Karla has grown children, all doing well.  She has been married for 31 years.  “It’s not a bad marriage, not exciting or satisfying, but,” she says, “It’s ok.”  She is active in her community garden, with the homeless shelter, and her church.  She has “a small business,” which she identifies as, “on the side.”   She is certainly not bored, but says, “I am so bored with my life.”

I had been seeing Karla in therapy for a few weeks, where we explored if she wanted to increase her business, taking it more seriously.  We explored bringing in her husband to help evolve their marriage from OK to good.  We talked about the empty nest syndrome, looking at her history and her relationship with her parents, her siblings.  Nothing we talked about seemed to be the core of her malaise.  Medical exams showed she was healthy.

That’s when I suggested she attend Unique Retreats for Women.  She didn’t think it would make a difference, but “it would be good to get-away, and, who knows, maybe something would get clearer,” she sighed, with no real expectations.

At the first session, she listened while the other women talked about their issues; she said she had no idea why she was there, but hoped she would leave with some clarity.  The unifying factor in that group was that everyone seemed stuck in some part of their life.

During the last session of the retreat, Karla wore a wide grin.  “I came, perhaps to please Karen, but I really had no hope it would be useful.  I had been feeling so blah for so long.  But, I can’t believe what has happened here.  I not only feel rejuvenated by meeting and sharing with you wonderful women, but I am leaving with a clear idea of what I want to do differently when I get home.  Last night, even though we are discouraged from turning on our blackberries, I did, and found a photography class not far from my home, that even meets at a convenient time.  I registered,” she gloats.  “I had no idea I was even interested in photography, but that exercise we did yesterday morning, opened up a series of ideas and images, and out it fell.  I had totally forgotten as a teenager, my parents pooh-poohed my interest in shooting and refused to buy me a camera.  I’m just so excited.”

Six months later, I get an invitation to her first photo show.  A year later, she’s winning awards and even selling her work.

“Even if I never sold a thing,” she wrote me, “I this is the best thing I have ever done.  It feels like a small hole inside me has been filled.  Nothing really has changed with my husband, but I know I am just far more satisfied with my whole life.”