. Sunscreen, hats, gloves, first aid kits, phones to take pictures with, maybe a GPS device. Not much else. Too much and you risk carrying more than you need, wasting valuable energy. Too little and you risk dehydration, hunger, sunburns, and open wounds.”

I am probably one of the least-religious people I know, and I found her words really moving and spot-on with how curative and healing being in the desert has been for me; especially when I’m there with other women.

“We waited on one another. We accommodated one another. We showed each other what we knew. We were good company. At the end of the day, we knew deep down in the marrow of our bones that we were alive, that life is a gift, and that gift is a joy-filled good. What power does the tempter have over such as this?

In the desert, everything is stripped down to what is most essential: water; food; basic supplies; kinship; reverence. The rest just weighs you down.”

With the combined knowledge and skill throughout the group, we took care of each other. We had women who had never visited Utah before and some who were veterans at hiking in the desert. We had women who were ultra-runners and women who were hiking on trails for the very first time. We were all shapes and sizes, and ages that spanned more than a few decades.

Shanti has a magical talent for bringing people together and it was an honor to get to be a part of it; every time.