Believe it or not, the retreatants are leaving their loved ones because of their burning desire to help them.
Sooner or later, we all discover that it's impossible to solve another person's problems and make them happy the way we would like. The most glaring examples are when we love someone with an addiction or eating disorder, but this is also true with people who are depressed, insecure, grieving, pessimistic, etc.
Indeed, no matter how much we love someone and want them to be happy, there is no external way to free them from their own unhappy thoughts. And even if we can cheer someone up temporarily, we can be of no service to them once they die and move on to the next stage.
Every one of the three-year retreatants has realized this on a deep level and has committed their life to finding a true and ultimate way to be of service. Two thousand years of Buddhist scriptures tell us there is a way to truly help others, and that it can be found only in deep meditation. This is the only reason for the retreat.
Retreatant René Miranda's daughter Rachel put it this way:
Over the past few months, the reality of my mother's three-year silent retreat has become more and more distinct. Around me, I am constantly reminded of the pain and suffering that exist in the world. Often times I cry. I feel powerless to stop the pain I see in others around me. I don't know where to start. It seems though, that she has a plan. She is dedicating herself for three years (and much longer) to find the causes for peace.
She wants so badly for the pain and suffering of others to end that she is taking an approach that is both radical and profound. I know that many around me, including members of my own family, do not understand the value of this retreat. I'll admit that at times I get selfish and wish that she could affect change in a way that would not take her away from me for so long.
What am I afraid of? Am I afraid that these three years of her life will be lost? How can it be a loss if her intentions are so pure, so compassionate? Am I afraid that something will happen to her, that she will undergo some great harm? She will be as safe from harm as she ever has been, if not more.
Am I afraid that the mother I know now, will be different from the mother I know after retreat? I have seen my mother grow immensely over the last four years. No change I have seen has been degressive. All the changes I have seen have been for the better. Maybe fear isn't what I am feeling. More than fear though, I am overcome with a feeling of admiration. It's incredible to see my mother undergo one of the most selfless, incredible acts I have ever seen.