Un-retreating

It's funny, once I started writing outside of this blog, I stopped writing here. Maybe this was my little haven to write in when I thought I didn't write?

Anyway, I spent a week at Karme Choling in Vermont at a writing retreat, getting to know my characters, myself, my retreat-mates, all that good stuff.

It was a strange, brain swirling time. Alternately feeling like a retreat, like rehab, like high school then back to a retreat.

Bookends

When I arrived, eyes open, heart half closed,

there she was. Ella.

Leading me up the stairs, down the hallway

showing me where we put our shoes,

explaining how to park the car

to make room for others.

Ushering me in.

And though she walked with me,

I knew it was a journey I was going to take on my own.

And when I left, heart open, eyes half closed,

there he was. Jan.

Leading me down the garden path,

familiar now beneath my feet.

Showing me where to wash the kale,

explaining how to put cold water on the wound

to keep the cabbage fresh.

Ushering me out.

And though he walked with me,

I knew it was a journey I was going to take on my own.

What happened in between is like a distant memory.

I know it will return,

but for now I let the pages lie still and closed,

between the bookends.

- me