Pat Taub
This past weekend I attended the memorial service for Connie Chandler Ward, one of the founders of Greenfire, a women’s spiritual retreat center in Tenants Harbor, Maine. Connie, a former Wellesley chaplain had been a spiritual mentor to me and many others. As I rushed out the door I stuffed a packet of travel-sized Kleenex in my purse, for the tears I anticipated, but a whole other area of loss took me my surprise.
Glancing around the country Baptist Church overflowing with Connie’s friends and family I noticed women I hadn’t seen in over a decade who were part of my connection to Connie. I met Connie in the summer of 2003 when I was living in Portland with a man who had become increasingly detached and verbally abusive. In a mad search for support to end my relationship once and for all I googled “women’s spiritual retreat centers.” Greenfire in Tenants Harbor popped right up.
Connie at her 80th Birthday Party
Greenfire advertised Sunday services open to the public. I made the two-hour drive to Greenfire that Sunday, landing on a peninsula sprinkled with modest hundred-year-old homes and new imposing summer residences. Greenfire was housed in a rambling nineteenth century farmhouse.
The Sunday service took place in the “great room,” a comfortable open space with a beautiful altar positioned on a coffee table adorned with a silk Indian cloth, a vase of summer flowers, stones from a nearby beach and a graceful piece of driftwood. I immediately felt at home.
The beautiful Tenants Harbor peninsula that was home to Greenfire
I was warmly welcomed into the circle of women with whom I meditated and listened to a Buddhist-themed talk. After the service I was encouraged to visit whenever I could. A few weeks later I signed on for a Greenfire “conversation,” a format where a visitor meets with two Greenfire staff for help with a personal problem. Connie and Judith, two of the three founders of Greenfire, gently guided me in formulating a plan for ending my troubled relationship.
A Women’s Spiritual Circle similar to those held at Greenfire
A year later I moved to Tenants Harbor, joining Greenfire as volunteer staff where I attended weekly staff meetings, took my turn as sous chef, arranged flowers in the tiny guest rooms, wrote articles for the monthly newsletter and helped lead a few retreats.
While Connie’s spiritual guidance stands out, the entire Greenfire community were instrumental in my spiritual and personal evolution. Many of these women were at Connie’s memorial service, awakening cherished memories.
There was Judith whose steady, warm presence enveloped me like a soft blanket; quirky Deborah with whom I shared favorite books; Joan, whose twinkly eyes invited me to joke with her; Janet, a wonderful writer with whom I exchanged writing; and Adelaide, still a force at 92 who inspired me with her disciplined life of exercise, meditation and healthy eating.
Connie surrounded by Greenfire alumni on her 8oth birthday.
Seeing these women again created a longing for a community of lively spiritual women. I hadn’t realized how much I missed all of them and the gifts they gave me. Driving home I cried for Connie and for this community I lost after Greenfire closed in 2007 and after I moved to Portland in 2011.
I’m not without spiritual connections but my life isn’t the same without the stimulating conversations and laughter at the Greenfire dinner table, the solace provided by the Sunday services and fun-filled celebrations honoring birthdays and other milestones.
A women’s spiritual circle reminiscent of Greenfire where my beliefs were frequently challenged!
I can’t bring back Connie or the Greenfire community. They’re in the past. In the present I can belabor what I no longer have or I can move on. Connie didn’t have much patience for self-pity. She was all about taking charge of one’s life, accepting what you have and making the best of it.
She might advise me to use my Greenfire void to deepen my contemplative practice. This is sound advice but I want to keep alive my dream to gather a few women for my own mini-Greenfire. Stay tuned . . .
