What I would tell you if you were here with me
If you and I were chatting under the pergola about writing & life & owning your desires, this is what I would tell you:
It matters that you journey for what has been lost, misplaced, abandoned. It is where a crucial part of your wholeness lives.
I would tell you the act of retreating is sacred not self-indulgent. That we all need time away from ordinary life to reacquaint ourselves with ourselves. Yes, few can take the time but that doesn’t mean those of us who can shouldn’t. We want to envision a world with enough for all.
I would tell you to share your stories not because it will make you rich and famous, but because as you create & shape your message, you change into someone who trusts you can shape and build a life that you want, and a world that you want to live in.
I would tell you inviting your body to move the way it wants to move can repair more hurts than you ever need name.
I would tell you please lie back into the retreat circle and let it carry you. You belong. It’s not up to you to do this alone.
I would tell you that I see your beauty honed from so much sorrow, and while the sorrow never goes away, what you’ve done with it is magnificent and noble.
I would tell you to trust the magic of making space and help you not fill it with shadow comforts and time monsters so your stories could flourish.
I would tell you how brave you are to let go of regret and resignation and dare to live a truer life, revealed day by day.
So even though we aren’t together this week, I hope you can hear me and believe me. Pick up the pen, the camera, the business plan, the computer code, learn your craft, work with grit, work through frustration.
Your stories matter.