by Daphne Lobb
Opening the door to the ‘Gathering,’ an apt name for a spacious, ethereal, finely-crafted building amidst a grove of ancient cedars, I notice the candles already flickering on the window ledges setting a mood of quiet contemplation. Claire and Judy arrived before me to carefully prepare the space. They know I am not usually a morning person!
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At Callanish, I have also been known as ‘quality control’ and teased relentlessly about my attention to the fine details of setting up sacred retreat spaces. I smile inside knowing that it has paid off over all these years.
Claire has a beautiful poetry book that she has thoughtfully picked out to begin our morning meditation. She chooses a poem by Rabindranath Tagore. Claire has more than twenty years’ experience of Zen meditation practice and this morning she gives this group of eleven doctors, her colleagues, gentle encouragement to still our “wildly secreting” minds. We all settle into the quiet.
Judy, a master in her calling as a physiotherapist, has been up for hours making notes on recipe cards about breathing and stretching and anatomy. I know she doesn’t need the cards, but I’m pleased with the comfort they give her. I witness my physician colleagues take in her wisdom about the body, their bodies. She guides us to breathe with our diaphragms so we will ‘move our organs,’ (not something I have thought about before!), and to drink lots of water because we are actually evaporating minute by minute. Our bodies are more than 60% water.
Next Claire, Judy and I bring out an array of differently pitched crystal bowls and place them on the richly coloured Persian carpet in the centre of the room. I remember sipping Turkish tea in Bodrum with the artisan family who was selling that indigo and blood orange wool carpet thirty-five years ago. We laughed and bartered and they told stories of their life in that small town, proud of the craftmanship of their weavings and of their rich culture. Little did I know then that this carpet would hold years of tears shed, heartbreaking stories and transcendent music, through so many Callanish retreats.
The six bowls are carefully arranged with the gongs at my back, and I pause to welcome the sounds that will come. The doctors are lying on mats, covered with cozy blankets. Maryliz, who is a master of sound and heart, has infused the possibility of these vessels, the wonder of these sounds and the mystery of the vibrations into my being for all the years since we started Callanish. I hope I can make her proud.
To sit in the centre, surrounded by bowls, is a profound experience. Today the deeper notes and gongs call to me. Then I reach for the handheld bowl and use my voice. The vibrations cause me to lose the boundaries of body and sound as I play and sing. I wish my dear palliative physician colleagues peace and rejuvenation. This is hard work we do, working with the dying. I believe the music will help. I return to form, noticing the steady raindrops on the skylight above. The high notes linger in the space until they dissolve.
Then I think of the infamous Callanish breakfast---those warm, buttery, cinnamon baked-with-love oats and I know that I am home. Here. Now. Home.
Daphne Lobb is a palliative care physician in Vancouver who has worked for many years in hospital and home settings. She is committed to helping people find ways to maintain a good quality of life. She is a co-founder of Callanish and has attended every weeklong retreat to date. She recently participated in, and helped to facilitate, the annual Callanish Palliative Physician Writing Retreat at the Brew Creek Centre.