I escaped Park Slope for the weekend and everyone seems to have survived in my absence. Apparently, my husband was telling those who asked that I was off being a goddess, dancing in a barn

Not far from the truth. But not quite.

Suffice it say, it was a "mindful" weekend with plenty of rest, quiet, inspiration and the good company of a small group of interesting women. It was, to say the least, fortifying.

I’m not sure what I appreciated most about my retreat in the Berkshires. But I certainly liked the "silent breakfasts."

I slept in a lovely room with rustic, antique furniture in the book-filled Race Brook Lodge, a 200 year old post and beam barn at the base of the Taconic Mountain range, and woke up with no one waking me, no sleeping child beside me, nothing to do for anyone else but me.

Each morning, I got to spend an hour or so simply getting ready for my day: showering, meditating, writing down my dreams, thoughtfully putting on my clothes, brushing my hair…

I found that in the quiet, I could easily remember my dreams, and spend time contemplating them. Sometimes it took 20 minutes or more, but details came back to me: little by little voices and images came to consciousness as I quiety began my day. 

At 8 a.m. I went downstairs to the sunny breakfast room. Everyone in my group was quiet, sitting at tables reading, writing, eating and drinking coffee or tea alone. There was delicious food to choose from: fresh fruit salad, homemade muffins, bagels, eggs, cheeses, cereals, muesli, orange juice, cranberry juice, water, Stonybrook yogurt – you name it.

I selected my breakfast with great care, trying a little bit of many things and sat by myself, smiling, nodding hello to my fellow retreaters as they came into the room.

The silence was anything but awkward. It was required, which  made it easy, so easy. It seemed completely natural and such a soothing way to begin.

At 9 a.m. we all walked up to the barn, a huge open space with enormous windows framing the woodsy view, the brook outside. Overhead, there were huge white Japanese lanterns. No longer silent, some talked, some stretched, some read or wrote in their journals.

When it came time for the dance to begin, we got into our circle, put our right hand over left, held hands with those to either side and waitied for the music to begin.

And then, our group of ten women danced a simple Greek dance to the music of Nina Masouri – a soulful song with a heart wrenchingly beautiful melody.

Even this morning, back in Brooklyn, I can’t get that song out of my head, or the simple steps out of my body. Nor would I want to.

I’d love to try the silent breakfast approach around here. And a simple Greek dance before everyone goes out the door would be great way to begin our hectic days. But somehow, I don’t think it’s gonna work. Just don’t think so…

-Louise G. Crawford