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Beyond A Substitute 49
The sun had mellowed from its morning brilliance, casting a soft amber light over the grove where the next workshop would take place. Tall pine trees ringed the space like silent guardians, their shadows stretching long over the soft, loamy earth. The breeze was gentle and carried the clean scent of bark, wild herbs, and the faint floral notes from a nearby meadow. Wooden benches had been arranged in a large circle, enough for every participant, and the center was marked with a low wooden table stacked with soft, blindfolds and peculiar objects wrapped in cloth—weighted stones, wooden blocks, and small bags of grain. Lunch had been quiet, and reflective, a necessary pause after the emotionally charged Shield Collage. Now, the facilitators stood before the group again, gentle and attentive as always. “Welcome back,” said Juniper, one of the lead facilitators, her tone soft but grounded. “This afternoon is a workshop we call Carry the Burden. Some of you will remember a version of t
Beyond A Substitute 48
The afternoon sunlight broke through the pine trees in soft, golden shafts, slanting through the forest canopy like strands of warmth pulled straight from the sky. After the heavy morning of mirror work—after the silence, the reckoning, the pain of facing their own eyes for far too long—there was something almost sacred in the way the retreat facilitators gently herded the campers across the wooden path and into the next space. It wasn’t one of the regular pavilions this time. This was a different building, tucked behind the main dining hall. From the outside, it looked like an old converted barn, all weathered wood and vines curling up around its sides. But when the double doors creaked open, a surprising wash of color greeted them. Bright rugs were thrown across the floor in a patchwork of blues and reds. Floor cushions were arranged in a wide circle. There were two long tables at the back, cluttered with magazines, newspapers, markers, old buttons, broken jewelry, faded feathers,
Beyond A Substitute 47
It was early, the kind of early that still felt like the tail end of night. The sky outside hadn’t made up its mind yet—somewhere between blue and black, like the world was stretching out of a long sleep but hadn’t rubbed its eyes. There was a light chill in the air that hadn’t been there the day before, and the trees rustled like they were passing secrets down a line. Inside the camp’s main dining lodge, breakfast had a quieter tone than usual. Not somber, but softer. People moved with a stillness, carrying plates of oatmeal, hard-boiled eggs, fresh fruit, and herbal tea like they didn’t want to wake something inside themselves. Conversation was minimal, a few murmured greetings here and there, forks clinking against ceramic bowls. Even the staff, usually bright-eyed and chatty, moved more gently this morning, as if respecting a kind of hush that had descended across the entire retreat. Katherine sat near the far window, a small plate of apple slices and a cup of green tea in fro
Beyond A Substitute 46
The sun was still rising when a bell rang out gently across the campgrounds. A soft breeze rustled the trees as campers made their way toward the open-air breakfast pavilion, the aroma of brewed coffee and toasted granola filling the space. There was a strange kind of buzz in the air—an undercurrent of anticipation. A facilitator clapped lightly for attention. “Good morning, everyone! Just a quick reminder—today is Calling Day. If you’d like to check in with your family, friends, or workplace, the call center will be open all day. You can also stop by to find out if anyone left you a voice message. If there’s something waiting for you, it’ll be played in your private booth.” Around the pavilion, heads nodded, and conversations stirred. Katherine poked at her fruit bowl, quietly listening. Carolina glanced at her. “You going to call anyone?” Carolina asked. Katherine shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t tell many people I was coming. Just Jordan.” Carolina arched a brow. “Jordan, h
Beyond A Substitute 45
The breakfast hall buzzed with soft chatter, spoons clinking against ceramic bowls, the occasional yawn slipping through conversation. Morning light filtered through the open windows, golden and gentle, cutting across long wooden tables where campers gathered in mismatched sweatshirts and socks. Katherine sat beside Carolina, nursing a cup of green tea she hadn’t quite decided to drink. Across the hall, Kingsley sat two tables away, not looking at her—but she could feel his presence like a warm pull in her chest. Just then, one of the facilitators stepped up onto the little wooden platform near the front. She clapped once, sharp and light. “Good morning, everyone,” she said with a smile. “Quick announcement before the next activity.” The room quieted. “If you have a message you’d like to send to your family or friends,” she continued, “tomorrow is our official Calling Day. You’re welcome to come by the call center any time after breakfast. You can make a voice message or lea
Beyond A Substitute 44
They were told to meet by the trailhead after lunch. A long path carved into the woods had been marked with ribbons, and the staff guided them forward in silence, their footsteps crunching against damp leaves and soft earth. The air was cooler under the trees, thick with the scent of moss, bark, and something old—something ancient. Katherine breathed it in deeply as she walked beside Carolina, who was unusually quiet. Kingsley walked a few paces behind them. Devon was up ahead. No one was talking. It felt like the forest itself had hushed them. When they arrived at the wide-open space beneath a massive canopy of branches, the facilitator stepped forward. She was barefoot, standing confidently in the grass, with wind teasing her hair and sunlight falling in pieces through the leaves. “Welcome,” she said gently. “This is a release ceremony. A very special part of your journey, Today,” one of the facilitators said gently, “you are going to scream.” A few participants laughed awkw
Beyond A Substitute 43
The morning air was cool and clean, scented faintly with dew-soaked grass and eucalyptus from the grove behind the cabins. A soft breeze swept through the camp, stirring tree branches and tugging gently at the hem of Katherine’s hoodie as she stepped outside. Her tea was warm in her hands, but her thoughts still lingered on the conversation from the night before. Kingsley’s voice echoed faintly in her memory—“I just want to help you get that woman back…” She exhaled slowly. The sound of a distant bell rang through the air. Not the urgent clang of the scavenger hunt siren, but a gentler chime—soft and slow. It was the camp’s way of signaling the start of morning yoga. “Please no,” came Carolina’s sleepy voice from behind as she dragged herself out of their cabin in oversized sweats. “Tell me that bell doesn’t mean yoga. Tell me it means breakfast in bed.” Katherine chuckled. “It means downward dog in the field.” Carolina groaned dramatically, already stretching her arms o
Beyond A Substitute 42
The sun had begun to settle into a warm amber glow as Carolina returned from her picnic, her face flushed—not just from the sun, but from something else entirely. She pushed open the cabin door, and Katherine sat up immediately from her bed where she’d been flipping through a wellness brochure without really reading it. Katherine grinned wide. “Girl, tell me everything. Don’t even act like nothing happened. What went down at Willow Lake?” Carolina paused at the door, biting her lip, cheeks blooming a deep pink. “Oh. My. God.” Katherine sat all the way up. “Why are you blushing like that? Talk!” Carolina laughed, shy and giddy, and walked to the bed opposite Katherine’s, sitting down with her legs crossed under her. “We… kissed.” Katherine’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you kissed?!” Carolina threw her head back with a groan and then nodded, laughing. “We kissed. I know—it’s wild. But it just… happened.” “Girl!” Katherine slapped a pillow. “Start from the beginning. Do
Beyond A Substitute 41
The sun sat high in the sky, warm but softened by the light breeze rolling off the forest. It was early afternoon, and the camp staff had just finished explaining the rules for the next group activity—The Tube Hunt. A simple game, but competitive enough to stir excitement. Somewhere within a wide section of the woods, dozens of colored plastic tubes had been hidden, each one containing a folded strip of paper with a simple task or reflective question written inside. The team that found the most by the end of the allotted time would win something vague and mysterious: “a special surprise,” as one of the staffers had said with a mischievous grin. Everyone was to be paired up. The names had already been randomly drawn and written on a laminated list, which the facilitator now read aloud. “Devon and Carolina.” Carolina blinked, then shrugged, shooting a quick look at Katherine as if to say well, this should be interesting. “Kingsley and Katherine.” There was a pause—only a sec
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