Kori-Coming Home to Love. Again and Again

Coming to Shalom

I first came to Shalom when I was twenty-two years old.

My uncle Doug had gone first, and when he came home, he called me. He was so excited. He kept talking about this place and these people, and he said they reminded him of me. I remember thinking he sounded almost high from the experience.

It was great to hear the energy in his voice as he was sharing, so I delightfully paid close attention.

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went with my Aunt Kim, who is more like a sister and was married to Doug, but somehow we decided to go to this place. I think the week we went was the same time as a Zen Buddhist retreat was happening, and my original call was to go there, but something about “this other place” was calling me. I didn’t know what it was yet, but before I knew it, I was with Kim and on the road to Shalom.

The Arrival

I remember the arrival at the start of Cattail Road. We were both nervous. Were we crazy? What were we doing? We didn’t know, but we were doing it.

We MAY have had an escape plan. We were staying in one of the rooms near the roof, and we joked that if things got weird, we’d give each other a signal, climb out the window, and make our escape. This is before taking the covenant, of course ;).

We ended up staying.

And I am so grateful we did.

A Seeker From the Start

Even at twenty-two, I had already been a seeker for most of my life. Part of that may have come from being diagnosed with cystic fibrosis when I was two months old. I wasn’t expected to live very long. I don’t know if it was because of CF or because of the soul I came here with, but from a young age I was curious about healing, about the body, about my own spirituality, about what it means to be alive.

During that first time at Shalom with Nance and John and our precious group, I found parts of myself I didn’t know were there.

My First Mat Trip

My first mat trip rocked me.

Parts of me were witnessed that I had not yet dared to share. Hurts, longings, my little one who felt left. There was something so powerful, not only daring to bare these parts, but to have them seen in the eyes of love, to be held in some of my most vulnerable places.

I had no idea at that point that there would be so much more to come — in my blossoming, my unfolding, my learning to stand in new ways. I only knew that what happened at Shalom was a powerful experience, and I think I also knew that my life would never be the same.

It wasn’t a magic fix-all, but it was an opening that, with ongoing dedication, would become more openings, more understanding of myself, and a pathway for who I wanted to be in the world.

Returning to My Shalom Home

From that point on, I kept coming back. At least once a year for retreats. Sometimes more, for work weekends, festivals, and even a few holiday celebrations. I started referring to the mountain as my “Shalom Home.”

I did the Intro Training with Vyana and Alistair. I attended retreats on and off the mountain. I found mentors, teachers, friends, and people who would shape my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

Looking back, I often say that I grew up at Shalom.

That might sound strange because I had already grown up fast in certain ways. I faced my own mortality early. Many of my friends died young. Life asked things of me that many people don’t face until much later.

But there was another kind of growing up that happened at Shalom.

An inner growing up. Growing into myself.

The Principles and Skills of Loving

The principles and skills of loving became a kind of guidepost for me. Not because I mastered them. I still work at them every day. But they gave me something to keep returning to.

A way of asking myself how I wanted to be in relationship with others, in relationship with myself, and with life itself.

Healing With Women

One of the biggest gifts Shalom gave me was new possibilities in relationships with women. During my teenage years and into my early adult years, women were scary to me.

Girls had often felt cruel growing up. My relationships with the women around me were complicated. I remember the first time I attended a Women’s Shalom retreat. I was so scared, but I knew it was a growing edge for me, and I wanted to grow. It felt like such a risk.

It ended up being such a healing experience. I remember at one point I was upstairs resting, but I could hear the women downstairs laughing and talking and, well, loving each other, and I remember thinking, “This, this is what loving each other is.” I remember lying there and just smiling. It was enough to even just be there, hearing them, to start to rewire something in my system.

I also remember that during my mat trip that time, I chose to claim my life from under a pile of pillows and who knows what else. It was many years ago, and I can still remember the feeling of hearing the birds and being on the earth after that.

I was held. I fell in love with the women there, but also with myself. I recognized that I was surrounded by strong, beautiful, loving women who welcomed me exactly as I was.

Later, I attended Women’s Festivals and became more involved in the community. Little by little, I began risking being loved by and loving other women in return.

Today, some of the most meaningful female friendships in my life are rooted in what opened in me at Shalom.

Witnessing Men Love Each Other

On that note, it’s also the first place that I witnessed men loving and really being there for each other, and that was incredibly powerful too. It made such an impact on me, seeing what was possible, when it comes down to it, beyond any gender identification, the heart capacity of humans given a safe space with an intention of risking loving.

Leaving the Mountain

When Rick and I moved away eight years ago for medical reasons, I remember leaving Shalom with tears streaming down my face. At the time, I honestly didn’t know if my body would ever be able to make the trip back. I thought I might be saying goodbye forever. That was a really hard thought. Shalom felt like home to me. The thought of never seeing it again broke my heart. Thankfully, life had other plans.

But even when I was far away, Shalom kept living inside me.

Shalom Living Inside Me

I have needed to dig deep to do what it takes to get through multiple long hard treatments and life situations, at points when it would have been easier to give up.

The friendships I have been able to form in our new community here in Colorado reflect what I have learned there. The openness. The honesty. The willingness to truly meet one another. Without Shalom, I’m not sure I would have created those relationships.

The impact has reached into my family, too. Not because everyone suddenly changed. But because I have grown in how I meet them.

Shalom gave me tools and lived experience of being loved, rising up, and loving to help make that possible.

Stepping Into Leadership

Shalom has also become more than a place where I attend retreats.

I completed SRLT. I began co-leading and partnering with others in leadership at Shalom. Rick and I have also led retreats off the mountain.

One of the most meaningful experiences has been helping bring back the Young Adult Retreats.

The first time I stepped into that role, I was a little nervous. Young adults scared me haha. And yet it became such a beautiful full-circle moment.

I thought about the twenty-two-year-old who arrived at Shalom with an escape plan and no idea what she was walking into. I thought about the young woman searching for herself. The young woman carrying grief, questions, fear, curiosity, and hope.

And now I get to sit with others who are standing at similar thresholds. That is such a sacred and beautiful thing to me.

Coming Home to Myself

If I had to describe what Shalom has been in my life, I would say it has been a home, a guidepost, a classroom, a practice ground, and a community that helped me grow into myself. Not perfectly. Not all at once. But steadily. One intentional step at a time. And after all these years, I am still growing. I’m proud of the woman I am. I am still learning. I am still returning.

And maybe that is the greatest gift Shalom has given me: the understanding that growth doesn’t end. Love doesn’t end. The journey doesn’t end. We simply keep coming home to ourselves, again and again.