When was the last time you tried something simply because you were curious? Not because you were prepared, or confident, or even sure it made sense — but because something in you whispered, maybe this matters.
Over the past six months, I’ve been deepening my meditation practice through a certification program in leading meditation and spiritual psychology. Nearly every day, I sit for just under twenty minutes, cycling through different practices. It’s become one of those habits where I can feel it in my body when I’ve missed a day — a grounding ritual that keeps me steady.
Opportunity Knocks
So when an email landed in my inbox advertising a two‑and‑a‑half‑day retreat with a Tibetan monk in Phoenix, I deleted it without a second thought. The timing was terrible. Kyle was starting a new job that week, we were hosting family for Easter, and the idea of flying across the country felt impossible. I told myself it wasn’t meant to be and moved on.
Two days later, Roxanne forwarded me the same email.
She asked if I wanted to go with her. I actually laughed out loud. Of course she would ask. I started typing a polite “thanks but no thanks,” and before I hit send, something made me pause.
I’m too busy… for a retreat on compassion and love? Really?
Isn’t that exactly what I’d need during a big family transition? Isn’t that the foundation of how I want to parent? Maybe I shouldn’t dismiss this so quickly.
So I told her I needed the weekend to think about it. Meanwhile, she was apparently panicking that I might actually say yes — which she later wrote about in her own Substack post. (here’s her link, if you want to read it https://open.substack.com/pub/roxannehupp/p/decision-regret?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web)
I talked to Kyle. I checked the calendar. It just happened to fall on the only weekend in April without a volleyball tournament. I looked up flights and realized I had just enough reward points to cover mine. Suddenly the thing that felt impossible… wasn’t.
Sunday night, I emailed Roxanne: “I’m in.”
We booked the flight, the Airbnb, the car. I’d never traveled with her before, but it didn’t even cross my mind to worry. We arrived in Phoenix, had a glass of wine, reread the retreat description… and realized it was extremely vague. No agenda. No outline. Nothing for two detail‑oriented engineers to latch onto. We were going in blind.
Arriving with an open heart
The opening night was beautiful — jewel‑toned cushions, velvet couches, an elevated bench for the monk. And then… an hour and a half of visualization and chanting. Long stretches of chanting.
At the end, all we were told was, “Retreat participants, see you at 9 a.m. tomorrow. We’ll have a booklet.”
Roxanne and I sat outside under two gorgeous trees in the warm Phoenix evening, trying to process what we’d just experienced. My first thought was: Wow. Okay. What exactly are we doing for two full days?
Day one answered that question quickly: three two‑hour sessions of visualization and chanting. No variation. Small breaks for some explanation. Repetition, depth, and intensity. It felt like signing up for a beginner class and walking into a graduate seminar.
Day two? The exact same schedule. But something shifted. The repetition made it easier to drop in. I wasn’t worried about getting the syllables wrong. I could actually experience it.
I’m not planning to become a Buddhist, but the practice was stunning. And after that much repetition, the chant is in my body now — in a way I didn’t expect.
And here’s the thing: if the retreat description had been honest about what it actually was, I probably would have said no. I would have missed something that ended up being intense, beautiful, and deeply meaningful.
There is beauty in the unexpected
My biggest takeaway? There is so much beauty in the unexpected.
When we loosen our grip on how we think something should go, we make space for what it could become.
Do you ever say yes to something outside your routine and find yourself surprised by what it gives you? I’d love to hear your story.
Stay curious.