This weekend Bible Study Fellowship is having its regional conference in downtown Denver, and as I write this I’m sitting in my luxurious room at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Attending the conference isn’t really optional for group leaders, and no, BSF didn’t pay my way. I’m enjoying myself very much and learning a lot. Yesterday afternoon my husband dropped me off at the light rail station and I sat on the train thinking, “This is so much fun! It’s an adventure!” (Honestly, I did think that, or something close to it.) I didn’t come with anyone from our leadership group, and my roommate at the hotel was assigned to me and not someone I know at all. She’s nice and perfectly friendly, but she’s off with her own friends. I came with the attitude that I’d just go with the flow and see who I met up with. Here are some ideas that have occurred to me as the weekend has progressed:
1. They aren’t trying to confuse you.
My lack of anxiety about this and other outings, something that
used to be very much not the case (got that?) stems from a flash of insight that occurred to me years ago when we were on a trip to England. It was a bit worrying to think about how we were going to negotiate our arrival at Heathrow Airport and then make our way by the Tube to the house where we were staying, but then I realized, ‘Hey, they have everything to gain and nothing to lose by being clear and helpful. They’re not going to try to be misleading.’ And I don’t think I’ve ever had another case of an anxiety attack as I’ve worried about how on earth I’d be able to figure out where to go or what to do. And if you get confused, there are always people around who want to help. So relax!
2. Just go for it.
The first event was dinner (always a good start). I went over to the convention center and entered this huge room full of beautifully-set tables. I didn’t see anyone I knew, and indeed I didn’t want to see anyone. I was on my own. Still, though, it can be a bit daunting to just dive in. So I thought, ‘I’m going to look for a table that has just one empty seat left, and I’ll take that.’ Sure enough, as I made my way past the rows of still-empty tables I saw exactly that. “Is this seat taken?” “By you!” one woman said. So I sat. Well! Talk about serendipitous circumstances! We had the most delightful time talking about all sorts of things. And as we got up to go one woman said, “We were saying before you came that we wanted God to send the right person to sit in that seat, and about a minute later you showed up!” So there it is.
3. Know thyself.
I have now done the “look for the one empty seat” thing for breakfast and lunch today and will do so for dinner here in a half hour or so. The result? More delightful conversations. I’ll also look for a space next to people I don’t know at the big wrapup meeting after dinner, something I did last night, too. But guess what? My capacity for such conversations is limited—I’ve decided I’m an extroverted introvert: I like getting into conversations and I enjoy meeting new people, but then I need to go off by myself for awhile. I don’t take energy from people; I lose energy. I need to recharge, and then I’m ready to go again. So I’ve paced myself throughout this retreat, and it has worked very well. There are people standing around talking in that huge lobby right now as I sit here alone, and they’d probably feel a little deprived if they’d just come back to the room. But I’ve been very glad to have this refuge.
Tomorrow at noon it will be all over. I want to savor the time that’s left and not do the weird “only so many meetings left” type of thinking. I’ve tried to be very conscious of the great privilege of being here. Jim’s coming downtown around noon and we’re going to the Home and Garden Show being held in the same building, and then that’s it. We’ll go home, and another landmark event will recede into the past. It’s been helpful to think of this whole thing as an adventure.
But ordinary days are events, too. I have some things to say on that subject, but they will have to wait until next week. Dinner’s calling!
And a small PS, since I didn’t get this posted last night after all:
4. Fulfill your plans.
35 years ago I worked in lower downtown Denver at a Canadian bank. I was going to grad school at night and living in an apartment on Capitol Hill. Some mornings I would stop in at the Larimer Street Market on the way to work and get an almond croissant. Those blue awnings were a marker for a pleasant morning ritual.
We had breakfast provided at the hotel yesterday morning, but today we were going to be on our own. It was suggested that we bring along breakfast items (granola bars, fruit, etc.) or that we could go out for breakfast. ‘I know what I’ll do!’ I thought.’I’ll go to the Market and get a croissant!’ I looked it up online to be sure it was still there, and it was. It was supposed to be raining or snowing this morning, but that didn’t happen. I caught the 16th Street Mall shuttle, got to Larimer Street, and there were those same blue awnings. The same old worn wooden floor. The same classical music playing. Not the same croissant, sadly—they weren’t as good as I remembered. Oh well. The coffee was excellent. (Note to those of you who like your coffee really strong and have a hard time getting it that way on the road: order something called “a shot in the dark,” which is regular coffee with a shot of espresso. Great! Don’t get an “Americano,” which is just watered-down espresso.) I sat there quite happily, eating my breakfast and working on my retreat evaluation form. And then it was time to go. But what a lovely interlude! I was so glad I made the effort.