Why it’s a great idea to go on a writing retreat
1. It won’t make you a writer, but it will make you a writer
One of the hardest things about writing, besides the actual writing, is getting those words out of your mouth: ‘I am a writer.’ Of course we rationally know that a baker doesn’t have to be baking 24/7 to be allowed to call themselves a baker, so neither do you have to constantly write to be a writer. Writing doesn’t even have to pay the bills for you to be a writer. But still, there’s that voice in your head that won’t allow you to say it out loud.
Living the dream (for a short while)
Eline van Wieren is a writer from the Netherlands. A year ago, she signed with a Dutch publishing house for her debut novel. After she signed, she decided: I’ll take one year to write my first draft, another for rewrites and then my book will be ready to hit the stores. This turned out to be pretty optimistic planning. Because how do you write a book when you’re also expected to pay rent, see your friends regularly, move your body enough so it stays healthy and do all that other stuff that makes up a life? In this series of blogs Eline writes about the struggle of being a writer and a human being at the same time.
Tortoise Medicine
“. . . Reflecting on the moment it was clear that humans are moving at reckless and inconsiderate speeds resulting in harm to mother nature. We race by the place we call home and sustains all. On our way to somewhere we think important. What is to become of us if we do not remain connected to what supports us from below. . .”
Emotion in Motion
“I don’t know how it is for you but most of the time when I move my body; I have a feeling about it.
A motion emotion. Big ones, cat-cow cat-cow, again and again on the mat. Jumping on the bed. Running on the beach. Making love in the ocean. And little ones, eyebrows raising, tapping a finger, looking from here to there. “
Wide Awake
“. . . Sometimes, you have to squint and fix your eyes on the horizon to tell if the locomotive engine is moving at all. Sometimes you have to find a new perspective. . “
Life, Stripped Down
“ . . . To the extent that we’re afraid of space – stillness, spaciousness, silence – we’re afraid of our own inner lives. And to the extent that we’re afraid of our inner lives, we live at odds with ourselves. This is of course hardly a path to harmony. And harmony – we all know this, right? – is foundational to well-being. . . “
ICE
“ . . . As seasons change so do the seasons of life. As an adult, father, and wage earner, I lived years of dreading winter snows. Winter meant shoveling, and it meant driving in slippery conditions. It meant waiting in grocery lines with others, wrestling with a quiet panic believing there wasn't enough linguine or toilet paper in the house. . . “
Books Can Save Us
“ . . . I’ve put band aids on all year only to rip them off when they prove useless. There have been sweet days of gratefulness followed by a string of claustrophobic fog-laden afternoons when it just feels right to throw a blanket over my head so the sadness doesn’t find me. Reading was my refuge when writing seemed not only torturous but pointless. I guess that’s the definition of tortured writing. . . “
2022 Begins with 2021 Ending – my letter to my fellow travelers began there:
“. . . I would have our most precious commodity be creative energy. I’d have support systems for individual and collaborative creative ventures. I’d say, here’s the thing — everyone needs to contribute something because that makes us feel ourselves more clearly when we’re adding something to the mix. Generosity is contagious just as much as Omicron, maybe even more so. Wisdom and compassion can be the planetary value system. Equal means Equal. Education is dispensed for free, not loans to banks and corporations. . . “