quiet, contemplation, re-tooling
March 7, 2011 
Hi everyone --
Did something this week I've never done: I spent a few nights at a hotel on the Fox River and spent a few days purposely doing nothing. Or what looks like nothing. I was thinking, praying, about what's next -- in writing, in life, at church.
When I scheduled this time many, many months ago, I thought it would be time to work on something -- a time to disconnect from being online (Twitter, Facebook, email) and just work on a project. Something like what I'd done at Hedgebrook a few years back. Or in 2003, at the Anderson Center for Interdisciplinary Studies.
Over the last few years I've come to realize that some of the most fruitful times I've had as a writer -- where I've learned the most, and grown the most -- have been at these places where it's me, the laptop, and no distractions. So I was planning on trying to do something very, very short, but alone to see if it worked to get me started on something...
What I learned (again) is that sometimes it's hard to plan life: It took a month longer than I anticipated to finish this draft for my editor, and so when this time came to leave for this working retreat, I actually couldn't imagine working. I've been writing for 7 hours straight (at times) per day, these last few months.
(Sidenote: I probably should explain what 7 hours means since a lot of people work 8 hour days: Writing time is separate from any sort of business responsibilities I have as a writer. Writing time is sitting at a desk in front of a computer and working on a piece of writing. I don't go online. I don't read email, status updates, tweets. I don't do online research. I don't do the laundry, though I usually want to. I just write. I DO go to the bathroom, get snacks, and make tea -- the reason I'm so strict about distractions is because I can make ANYTHING a distraction (even my bladder conspires against my writing). Anyway, it's a lot of concentration for a long period of time. I turn on Freedom and a timer and I work. Usually, I write 4 hours a day/6 days a week, and after 4 hours my mind is fuzzy. So 7 hours? I'm running into walls -- yes, literally.)
Afterward? As Julia Cameron, would say: the well was dry.
So instead, I used these three days to pray, to walk, to journal, to do Julia Cameron writing exercises, to read and re-read some Francis Chan (and think some more about it). I also had a big list of things I wanted to check in with God about -- you know, take my time talking and listening... Let's face it, I've been so focused on me and my project and my writing, that I felt like I was wearing blinders. I'd lost sight of the world, the bigger picture. I hate to admit this, but it's the truth: my prayers had mostly been about this paragraph, that character, a plot hole big as the Grand Canyon. (Which God was patient with, and loving, and He answered many of these petitions, pleas...)
But now, I was tired and going away. And could not start something. Not right now. So I had my doubts about this whole getaway idea. But then, I thought why waste time worrying about something you can't do anything about -- I was here. The money was spent. Think bigger. Pray. Think. Let your thoughts wander. See what happens.
So I went ahead with my days: I started with journaling or prayer or whatever. Then took a five to six mile walk on the Fox River Trail and the felt the rhythm of walking in my body, and which -- it seemed like magic -- untethered my thoughts and they went wherever the wind was blowing. I'd pray about this, think about my dad, think about the time when we lived in this part of Illinois, be surprised by the changes in the landscape (where's the grocery store?), and laugh at Buffleheads diving on the river, think about some other aspect of family, church, whatever.
The geese! The sky was lined with geese! I miss the geese in the city. We don't see all these geese. We certainly don't hear them very well.
I spent two hours reading one night -- just reading. Felt deliciously indulgent. Reading Joyce Carol Oates, A Widow's Story. Intense -- so intense. Don't know how she managed to squeeze me into her head but she did. Amazing book. Need to read more, and watch less Netflix.
See how my mind wanders? Yes, a lot was in the 'whatever' or 'if-I-want' category. Praying and walking were non-negotiable.
When I returned to the hotel, I'd decide if I wanted to go to a coffee shop. But only if I wanted. Did a writing exercise -- if I wanted. And mostly spent a lot of time thinking, staring out of windows, listening into coffee shop conversations. Writing what I noticed: things like trees sounding a lot lot like hinges, or that half-asleep a flotilla of geese landing and calling to one another sounds a lot like cowbells on a herd of sheep. Odd but true. For a moment, I was sure the sheep were coming down the mountain...
And now I'm back. With a good list of things to do, and a good list of things not to do. More at peace.
Work calls: Got to write the back matter for the book. And I've got to finish an essay for a workshop I'm taking this summer with Scott Russell Sanders. And then there's the kids' book I started last summer which I think I'm going to take a look at and see what I think...
That's the news.
Have you guys ever done anything like this? How did it go for you? I'd love to know what you did and how it went and what you liked best and anything else you want to tell me.
Hope you're well!
Amy
Anderson Center, Buffleheads, Fox River, Francis Chan, Hedgebrook, julia cameron, netflix, prayer, reading in birding, faith, happy, life, retreats, slow and savory, survival, worship, wow, writing 
