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Interview: 45 Years of Shalom

I started going to Shalom in 1980, and looking back, I can honestly say it was one of the most important decisions of my life.

At 32, I was shut down. After my mother died when I was in high school, I learned to work hard, avoid feeling, and make money. I had done no real inner work.

I first heard about Shalom through an Episcopal priest who suggested my wife might benefit from a retreat. I went as a tag-along, with no idea what I was getting into. Before the retreat, I called Jerry with practical questions. His answer was simple: “Just come. You’ll have a good time.”

Thankfully, I went. Shalom completely changed my life.

Jerry helped me open my heart. It took time, repetition, and showing up. I heard him talk about living with an open heart and knew that was what I wanted. I would leave, forget, return, remember, and repeat that cycle for years. Eventually, it became who I am and the place I return to.

One of the first things Shalom showed me was that I was touch-deprived. My first retreat included sitting on mattresses with twenty people, snuggling, cuddling, hugging, and being deeply human together. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I returned often—at least once a year for the next twenty to twenty-five years—for couples retreats, advanced retreats, work weekends, and trainings. I fell in love with the mountain, the people, and the community. Shalom became family.

Jerry taught me about love, feelings, experimentation, and trusting the process. He also taught me not to overcontrol an airplane—a lesson that applied to my life, too. I had been holding on too tightly and trying to stay safe by staying in control.

Shalom changed how I carried relationships, work, and pain. Through the principles and skills of loving, I learned that I no longer had to see anyone as an enemy. I can let go of toxic dynamics and still wish people well.

When Jerry sold the Mountain to Joy and Lawrence, I continued attending retreats and completed the training Lawrence offered. I led my first Shalom retreat in 2004 and have continued ever since. Later, I completed a four-year Core Energetics certification from 2011 to 2015.

Today I continue this work in Colorado. We hold potluck gatherings, share meals, dance, talk about loving, and keep passing it on. Shalom remains with me, even from many miles away.

Shalom is my spiritual home. It totally changed my life, opened me up, and changed who I am. If asked what the most important thing I have ever done was, I would say: going to Shalom.

Jerry and Elisabeth were my first teachers. Joy, Lawrence, Nance, and the community shaped me deeply, too. Now I am blessed to share this path with my wife, Cynde.

And maybe the greatest thing I can say after all these years is this: I love who I am.

Scribe’s Reflection

As I listened to Craig share his story, I found myself smiling often—because of his humor, the warmth with which he speaks about those who shaped his life, and the moving story of a transformation built through decades of returning.

Craig did not arrive at Shalom looking for a spiritual home. He arrived as a “tag-along,” carrying grief beneath work, success, and self-reliance. What struck me most was how faithfully he kept returning to what he found there.

The teaching that stayed with him for more than forty years was simple: living with an open heart. He heard it, forgot it, remembered it, forgot it again, and eventually became it. There is something profoundly human in that.

I laughed at Jerry’s lesson about flying airplanes, which became a lesson about life: how many of us are still trying to overcontrol the airplane?

What stayed with me most was Craig’s final reflection: “I love who I am.” That may be one of the most beautiful measures of a life well lived—not perfection, achievement, or success, but arriving at gratitude for the person you have become.

Thank you, Craig, for sharing your story, laughter, wisdom, and open heart.

Jennifer Mark, Scribe

Voices That Matter

Storytelling as legacy. Listening as medicine.

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