I sit in my garden with my eyes closed and meditate. I chant,“There are no weeds. There are no weeds”. Yet there are weeds! And if I pretend they are not there, I will not be adequately set up to deal with them. And if I do not see the weeds, I am more likely to blame the vegetables for growing poorly. I sit in a studio with a hundred other people. I am looking out large windows at a mountain view, and find comfort nestled in this mountain valley. It is the start of a retreat, and the participants all sit in a circle awaiting the opening instructions. I feel brave or perhaps naïve or a mix of both. I say this because I have returned to this retreat where I was sexually assaulted a year previously. The retreat organizers dealt with the assault in an appropriate manner and made many changes to their event to increase safety. But still, I am feeling unsure how being here will work out for me...