You’ve probably heard the expression, “Other people are a mirror of you.” Could a statue be a mirror too? The statue at Pat’s house has been one for me.

The first time I came to an all-day silent retreat at my teacher, Pat’s, I was excited. A whole day off from having to do anything or take care of anyone or interact with anyone…a Mom introvert’s dream, right?!? When I sat for the first sit, it hit me. Ohhhhh…I have to sit with myself all day. This isn’t going to be easy or fun. It wasn’t going to be the “vacation” I had longed for.

I walked outside during one of the breaks and saw a statue in the corner…the one where she is laying one side of her head on folded hands on one knee. To my surprise, the statue communicated with me. To me, she looked disgusted. Like she was saying, “I’m just going to wait over here while you go through this dark-night-of-the-soul crap; just let me know when you’re finished with that mess in your head.” That was a hard day for me.

The next time I came for an all-day meditation sit (why did I come back?!?!), I walked by the statue, and she looked completely exhausted. Worn down. Tired to the bone. Which was, of course, exactly how I was feeling. Tired of fighting life. Tired of fighting myself. Wanting to let go. But completely stuck in the ring, getting pummeled and refusing to go down for the count. The pain was real.

The next time I came to Pat’s, I had an expectation that the statue would communicate something to me. I tried to imagine what it could be. My mind came up with lots of theories. And it also worried that nothing would be communicated. Maybe I just made up the first two times anyway.

Her communication was clear. She was listening. Simply listening. And I was learning to listen too. How could I have not seen it before?

Could the same statue possibly have anything else to tell me? She was a statue and didn’t change, right? How could she look so different each time I saw her?

The next time I was completely blown away. She looked peaceful. How could I see peace when I didn’t feel peace inside? I even told my husband when I came home and he agreed when I said, “I don’t consider myself a particularly peaceful person.” But I had hope. I had grown and learned so much and could feel the hope of peace within me if I could just let go of the identity that I was a mess inside. Over the years I’ve been slowly coming out of dark-night-of-the-soul (2 steps forward, 1 step back), and I could finally begin to experience the peace I saw in the statue.

I came to the most recent November all-day silent meditation sit. I was hoping to have a spot near the statue, or at least on the grass. Nope…smack dab in the middle of the pool deck. Of course, my mind had a field day with that – “How can I have a good day of meditation sitting on the pool deck and not where I wanted to sit?” But I’ve been through enough over the years that I could affectionately laugh at that silly voice in my head. And so I sat.

During the first break I went to the statue in the corner. Surely, she had something new to communicate to me. Nothing. At first, I was excited. “I’ve transcended into enlightenment and the void of nothingness and I’ll never have any problems ever again!” But, like I said, I’ve been through enough over the years to be able to even laugh at that voice in my head too.

So I sat. And during the second sit, I cocked my head a little and saw a statue near the house that I didn’t remember seeing before. She was a bit hidden by a bush, but if I leaned my head, I could see her. I saw joy. She was happy! This blew me away even more than seeing peace. If you ask me which emotion I have the hardest time with I’ll probably tell you anger or sadness. But honestly, it’s probably joy. That’s an emotion that always seems to be elusive for me. But I saw it in her clear as day. And during the next break I went to the statue in the corner. And she was smiling too. She was filled with joy. Not acceptance or contentment. Actual joy. How did I not see it before? Was it finally going to be time for me to feel joy too?

Since that November sit, I’ve had the usual ups and downs of life. But I’m starting to open to joy. An inner joy that has nothing to do with what I’m doing or what is going on around me. It’s an inner sparkle and vibration of aliveness, like my cells are dancing with joy. I’m laughing more, and not as serious as I typically can be. It’s not a drastic shift, and at the same time it’s a complete game changer. I’m grateful to experience true inner joy.

And I’m grateful for the opportunity to sit in silent meditation. And to Pat for leading us, opening her home to us, sharing her statue with me, and creating a container for all of us to do the inner work so that we can experience the joy of being alive in this present moment together.