Awakin Retreat: A Symphony of Noble Friends
We began with a sacred invocation in a circle of stones surrounded by redwoods. Leaders, seekers, and servants from around the world sat shoulder to shoulder, and the invitation was simple: to listen, to serve, to discover what might emerge.
This retreat had its seeds long ago. For many years, Rev. Heng Sure and Nipun Mehta have had the aspiration for a gathering centered on the Bodhisattva path. That wish finally found expression here—not as a plan executed, but as a field of affinity ripening. In the monastery, we often say, “We talk about the Bodhisattva path, but ServiceSpace walks the Bodhisattva path.” That is why the resonance runs so deep: the Bodhisattva way is an infinite path of service, and this retreat was one step into this field.
Opening the Field
On the first evening, Rev. Heng Sure asked us to reflect on our potential—not the potential of individual achievement, but the shared potential of beings who are profoundly connected. The Bodhisattva path calls us to infinite compassion and profound wisdom, and to awaken to who we truly are in service of that potential.
From there, the retreat unfolded along the arc of me, we, and us. The questions at the heart of the retreat were simple yet penetrating:
What perplexes you about the world today?
Where are the acupuncture points for regenerative compassion?
These questions turned us toward the places we often avoid—the knots of confusion and uncertainty—and invited us to linger there together.
The “Me” of Compassion
Richie Davidson, a pioneer in neuroscience and mindfulness, reminded us that compassion is not foreign to us. It is in our wiring. He shared research showing how infants instinctively gravitate toward kindness. Cynthia followed with an embodied qigong practice, helping us sense how our well-being flows through our own energy field and into those around us. Compassion begins as something intimate and bodily that connects with those around us.
The “We” of Connection
Vanessa Andreotti widened the frame, pointing out how much of our modern world rests on separation: the language of subject and object, the habit of putting ourselves or others on pedestals only to look down from them. That model is dying, she said, because endless growth and exploitation are no longer sustainable. What is needed now is a shift toward subject–subject relations: wholeness meeting wholeness, life meeting life.
After her words, Rabbi Ariel Berger sang from his tradition. A melody of grief, repeated until it turned, almost imperceptibly, into joy. It was not a concept but a frequency: grief held until it transformed. That evening closed with a silent dinner, where serving and being served dissolved into one community, one body, one shared act of reverence.
The “Us” of Belonging
As the retreat deepened, the circle widened. Community night at Camp Harmon brought together 200 people in music, skits, and stories. Three snapshots: Brian Conroy opening the night with us all connecting like redwood trees; Rebecca Henderson sharing how her late husband taught her what it meant to be truly in service; the performance of Sweep Clean, a song born from learning from a street sweeper in India. Wisdom is everywhere, if we are willing to see it.
Brian Conroy encouraging us all to connect like the redwoods.
The closing ritual of Three Steps and a Bow grounded the retreat in humility. With every three steps, we bowed to the earth, to ancestors, to visible and invisible kin. We remembered that “us” is not only this circle of participants, but also past and future generations, the redwoods around us, the living ecosystems that sustain us.
A Gathering of Noble Friends
Looking back, the retreat was less an event than a gathering of noble friends. We listened deeply. We laughed together. We discovered resonance in the midst of difference. We asked for guidance from the redwoods. The work was not to fix the world, but to attend to it with presence, authenticity, and care.
How the ripples of this retreat will move outward is unknown. Already, conversations are opening about future gatherings, collaborations on compassion and AI, and projects that bridge inner and outer transformation. Yet the real fruit may be quieter: a widening circle of awakened service, stretching toward infinity like the symbol that held our reflections—suffering giving rise to compassion, and compassion embracing suffering, without end.
