Sometimes weekends away are relaxing. Some are more along the lines of work. Other times they are a hybrid of the two and you come away exhausted but content. But, definitely exhausted:)

Two weekends ago I went on a "retreat" that I had no business going on because life was rather ramped up at the moment with four kids back to school and sports exploding all over the calendar in addition to those not-so-savory things a person has to do--like clean the house, do the laundry, break into the fall wardrobe while still floating the summer shorts.

​Don't even get me started on the socks!

​Socks. On the floor. A basket of matchless singles growing and growing. Smelly socks stuffed in shoes. Inside out socks in the middle of the stairs. Even socks OUTSIDE! Enough about the socks. On this retreat there wasn't a sock in sight. :)

There I was, on a writer's retreat to Squam Lake. What a beautiful location! So beautiful that it was a challenge to not spend the whole time walking around exploring or jumping in the lake. I was there to focus on my writing, so I soaked all the nature in from a comfortable and semi-productive distance.

What was so exhausting about that?
​Well, it was a bit like a mini-conference and anybody who has ever been to a conference knows there's a lot of talking, meeting people, introducing yourself, figuring out what it is you might tell them, wondering more about them, and sharing a room with a stranger. Sure, she'll feel like a friend by the end of the weekend, but there's a process and so sharing a room can add to the lethargy. Throw in a wonderful old cabin that doesn't muffle anything and only amplifies every footstep and shift of weight. A toilet flushing? Sounds like Niagra Falls has just dumped down the walls and onto the floor. 

​It's all part of the charm, but also the process of allowing yourself to be uncomfortable, a little awkward, and eventually feel a bit like family when it's all said and done. It was a great experience and it felt so good to meet so many wonderful, creative, nerdy minds like myself. People who wrote, researched, animated, edited, agented, revised, read, made dolls and were all interested in each other. It's a great feeling to be surrounded by people committed to creativity!

The weather was perfect. Everything was photogenic, as you'll see below, and the whole experience helped me to grow a little bit more as a writer, a reader, and a member of the big wide creative community I love being a part of.

In the repetitive days of a pandemic, there aren't too many surprises, but yesterday I got one. Writing in my journal--as I do each day--I flipped through the journal and discovered that the second half of the journal was made up of blank pages. 

No lines!

I flipped through three more times in mild disbelief and a bit bewildered, "What do I do with blank, unlined pages? I'm not an artist--not a visual one. Or, at least, I don't consider myself a visual artist. But, the the thing about the unexpected is that it often presents an opportunity. It goes a little somethin' like this:

1. Confusion at the interruption and change of expectation
2. Excitement that I can be done with this journal earlier than expected because apparently I am a bit of a journal snob and I balk at this current journal because the pages are smaller, more narrow and the lines are more closely spaced than I prefer. Wow--what a snob!:)
3. Judgement: How odd to have a journal that is half useless.
4. Realization: I guess a person doesn't need lines to write--perhaps some prefer no lines. Hmm . .?
5. Enlightenment: Maybe half the journal is to write and half is to draw.
6. Doubt: I am not an artist. I have no use for those pages. They will remain blank.
7. Reconsideration of my stubborn ways. Maybe I should draw even though "I don't." I could see those pages as an invitation to try something different, not a replacement but an aside--something complementary. I could try to sketch my creativity?
8. Perhaps: I will accept this invitation, this challenge.
9. How: I will doodle, draw, do whatever I want each day on one of the blank pages.
10. Acceptance: What seemed weird, then a waste, then unwanted is feeling more like a win--a way to learn and explore creative expression from a different angle.