Writer’s Weekend

12 Feb

I went away last weekend.

Like: Away.

Like: Leave the family – the kid, the dogs, the cat, the laundry – at home and LEAVE TOWN. To write. To be a writer. To set a few goals. To free-write. Remember that? Free writing? Writing to cleanse the soul. To play. To be. Writing I may share or {gasp} not share. Free. For a whole weekend. Free from responsibilities. Free from duty. Free, free, free.

Because my family supports my writing – my Honey, both girls, even the dogs (trust me on this), I can actually ditch town for a full weekend just.for.me. Even if this is the first time I’ve done it in over ten years – since becoming a mom and, yes, I was wracked with guilt half the time – even while the tween was having the time of her life with a sleepover and two playdates and dancing and movie-making and stories and art and PLAY, PLAY, PLAY.

Even while my Honey had friends over both nights, and then up to and well beyond the moment I arrived home. Even so.

The guilt. My, oh, my.

Or maybe it was just that they could get along without me.

I’m told that bit gets easier.

I went away with a friend. A new friend. A coworker. A writer. We told stories for days – well, two days, but – you know? STORIES. To each other. And on the page. I adore this friend. I really do. In part because he handled warmly and gracefully my quiet melancholy in the woods, my need for silence, my insecure brooding self. How many friends do any of us have who can handle all that? These friends are gifts.

Here’s what our weekend looked like:

Writing Weekend Snacks

Writing Weekend One Computer

Writing Weekend Two Computers

Writing Weekend Too Much Light

Writing Weekend Fridge

When we stopped writing, we walked.

Writing Weekend Road

Writing Weekend Pictures of Trees   Writing Weekend Snowy Trees

And by the time we were ready to go – after hours of writing and talking and listening – I found my perspective shifting more naturally, less haltingly, both my feet on solid ground.

 

 

Writing Weekend Path to the Not so Frozen Lake

Writing Weekend Leaves and Ice

Writing Weekend Snowy Leaves Melting Ice

Writing Weekend Ice Melt

It was … precisely … what I needed.

All of it.

Snow

and leaves,

melting ice and

friendship. And words.

So, so, so many words

falling into place, all

in their own

time.

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2 Responses to “Writer’s Weekend”

  1. Tiffany Turner February 12, 2015 at 11:25 pm #

    Love writing weekends! Total reason just to go to a conference is to get away from it all. Writing is the medicine for the soul. Glad you were able to do it.

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