A Writing Retreat Re-Defined

Last weekend I spoke at a writers’ conference, and my last talk was on self-coaching and self-care. If no one else got anything valuable from the talk, I did.

I realized as I preached about self-care for writers that my own had slipped badly. That was part of the reason I was talking armed with cough drops and hot tea with honey.

I needed some time apart to get rejuvenated. I needed a retreat.

I Don’t Have the Time or Money!

Most of us have preconceived ideas of what a “writer’s retreat” would look like for us. Anything outside that box (we think) just wouldn’t fill the bill. A cabin in the woods–alone. A week at a convent–alone. A long weekend at a hotel with room service–plus writing friends in adjoining rooms. Everyone has an idea of the perfect writing retreat. And that’s often why our internal response is, “But I don’t have the time or money for that.”

So, if that’s your situation, what do you do when your body and mind scream for a retreat? Dig into The Writer’s Retreat Kit: A Guide for Creative Exploration and Personal Expression by Judy Reeves, author of A Writer’s Book of Days. She challenges writers to think of retreats in other ways–and thus to see the possibilities around us to create such retreats. Her themed retreat ideas can be for a weekend or scaled down to a few minutes, depending on what time you have available.

Make a Mental Shift

Chew on this quote for the weekend and see what you come up with.

Much as I believe that the idea of a writing retreat will always include Time Away Alone (I expect secluded mountain cabins or pri­vate, distant seashores will also remain in our writer’s mind’s eye), I also believe it is possible for each of us to create other, less extensive writing retreats that can refill and restore us, that can be containers enabling us to produce new work and to open us to creative expres­sion and that allow us to dip into the solitude we need to communi­cate with our inner selves.

  • Consider that a writing retreat is not necessarily a place, but a concept.
  • Consider the word retreat not as a noun but a verb.
  • Consider time not as a measure in length, but in depth.
  • Consider the idea of being alone not as being distant from people but as not allowing others to intrude on your solitude.

Get Practical and Make It Happen

In other words, let loose all those old ideas about what is nec­essary for a writing retreat to be “real,” and open your mind and heart to another way of giving yourself this gift of self-care. Get out your notebook and begin listing retreat ideas that last fifteen minutes, an hour, half a day, and a weekend. Brainstorm ideas that range from free to a trip to a European hide-away, if that’s your dream retreat.

Then choose several ideas and put them on your calendar as important appointments with your writer self. I added one ten-minute retreat idea to my daily routine this week, and I’m loving it. That tea and pumpkin spice candle does it for me.

How about you? Do you have mini retreat ideas you could share?

Retreat Time: Is It Possible?

While recovering from an illness I picked up simply (I believe) from being exhausted, I was going through my favorite writing books.

One caught my eye and created an instant longing: The Writer’s Retreat Kit: A Guide for Creative Exploration and Personal Expression by Judy Reeves. It’s like a writer’s retreat in a box, with ideas for one-hour retreats, half-day retreats, weekend retreats and longer. They can be retreats at home or far away.

Retreat: a Definition

Among other things, the author wrote:

A writing retreat isn’t just about the time spent writing. Perhaps equally important as the time spent writing is the time given over to nourishment… For many writers, a retreat is a time for reconnecting with nature, for long walks in quiet woods or beside a restless seashore, for rowing on a lake or canoeing on a river. We long for a soundtrack of birdsong or trickling creek, for the lazy sway of a hammock beneath a shading tree, for a rocking chair on a generous porch, mint tea, a glass of wine or fresh, sweet water within reach. We want someone to bring us lunch. A retreat is a quiet place (except for the birds or maybe the profound purring of cat on lap), and when the time is right and good and when we are ready, it is writing.

Since I have met all five writing deadlines (some book length, some not), I am seriously considering giving myself the “gift of time” that such a retreat would take.

Pressure to Write

I’ve only gone on one writing retreat, and during that time, I felt the pressure to write continually. I had no one to cook for, no Internet connection, no one needing me for anything. It wouldn’t be like that when I returned home, so I felt much pressure to write, write, write!

But oh! A retreat without pressure or guilt? Wouldn’t that be heavenly? It wouldn’t have to be expensive–or even cost anything at all. I live near a pond and greenbelt area to walk in, I have a porch with a swing and three rockers, and I can fix the tea.

It’s the time that will cost me–time away from people and expectations and deadlines. It would be having the guts to say “no, I can’t,” when I’m home and free. Right now, I can barely fathom what it would feel like to retreat like this and not write until I really felt called back to it.

But oh! What an idea! I think I’m going to take a serious look at my calendar!