It’s the second morning of my third TREEWEEK. I have gone on this retreat, happening at the end of September, for the past two years as well. Both times I wrote a recap post after the event. Last night I felt inspired to write something during the event as well, which is what I’m doing now.

Arriving at Blaue Blume felt like coming home. I entered the venue through the front door, heard someone playing the piano and a woman’s voice singing from the room in the back, and immediately felt I was in the right place. I saw many familiar faces, many new faces, and at least one person that I had met online but never in person. In the first one and a half days of TREEWEEK, I participated in interesting conversations, played games, and jammed with other musicians. I had also already helped in the scullery and put on my playlist to bring a good mood to washing dishes. And I spent some time in the co-working space doing work.

Last night, however, when I felt tired and went to bed, I was somehow filled with a feeling of sadness. Except for meeting the new people coming to the event, everything felt too familiar. It felt like a mismatch between expectations and reality. Before writing this post (but after deciding to write it), I read both previous accounts and noticed a pattern of what I’m noticing now. It’s like I’m waiting for something special, something transformative, to happen during the week. Something that will give me a totally new and life-changing perspective. Based on the experience of the first two days, I have the expectation that it won’t happen this year either, even though there are more than five days left.

At least one part of it is completely outside the control of TREEWEEK, its organizers, or participants. I was planning to use a lot of time for myself, for writing and for figuring stuff out. Yesterday’s client meeting made me realize that I will probably spend much of the personal, non-socializing time this week in client work. It likely could’ve been avoided with better time management in the previous weeks, but that would have involved trade-offs I wasn’t willing to make. I hope to get at least some writing time, and the first session has produced this very piece you’re reading right now.

To be fair, even another major part is only on me and not the responsibility of TREEWEEK. I’m reminded of other conversations and attempts at (peer) coaching I’ve had in the past. I might say that I’m looking for some sort of transformation or change, but I don’t think I’m receptive to it, mostly because I’m unwilling to leave things behind or question some of my fundamental beliefs.

Simon, the organizer of TREEWEEK, invited us all to bring our “main character energy”, the motto of this year’s event. Am I bringing enough of it? Could I be more agentic and make my third retreat special, distinctive, and an upgraded version of the experience from the previous two years? What would it even mean? And even if I have an idea about it, would I be comfortable expressing it, or are my desires attached to shame?

I don’t know what will happen and what the answers to the previous questions are, but it felt good to write this down on the second morning of my third TREEWEEK.