Finally Friday Week 8: Coming Out of Retreat

"I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude."—Henry David Thoreau


Going off on a solo writing retreat is one thing. Coming out of it is quite another. I arrived to my family's lake house last Saturday afternoon, unloaded my stuff, opened the shades and then just sat there in complete silence staring out at the lake.

It takes some time to decompress. It takes time to let go of all things that push and pull me in the city. So many things to do.

Sitting there in silence, I felt a bit uncomfortable at first. What had I committed myself to? Is this what I really wanted to do? The silence was deafening at times. My ears strained to hear anything.

I heard the hum of the refrigerator.

I stepped outside on the deck and heard the hoo hoo of an owl in the distance. I looked up and saw an eagle. Pine tree branches swayed in the light breeze. 

I made myself a little dinner—stir fried kale and mushrooms with a fried egg on top and then went out on the deck to eat it. Out to the left, I spotted the neighbors paddle boat and took it out alone on the lake. I hummed to myself and sat there alone in the middle of the lake until the sun went down. Ducks flew disturbing the glass surface of the lake. I sat there all alone and quiet. I heard frogs.

The week went by much the same, but then I got absorbed in book writing. I would wake up, eat, take a walk and then write for 8-10 hours per day. I was completely absorbed in my next book. I sometimes became so absorbed that I forgot what day or time it was, forgot to eat lunch or dinner, forgot there was a world out there. 

On about day 5, I started to get a bit of cabin fever. Too many long days of writing. Was I going mad? Was this what happened to the best of writers?

I was supposed to pick up my husband from the ferry dock. He was coming out for a night. He'd be coming in on the 11:30pm ferry and I left at 6:30pm—a bit too early. Obviously, I was ready to get out. 

Grocery shopping was an adventure. I walked down every single aisle just staring at all the goods. But even after shopping and getting gas, I still had three hours to kill. I called my husband and he suggested I wait at Anthony's on the pier. So, I took myself out to dinner. It was really nice.

Near the end of the week, writerly friends came out to the lake, making my transition back to the civilization a bit smoother. I was so grateful to have time to really WRITE. I didn't check Facebook or waste time. I got right to writing. It felt good knowing that that was my only job out there for several days.

Now I'm back in the city and moving as slow as I did at the lake. I'm slow to clean, to shop, to get to this blog. 

But here I am. It's good to be back, actually. It was good to pare things down to only the essentials. I think life can often get muddled with things that aren't important. I'm trying to keep those things that are important close to me and let go of the rest.

Have you ever been on a retreat. How did you feel coming out of it?

Perfection is in the Eye of the Beholder

Reading outside in the sun today!

"An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's."—J. D. Salinger

I watched a documentary on J.D. Salinger on Amazon Prime, which I get free with my Amazon Prime membership. I've been watching lots of documentaries lately, especially about authors.

J.D. Salinger was a recluse. He lived in his own world and did things his own way. On the outside it might have seemed crazy, but to him perhaps it was perfection.

I had never read The Catcher in the Rye. It was never required reading for me in high school or college, even though I studied literature/writing in college. Suddenly, after seeing this documentary, I had to read it. I immediately ordered myself a copy of The Catcher in the Rye from Amazon.

It was a tiny paperback book with the title in a 50s-looking font. It had an orange cover with a carousel horse on it.

At first, it was hard to read and I couldn't understand for the life of me why this book was a sensation. Every other word in the book was goddam. But then something happened. I let go of my ideas of what this book should be and entered the scene. I went for a ride with this author. I was part of the story.

For the last few days, I could not put the book down. It was a coming of age story of Holden Caulfield. Nothing was going right for him. He got kicked out of school, he got beat up, he didn't fit in, but he could only be and think who he was at that time. He definitely could not pretend to be anyone else. In fact, the entire book was a comment on how people in society, at that time, were just pretending or acting out their parts. The word phony was used dozens of times.

Yesterday I had so much to do, but I didn't do anything I was supposed to do.

I pulled two chairs together and made a makeshift lawn chair. I got myself a drink from the kitchen and I sat in the front yard in the sun for two entire hours reading The Catcher in the Rye. 

I forgot where I was.

I forgot who I was.

I forgot I had things to do.

A good book will do that to you.

Finally, I pulled myself together. I got my wits about me and got to work and taught my classes and it went really well.

But I wouldn't have done it differently. It was perfect. A perfect afternoon in the sun with an excellent book that took me awhile to warm up to.

It made me want to read more and write more. So here I am.

Have you read a book recently that made you feel good, made you think or made you change your mind about something? What was it?