Writing Retreat

As many of you might know, I am a Buddhist, and as such do on occasion have need to go on a retreat. Sometimes these retreats are with others and sometimes alone. Being as I am not a heavy duty practioner like many of my pals, my retreats tend to be a bit softer than their's. I might practice but also have lots of time to write and read and walk about. I've also been on several writing retreats over the years, some alone or with one other person (Gwen usually) or in a larger community of writers.

What I love is that there are people who support the need for writers to get away from time to time. There are groups and associations and individuals who make it so we artists can nurture our craft. Tomorrow I'm going off to meet a woman and get a key to a house in Great Village, NS. The house is called Elizabeth Bishop House and it was the home of the American poet of the same name.

So this is the process by which this occurs - I was at a gathering of women writing pals last night and mentioned I wanted to get away for a few days and finish this revision. One of the writers there had just done a retreat at Bishop House. I knew of it - Gwen and I had hunted it down last fall when I was doing my farm writing gig and it seemed the perfect spot. Smack dab in the middle of a tiny town with nothing to do (I hope!), the house is a lovely old wooden place where the spirit of Elizabeth Bishop moves around guiding the solitary retreatant. So there is our small karass of six or seven women one of whom sent me off the email address - there is the Elizabeth Bishop society that offers this service at a most reasonable rate and that is just one small force. Small groups of like-minded people can do wonders. And I am blessed to be among them!
And of course, there is my dear guy, who said 'sure, go - write. I'll miss you but I'll be fine.'

Now, what shall I take? My laptop which is now getting juiced up and having all its bits scanned and so on as I hardly use it. My working copy of the book loaded into the laptop. My notebook that I keep notes in on the book. Some lovely pens. A few books and my knitting so I can have little breaks. Simple food - eggs, bread, salad mixing, tinned salmon, rice cakes, peanut butter and coffee and hot chocolate
and tea, some nuts and fruit... warm simple pull on clothing, warm pj's, my camera for a few forays, some candles, and incence and my portable shrine and that will be that! Ah, what bliss.  What would you take?

Here is an Elizabeth Bishop poem that I love:

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop


The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

later...