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I Took a Solo Retreat

I took a 5 day solo retreat in early August.

I was scared– so much time, what would I do?

Just me and myself– what would we talk about?

I sensed I shouldn’t make it a “production” retreat.

I needed to recharge.

I would do my standard amount of fiction writing for Friday and Monday to stay on track– that was it.

I journaled.

I read two YA novels.

I sat by the lake and did nothing– was blank, like the stones I sat on.

I swam often because it was hot.

I paddled my kayak to the Palisades, one of my favorite Boundary Waters spots.

I listened to loons.

I listened to my own strange circuitous, critical, whimsical loop of thoughts.

I slept about 12 hours a day.

I loved it.

I ate blueberries, half-crouched and grazing like a bear (in a pink bikini).

I talked (aloud) to myself.

I lived without pressure, hurry or expectation.

It reset me.

It brought me back to myself:

Home.

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