I used to go regularly every summer to a Pagan retreat. It was about 700–900 people camping. If the workshops, rituals, and interpersonal connections/drama weren’t “growth experiences,” trying to do it all in 95–100°F weather with a quarter-mile hike to do anything were. Plus, broiling porta-potties.
It was this recurrent Solstice week where I learned so much. I got to sit quietly in nature, to dance to a huge drum circle beating out a pounding rhythm, to learn how to endure some things that aren’t normally endured every other week. Plus, it later showed me how I’d move past who I was, and into a-theism. The last time I went, it was also my honeymoon.
I used to go every year; I’ve missed two of the last three. Hopefully I’ll get to go again someday.