Ms. Elliott Goes to Washington DC (Again!)
Ms. Elliott Goes to Washington DC (Again!)
By a.d. elliott | Take the Back Roads - Art and Other Odd Adventures
Last weekend, I took the opportunity to attend a religious retreat at the Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. The retreat was hosted by the Hallow App, a prayer app I am, without exaggeration, a complete groupie of. This was Hallow’s very first in-person event, and since it was just down the proverbial road, I thought it would make for a meaningful little adventure.
I even booked a dorm room instead of a hotel, hoping to immerse myself fully in the experience.
I left early Friday morning and arrived in DC just before noon. Still carrying my bags, I went straight to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception before heading to check in. The plan was simple: visit the Basilica, find lunch, check into my room, and rest.
Naturally, the plan unraveled almost immediately.
I noticed a sign for a cafeteria inside the Basilica and wandered around looking for it, only to discover it was closed. I was starving. A security guard kindly directed me toward the nearby neighborhood restaurants, and I ended up at Chipotle before hauling myself and my luggage back to campus. To my surprise, check-in was already open. Perfect. I could finally lie down.
The dorm room itself was… charming. The bed was small enough that I sent a picture to Fish with mild concern, followed by a pep talk directed entirely at myself. It will be fine.
It was not fine.
Thankfully, Fish had already found an open room at a nearby Hilton. I gathered my things yet again and made my way there, relieved, if slightly deflated.
That’s where the trip took a turn.
Because of nerve damage from The Accident, I live with a condition I call “the hollows.” When I’m in too much pain, or too hungry, too tired, or too overheated, the world goes tinny. My vision sharpens and flattens, like old Kodachrome film. Focus becomes difficult. By the time I was on the Metro, I was all four.
I made it to my room and stayed there, missing the evening session on Praying with Music. While I was disappointed, part of me wondered if it was a mercy. Certain pitches still bring tears to my eyes without warning, and that kind of vulnerability in public remains uncomfortable.
Saturday morning, I tried again.
I was determined to hear the speakers, especially Emily Wilson’s talk, The Power of Prayer, and Father Simon’s lecture on Lectio Divina. I returned to campus for brunch, which helped considerably. Emily Wilson was excellent: warm, articulate, grounded. I left inspired and eager to read her book, Go Bravely.
Alex Jones, one of Hallow’s founders, followed, sharing the app’s origin story. I remain deeply grateful it exists. I use it constantly.
Father Frankie Cicero spoke next about Christian meditation, delivering a thoughtful, engaging talk that made difficult ideas feel approachable. (If you’re ever near Mesa, Arizona, Queen of Peace Parish is worth a visit.)
After lunch, during the break for Mass, Adoration, and Confession, everything caught up to me again. I wasn’t able to stay for Father Joe Laramie’s talk on the Examen or Father Simon Esshaki’s lecture on Lectio Divina, both of which I had been very much looking forward to. Being that uncomfortable, alone, in an unfamiliar city, simply wasn’t something I could push through.
Sunday morning, over breakfast, people shared their faith stories, beautiful, hopeful accounts of learning to work with God rather than against Him. When they asked for my story, I realized how unprepared I was.
I know why I converted. I’ve written about it. But my reasons came out of dark places, and much of my life, shaped by trauma and survival, doesn’t fit neatly into a five-minute testimony. I felt sad that I didn’t have something polished to offer, especially since I feel called to speak about how God carries me.
That morning’s session, led by Simone Rizkallah of Cultural Gypsy, focused on habits, and it resonated deeply. I believe habits are what hold us together. Especially when I have “the hollows,” habit is often the only thing that keeps me moving forward. I’ve spent years cultivating them. I even practice keeping a small half-smile, so the world isn’t confronted too abruptly by how much I hurt.
After Mass and lunch, we visited the Saint John Paul II National Shrine. It was a fitting close to the retreat. I returned to the Basilica one last time before heading back to my hotel.
The ride home was contemplative.
There are still things I want to do, places I want to see. But this trip made something clear: I can’t ignore how I feel or try to muscle through discomfort if I want to keep traveling. I need a gentler pace. Better preparation. A smarter day bag. Clothes that serve my body, not just the moment.
The Summit was a gift. Traveling alone was a gift, too. Both reminded me that going forward doesn’t require pushing harder; it requires listening better.
Until the next road.
xoxo,
a.d. elliott
____________________________________________________________________
About the Author
a.d. elliott is a wanderer, photographer, and storyteller traveling through life
She shares her journeys at Take the Back Roads, explores new reads at Rite of Fancy, and highlights U.S. military biographies at Everyday Patriot.
You can also browse her online photography gallery at shop.takethebackroads.com.
✨ #TakeTheBackRoads
Enjoyed this post? Support the adventure by visiting my sponsors, shopping the gallery, or buying me a cup of coffee!
