A friend left for Squam today. I went back and forth over whether or not to go with her this year, but ultimately it didn't feel like my season. Fear didn't hold me back, I just didn't feel ready for it. I don't know if my mind and heart would allow me to fully enjoy the trip. Not yet, at least. That's why I'm here, in this space, doing the work.
Instead of packing and getting on a plane and traveling across the country, today I cleaned and cooked and gathered supplies. Made a plan. I'm creating my own creativity retreat for the next three days. I'm going to wake up to meditation and yoga each morning, then do fun things with my kids. We'll paint and draw and make things and play outside, basically following our hearts' desires. I'm going to spend my afternoons reading under trees, writing, and trying new things. I'm going to dig in the dirt and eat delicious vegan food and hopefully build some wonderful new habits to carry me through the summer.
Most of all, I plan to ignore the messes.
That book was a much appreciated gift from a new friend. It's going to be one of my many text-companions over the next few days. But look to the right . . . see that pile . . . that monstrous pile? Those are homeschool planning files and books for next year. Fuck them. They don't exist. Also, I plan to ignore the t.v. (except for maybe a movie night with my man), and drastically limit my internet time. Fifteen minutes in the morning to check email, and fifteen minutes in the afternoon strictly for blogging time. The computer is a tool I want to take with me on this retreat, but the world will carry on if I'm not on Pinterest for the next three days. Maybe.