What I Re-Learned on my Recent Solo Writing Retreat in Oregon

“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”

– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Indeed. And I most certainly do trust myself.

Which is how I knew exactly what I needed from my ten day writing retreat in Florence on the Oregon Coast.

Technically, a writing retreat is really supposed to be just about writing. As in…no other work gets done. Eating, drinking, reading, sleeping & exercise are okay. But workwise, when on a writing retreat, one’s focus really ought to be on just writing. That’s kinda the point of retreating.

Now, when I’ve gone on solo writing retreats in the past, I have generally adhered to this principle…because it makes sense and it works!

This time, however, I had a bit of a different strategy going in. Although I still set clear writing goals for the ten days, as well as for each day, I also gave myself time to tackle other important work tasks…that very much needed to get done.

And I’m pleased to report that I accomplished a heck of a lot of both! My writing sessions in the mornings were productive, insightful and, dare I say, rather sacred in feel. In the afternoons, I switched gears and tackled other business and personal administrative tasks.

I seem to have a rather heavy work load these days…and I don’t think it’s going to lighten up any time soon. And that’s okay. I truly love my work. But on this particular retreat, giving myself all the time in the world to methodically tackle tasks was a gift.

Another gift I gave myself was to look after myself.

I have learned the hard way that taking proper care of my physical health has to be a top priority. If it’s not, I won’t last long. Because writing is so sedentary, I’ve figured out over the years exactly what my body needs to stay healthy and mobile. If you’re interested in learning more about my routine and self-care regime, you can read my blog, “Are You Taking Care of Yourself?”

Right before leaving for Oregon, my massage therapist and dear friend, Renee, gave me a firm reminder to practice what I preach and take proper care of myself…set my timer so I only worked in one-hour sessions, take lots of breaks, eat well, sleep lots, do daily yoga, go for plenty of walks…and enjoy being at one of my favourite places on the planet.

I took her advice.

Another gift I gave myself in Oregon was moving at a significantly slower pace throughout the day…pausing often to ask myself what I needed next? Go for a walk on the beach? Make a cup of tea? Bake cookies? Lie on the couch and read? Post a photo on social media? Stare out the window and listen to the rain on the roof?

Yes, I still worked my way through a good chunk of my mammoth pile of tasks 🙂 but I did so in a significantly slower and perhaps more mindful manner than the speedy gazelle version of me who works at home.

I also paid very close attention to how I was feeling, especially when writing (technically re-writing). As I mentioned in the previous blog, “Beautiful Big Magic Revisited,” I am back working on my A Widow’s Awakening story…which is my personal ground zero. In other words, this isn’t the sort of work one can rush through. Nor is it the type of project one should stay in for too long, at any given time.

My mental health is another top priority. And paying close attention to my thoughts and feelings is how I make sure I stay in the safe zone…and not get stuck or lost in the past – or in my own damn story.

Which brings me to an interesting little adventure I had one afternoon…

To get to the beach from the cottage I was staying at, I had to walk on a path (known as the hobbit trail) that goes through some pretty hardy terrain. There is a boardwalk of sorts – long planks of wood that people have put down over the years – that goes through a sort of swampy area. Then, closer to the dunes, there is a very wooded area that’s fairly dark to walk through, even in bright sunlight.

Then, after emerging from that part of the trail, I hit sand…but I still had to climb over several good-sized dunes before arriving at the beach. And then voila! I’d climb up the last dune and there’s the pounding surf of the ocean…and a huge sandy beach.

I’ve been coming to this cottage for years, so I know my way to and from the beach…and after walking on the beach, I know how to tell where the heck to get off the beach again! This isn’t as easy it sounds – because when you’re on the beach, looking at the dunes, it is really tricky to tell where your particular pathway is…your exit point.

In other words, it’s really important – before walking on the beach – to take note of some sort of landmark for your dune re-entry…because if you don’t, when you come back, all the dunes will look the same.

I know all this. I’ve learned it the hard way in the past. More than once.

This time around, this is what my landmark looked like:

Yup…a “Y.” I didn’t stick that Y-shaped branch in the sand. It was there on the first day I went to the beach – put there by someone else. We all know the importance of a marker!

And yet, guess what happened last week?

Yup. I still got lost!

One afternoon, I went to the beach much later than usual. And once I got to the beach, instead of turning left like I always do, I turned right and walked down the beach that way for awhile.

After a fairly short walk, because it was later in the day, I turned around again and walked back down the beach. But for some reason, I could NOT find my dune re-entry point. Maybe the light was different? Maybe I wasn’t paying close enough attention? Maybe my usual landmark looked different since I was coming from a different direction? Or maybe my “Y” landmark wasn’t even there anymore?

Or maybe it was a combination of all these things?

Whatever the reason, for the life of me, I could NOT find my damn dune re-entry point! The sun was getting lower in the sky. And I didn’t have any shoes on! I was barefoot. I’d left my runners on the dune…the one I couldn’t find.

And so, I made a bit of an odd decision – possibly because I was starting to panic a little. I decided I would go into the dunes and see if I could climb a dune that was high enough for me to hopefully see the big blue house that was fairly near my hobbit trail. Then I would at least know which direction to go.

That didn’t work…and now I was lost in the dunes. Barefoot. With no phone. And these dunes are not just sand, by the way, there is also an awful lot of prickly grass. Thus, I RAN through the damn dunes for more time than I care to admit (who knew I was so fit?!). Then I finally gave up on that (stupid) strategy and returned to the beach – with still no clue as to where my proper exit-point was.

So I used my head (instead of panicking) and came up with a better strategy: I walked to the familiar end of the beach, then started back up again, walking very close to the dunes so that I would not miss my “Y” marker. Or failing that (in case it had washed away or been removed by someone), I would at least be able to see my runners.

At this point, I was more frustrated than fearful. I was mad at myself but I knew I’d be okay. Sure enough, with a more calm and methodical approach, I soon came across my exit-point. The “Y” marker was still there. Frankly, I don’t know how I could have missed it multiple times before. I sat down on the dune, thankful as all get out that I could get out. Then I put on my runners, watched the last of the sun set and headed home.

But boy oh boy was it ever dark in that wooded area by the time I went through…as in pitch black! But I wasn’t scared; I knew the way.

Which brings me back to the quote at the top of this blog. I do trust myself. And therefore I do know how to live. I know what I’m doing. I’ve got this. But I also know that, just like everyone else, I am going to continue to make mistakes. And that’s okay. All that matters is that I just keep showing up, day after day, doing my very best.

There will be times when we lose our way. When we can’t find our way back home. When we lose sight of our “Why?” And that’s okay. For even in the getting lost, we learn.

What’s not okay is when we don’t even bother trying anymore. When we stop showing up. When we stop even leaving home/our comfort zone. When we stop caring for ourselves and others. When we stop believing we have a role to play in helping make our world a better place – versus just reading the news (and spreading it) about how bad a place it is. Because it’s not. It’s a beautiful place. A wonderful world, full of amazing people and stunning places to see – and get lost in.

Yes, of course there are also plenty of things wrong with the world and lots of not-so-amazing people. But I think perspective is important. What we focus on expands…so I try and concentrate my efforts on the things I can help try and change for the better.

I needed those ten days of solitude not just to work and rest…but also to reconnect with my soul again. To take the time to truly listen to what she was trying to tell me…or rather, remind me of. Creativity is good for that. So is silence. So is nature.

“What you produce is not necessarily always sacred. What is sacred is the time that you spent working on the project, and what that time does to expand your imagination, and what that expanded imagination does to transform your life.”

– Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic

I strongly suspect that what I was writing/rewriting in Oregon is sacred. It certainly feels that way to me. And I have no doubt the time I spent working on it was sacred, as well. But I can’t help but wonder if the time I spent not working was also sacred.

As you may have guessed, my dune landmark for the week wasn’t just the letter “Y.” It was also the question: “Why?” Because if that isn’t the perfect landmark question for all of us to be continually asking ourselves, I don’t know what is.

Why are we here? Why are we doing what we’re doing? Why does it matter?

If we can answer those questions – and perhaps even be reasonable happy with our answers – then we’re on the right track. If we can’t even answer those questions, it might be time for some quiet solitude 🙂

“The key to motivation is motive. It’s the why. It’s the deeper yes! burning inside that makes it easier to say no to the less important.”

– Stephen Covey

Here are some more photos from my Oregon retreat:  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Related Blogs by Maryanne

Beautiful Big Magic Revisited

Are You Taking Care of Yourself?

Is That a Dipstick in Your Pocket…Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Maryanne Pope is the author of “A Widow’s Awakening.” She also writes screenplays, playscripts & blogs. Maryanne is the CEO of Pink Gazelle Productions and Co-Founder of  the John Petropoulos Memorial Fund. To receive her blog, “Weekly Words of Wisdom,” please subscribe here. And be sure to visit our PinkGazelleCards Etsy shop.