The Perfect Cracked Shell

Wednesday morning’s group activity at the cancer retreat was about looking forward.

In the centre of the table lay a collection of moon snail shells from Haida Gwaii. Each of us chose one in turn. I was last, so it was fate’s hand that the only remaining shell turned out to be the perfect one for me—cracked, and thus different and unique, even if not the most pleasing to the eye.
We were given strips of Japanese paper, each meant to carry a written wish beginning with: “May I trust…”, “May I love…”, “May I find…”, “May I forgive…”. Then we returned to the circle to share some of our words, which would later be rolled tightly and placed inside the shells. Someone called them “Prayers in a shell.” My own “May I…” wishes are shown below.

May I love Sheryl forever,
and may Sheryl find another love.

May the next game level, the boss level,
be a never ending dream.

That evening, gathered around the fireplace, we spoke about the day and how we felt about the retreat. I went first:

“I read earlier in the news that Vancouver will experience a king tide over the next few days. That means big waves washing ashore. It made me think how the days at the retreat have been like the ocean—sometimes big waves, sometimes small ones. Overall, I feel it was worth riding them.”

I don’t regret coming. It allowed me to witness moving stories and raw emotions from wonderful human beings sharing a similar misadventure. While the psychological approach here may not align perfectly with my analytical, cerebral worldview, I can see how it helps others heal.

I had a follow-up conversation with the counsellor, and we agreed that Callanish can’t be everything for everyone—nothing can. I knew the kind of retreat I was coming to, and I chose to attend because I was curious and open to different approaches. This isn’t a place to debate the nature of reality or consciousness; it’s a place to face loss and grief.

She asked me, “Did you come here for healing?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “I wanted to be at peace with dying, and I’ve found that in recent months—by becoming comfortable with the unknown from a scientific perspective, without relying on the supernatural.”

She said she was glad I came, and that there are many ways to feel.