Midweek Blessing: For the ones who tried to come but were turned away

An Apology and a Blessing.

When the path seems blurry… © Cloister Notes

Dear ones,

This week, something both beautiful and bittersweet happened.

First I learned from the monastery that our Hildegard Spring Retreat this weekend had suffered low enrollment.
It surprised me—because I had seen the steady stream of interest, of you kind people engaging with the invite each time I posted it.

Those of you who have ever led retreats or workshops or conferences know: low enrollment hurts.
One takes it personally.

Why is no one coming?
Is it not a good offering?
Did I do something wrong?
Did we choose the wrong time window?

Yes, Mother’s Day weekend is a full family occasion for many.
But it can also be a lonely weekend for others.

Facing the threat of cancellation—and the few enrolled being sent away empty—I sprang into action.

Perhaps not enough people had seen the invite?
Maybe I needed to be more direct?

So I sent more detailed invitations. I paid for an online campaign.
And again, hundreds of people not only read the invitation—they clicked through to the registration form.

Each click felt like a yes. A small candle lit.

But no one enrolled.

Only when a kindred spirit reached out to me yesterday did I begin to understand why.

I had given people eager to register only one path: an online registration form at the retreat site—
and it may not have matched the open spirit of the invitation.

It asked much of the pilgrim at the door:
Emergency contacts. Two references. A credit card ready.

I hadn’t realized that this may have quietly turned people off—or away.
And I had offered them no other, warmer way to join.

No one would have ever known, were it not for the kind soul who shared her struggle with the form.
All I saw on my end was that after going out to the hedges and byways, pointing people to the door—
nearly everyone disappeared.

And my self-focus and last-minute activism had blinded me from walking the walk, and noticing the obvious.

To walk in the shoes of the pilgrim eager to come.
To see the door from their side.

Then I might have ended up like them—at the only door provided,
which opened into a confusing labyrinth of requests,
ending the journey for some before it could begin.

And yet… four stayed.
Four souls found their way through the tangle.
They did it all. They even brought references to their retreat registration :-)

And because of them, the retreat will happen, dear people.

Persistence overcame the friction in the system.
And one kindred spirit changed the trajectory for many.

It showed me that sometimes, no one is to blame.
And yet something still needs to change.

It reminded me that a single voice can open a way.

So to all who tried to come, but were confused or disheartened by the path to join—
I am truly sorry.

Please try again another time.
And I promise: I will check all the doors.
And make sure you find your way.

And because of that—and because of you—we’ll offer a Hildegard retreat again.
In beautiful September, near her feast day (September 17).
I’ll look for a welcoming venue.
And I’m already looking forward to it.

This blessing is for you.
And for all who have ever stood before a closed door.

A Blessing for the One Who Tried to Come

For the one who tried to enter,
and found instead—a labyrinth—
May you feel seen in your effort,
and not judged by your withdrawal.

For the one who longed to commit,
but was asked to bring more than you could—
May the heart of your longing remain holy.

For the one who came with hope like Moses,
but never got to say, “I’m in”—
May you know: you did enter.
You are still here.
With us.

You are already,
you have always been,
a part of the circle that gathers.
Even from a distance.
Even without a form.
Even now.

—-

This weekend, I will sit with the four who made it through.
And together, we will light a candle
for all the others.

With love, always—
Almut (aka The Weary Pilgrim)

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Question to Ponder

Have you ever mistaken a door for a wall, only to find it opened quietly, just not the way you thought it would?

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“Not all of us can do great things,
but we can do small things with great love.”

Mother Teresa.

*

If the poll does not work for you, you can also just respond to this letter or leave a comment.

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In case you missed it

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Gardening as a practice of “sacred rebellion.”

Praising Spring's greening with Hildegard of Bingen

Unchaining the heart.

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About Cloister Notes

A letter for dancing monks and weary pilgrims at the intersection of psychology, philosophy, and spirituality. Contemplations on being human to deepen your path, nourish your heart, and build wisdom within.​ A resting place along the way—a space for reflection, courage, and hope.​

About The Weary Pilgrim

Almut is a German-American scholar and practitioner of existential wisdom teachings. A psychologist turned philosopher turned writer, she also walks as a traveler, photographer, retreat leader, and mother of a kindergartener. Her work engages with voices like Kierkegaard, Buber, Frankl, Yalom, Edith Stein, Bonhoeffer, and Hildegard of Bingen. A Benedictine Oblate, she lives with her family in a small college town in the American Midwest.​

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