Writing Retreat

Or, if you will, a sanity retreat. A recharging of the depleted solar batteries retreat. A restoring of the humor and soul retreat. When I last posted, I’d just begun the cleaning of our downstairs apartment for the arrival of our new neighbor, Jill. That turned into a week-long enterprise, which was crowned at its conclusion by the sudden failure of our wondrous [hah!] Whirlpool Calypso washing machine. (&@^*$^!!) Plus, I’d been writing very little, and all of it sludge.

That pretty much brought me to the end of my rope. Fortunately, salvation was at hand, thanks to my wonderful wife Allysen, who had secretly arranged for me to have three days on Cape Cod, all to myself, in the vacation home of some friends of ours from church. (Thanks, Frank and Deb!) My instructions were simple: Do nothing that I did not want to do. Except rest, and relax by the ocean. That I was required to do, or the deal was off. (I didn’t fight too hard.) If I found energy and inspiration to write, fine. If I did nothing but rest and empty my mind, fine.

Well, who could argue with that? And that’s where I’ve been for the last three days. Yes, I’ve spent a little too much time doing fiddly stuff on my laptop—things that needed doing eventually, but not just now. (Stop that! Breath! Go to the beach!) Well, a couple of afternoons spent floating on my back in the ocean, and watching charming little sandpipers scurry in and out of the waves, has done wonders for my soul. I began to feel the first feather-touches of creativity creep back into my mind. I even began to think of answers to some of the questions I’ve had about book-in-progress! Today, I began to write some new material that has actual promise.

Tomorrow, I head home. But I’m told I have a few more days booked in September. What a gift!

“I write for the same reason I breathe — because if I didn’t, I would die.” —Isaac Asimov