intent

The reading retreat.

The reading retreat.

April 6, 2020
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Writing retreats, I’ve done. Alone. Together.
A day, two, three.

But never an official reading retreat.

One could argue I’ve been doing reading retreats ever since I learned how to read, because, to quote my mom, once I did I never stopped. Countless weekends I’ve spent immersed in great novels; laying away many a night, reading, totally engrossed in a story, making me experience life as a Viking slave, an Egyptian princess, a Vietnamese poet, a cave-woman, or explore the vast skies astride a flying dragon in some magical universe, similar and yet so different to my own.

But thanks to a The Creative’s Workshop-colleague writing about wanting to take time to read, I suggested she do a reading retreat, and all of a sudden, we had a date, going from idea to fruition in the space of three days. 90 minutes, over Zoom, all in all, four people, even though two sort of played a relay-game with each other, with one leaving as another entered the room. The Zoom-room.

…to be, without the intent to talk I said when we checked in prior to one reader leaving for another meetup. I’ve done many a type of meeting online, but never, truly, one where the intention was not to talk, but to be, and to read.

And I loved it.

As we shared half-time my co-creator was reminded of a quote by Lynda Barry, who has said about art-making that it’s this thing that we do alone together.

And I loved it. Alone. Together.
It felt so good. You know, like sitting in a room with a best friend, in total silence, and absolute companionship, doing whatever one pleases, but together? That’s what it felt like.

A gift.
One I want more of.

Would you like to join me sometime?

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The shape-shifting of life

February 24, 2017
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The changes… Think back a month or two, to the despair, anxiety, worry for the future. And look at where you are at today! Filled with hope, in love with life and others, a bounce in your step’s that you couldn’t even imagine a few months back.

This, is life.
Truly, this is what life is about.

The constant evolving of a present, that shape-shifts constantly. Harsh and cold at one time, embracing and warm the next. Anxiousness abounds, to be replaced by being in love. The heartwreanching loneliness, to never be loved again, held, desired and caressed, replaced by the closeness of two bodies, breathing in the breath of a loved one in a passionate kiss.

Shape-shifting
How life can be at the very bottom… with the instinct to shut it off, let go, and simply never have to live through another millisecond of pain. And then. You go on, not letting go, not ending life, and all of a sudden, there’s this tiny tiny shift in the darkness, one ray of light entering a crack, and simsalabim, it’s daylight. Bright and shiny, and hope abounds again. Yet again.

This is, to some extent, my story.
But more than that, it’s yours. You whom I have followed, and held, and loved, and cried with. My soul-sister in life, in exploring with vulnerability, what it means to live wholeheartedly. With intent. Openness to what may come.

And see – what has come, you would not have thought just a few weeks ago. And yet, here it is.

Life. Fantastic. Frustrating. Filled with fear and then… not!
The shape-shifting of life, is perhaps, what makes life worth living?

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