Reflections on the 2025 SDI Conference
As a fairly new spiritual director, I was excited to attend the 2025 annual Spiritual Directors International (SDI) conference in Niagara Falls, New York. I only knew one other person planning to attend, whom I had only met virtually. I was eager yet didn't know what to expect.
Sitting on my flight toward Buffalo, I set an intention to be open to new experiences with a gentle heart and mind. I hoped to interact with other conference attendees by practicing deep listening, and, when appropriate, sharing my views.
Each day, I found myself surrounded by kind, openhearted souls—many whom I wouldn’t normally get a chance to interact with—which proved refreshing. The conference went by so fast. I wished it had been a full week. After it ended, as I waited to board my flight back to Brussels, Belgium, I opened my notebook and asked myself: “How can I describe my experience during these three incredible days?”
Once I lifted my pen, a succession of words tumbled onto the page: friendly, well organized, caring, supportive, nurturing, nourishing, enriching, exciting, grounding, blessed, tears, movement of spirit, soul encounters, uplifting, sharing experiences, LGBTQ+ friendly, educators, global, board members, first-timers, community.
I smiled and thought, “This is a lovely list, but it’s not an article.” I wanted to write an informative piece to provide insight to SDI members, and future conference first timers, about the many things I’d just learned. But first, I needed more reflection.
Now that I’m back in Belgium, I’ve had a chance to reflect further. I’ve decided to focus on a personal anecdote that highlights a special experience I had at the conference.
When I chose to participate in Forest Bathing (Shinrin-yoku in Japanese), I thought it would be nothing new, since I’d spent six years researching human lifestyle and sensitivity towards nature from a religious perspective in Japan. However, studying theoretical and philosophical observations in classrooms, libraries, and dusty book passages is hardly equivalent to going outside to practice with a professional in the field. Soon I would find out how Forest Bathing nourishes my soul. In our relatively small group, it allowed me to absorb nature’s gifts through humble reflection and stillness.
After a brief introduction, and the opportunity to exchange meaningful observations in pairs, Jeanette Banashak, EdD, PhD, our friendly guide and director of the Spiritual Guidance Training Institute, led us under a large tree for contemplation. When she asked us to approach the Niagara River, she invited us to call on our senses to be present to nature, to feel it—as it surrounded us, sustaining each cell in our bodies. I cannot recall the exact terminology she used, since I was trying to feel without jotting down notes. Let’s just say the sensory experience rendered the outdoor exercise more memorable—and pleasurable.
At one point, Jeanette invited us to stand still and concentrate on the sounds that our ears took in. When I shut my eyes, I listened to the powerful Niagara River roaring past us. Its rush filled me with tremendous excitement and awe.
To add an extra thrill, just as my ears tuned into a palpable presence of Mother Nature, I felt something scratchy land on my chest. Startled, I glanced down. A spider had plunged from a tree branch above—into my open blouse! I suppressed a scream, to not to disturb the others, and nearly tossed the tiny beast into the whitecaps.
Then I took a breath and realized I was reacting, instead of responding. Where was my sense of equanimity? I had been trying to incorporate the practice of equanimity for years: accepting persons, situations, and changes as they come, trying not to judge them, keeping an open, curious mind, even if at first, these circumstances seemed exceedingly good, or bad. I knew how important it was to maintain this balance while facing new experiences—yet knowing when it was time to respond, and act, if needed, to preserve the safety and health of all living entities... including our planet.
So, I took another deep breath, and peered at the spider again, perched over my heart. Suddenly, I recalled my Buddhist training in Japan, and my research about how all sentient beings were important in nature, even the tiniest of insects. Thus, I abandoned my knee-jerk instincts and gently plucked the insect from my chest. Allowing it to crawl over my index finger, I gracefully set it on the ground, like a living treasure.
Since everyone’s eyes were still shut, I dropped my eyelids. But somehow, I still felt the spider’s delicate legs tickling my skin. Its presence also tickled my mind. Questions surfaced: “What significance does this spider have in my life, right now? What does this even mean?”
When I decided to try Forest Bathing, and again, when I first shut my eyes to listen to the sounds of the river, I had asked for a sign from the Divine to guide me down the right path, to help me find new opportunities as an interfaith spiritual care provider. Even though I am based in Belgium, like many of us around the world, I felt shaken up by the recent political decisions and actions in the United States; I felt uncharacteristically unsettled.
Thus, I took solace in the spider’s message. I accepted it as a sign from above, a not-so-subtle hint from Mother Nature. “It’s a reminder to be gentler with myself, and with others,” I mused. “To remember what I was taught as a kid: to be gentle with all beings who inhabit this earth, and not only humans.”
Those three days taught me so much about how full and rewarding the art of spiritual direction and spiritual companionship can be. About how it is a calling for many of us. The conference reminded me of the importance of connecting with others, sharing meals, taking time for reflection, meditation, prayer, lone walks along the river, singing, laughing, and journaling. When I picture these wholesome practices, what comes to mind is: “It’s all good.”
Those seventy-two hours were busy yet fulfilling. Now that I am back in Belgium, I’m taking my time to recuperate. Because I consider myself a halfie: half introvert, half extrovert, I get energized around people, but I also cherish my alone time. Many spiritual directors and companions like to reflect, and inwardly process, what goes on around us. Writing has always been a natural way for me to digest novel experiences and information; describing my time at the conference has helped me reflect on what nourished me.
Incidentally, since 2025 is the 35th celebration of SDI’s existence, conference participants were invited to make donations to help SDI continue to offer free courses, webinars, and discounted rates to its members. After making a humble donation, I came away with an SDI mug, which I’m drinking my coffee in right now.
That mug was a perk, but the best part of the conference was meeting everyone. It was great to finally meet SDI’s hardworking and friendly staff, along with its enthusiastic board members. I even met Rev. SeiFu on the last day, when some of us decided to form a community of SDI members living in Europe. What a surprise to discover that he’s originally from Belgium! I enjoyed a brief conversation with him in French about Brussels, which made me feel even more welcome. Incredibly, I only knew one person when I arrived in Niagara Falls, but by the time I left, I felt like I’d made numerous friends.
I would love to share more anecdotes about this year’s conference. To describe my overall experience, I felt it was a sacred, intentional space to come together, listen, share, create memories, make plans, broaden our horizons (extend and integrate our spiritual lenses beyond the field), worship, pray, meditate, listen to the roaring Falls, walk in the drizzling rain, and witness moments of grace.
Indeed, I felt many moments of grace, and a further understanding of Divine wisdom, as I practiced the Examen with Rev. James Martin, and did Rabbi Dr. Tirzah Firestone’s deep exercise, which moved me to tears. I appreciated the words of all the other keynote speakers—in person and on the large screen. Likewise, the song “Hope” had tears flowing down my cheeks, and I was touched by the gentle guidance of the many spiritual leaders. I will always remember the conversations, hugs, handshakes, and smiles from people with whom I felt a connection, although we’d just met.
On the last day, when some of us were singing between sessions, with Simon’s divine music and his guitar, tears again filled my eyes. One person at a time entered the center of our small circle, to receive blessings. When it was my turn, my soul was aching. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community during these disconcerting times in the USA and abroad, I felt the power and presence of all around me, supporting me, lifting my soul. More tears of relief, mutual understanding, acceptance, and joy sprung forth. So did hope. Thank you, SDI, and all the conference sponsors, especially the Fetzer Institute, and speakers, in person and online, and the SDI community, for this incredible experience at Niagara Falls.
If you are a spiritual director or companion and hesitating about attending next year’s conference, hesitate no more. This experience helped me build a new, strong network of fellow spiritual care providers. Dare to climb out of your shell and see what wonders lay ahead. As Sara Critchfield from the Fetzer Institute so eloquently said in her keynote speech, “We are the subversives…” And I believe we ourselves are acts of resistance. Just like the sticker I saw at one of the booths that proclaimed: “Theological Education is Resistance.” (Lancaster Theological Seminary and Moravian Seminary.) It’s so true: time to spiritually integrate, and resist, beyond the field.
On my last morning in Niagara Falls, before I left for the airport, I spotted a squirrel in the grass. It spotted me, too, and waved its tail, as if to say “goodbye,” before scurrying up a tree. I burst into laughter—spontaneous joy, sparked by nature at its finest. I was on my cell phone, speaking with a close friend in Belgium. We were despairing about the political situation that is so divided right now in the USA, and how things looked bleak for marginalized communities, including ours. We had already discussed the ongoing wars, how destructive they were, and our hopes for world peace.
Just then, before we hung up, I glanced one last time at the Niagara River… and spotted a rainbow. A God-inspired sign of peace and reconciliation. Its presence brought me hope—a reminder that even in the most challenging times, gifts like rainbows grace us. Divine light continues to bathe us, spreading its warmth over our lands and rivers, healing our wounds, even if we don’t always perceive it.