For a week-and-a-half this June, I focused on writing, nature, good friends, and time away from the everyday. I slept well, woke up happy and excited to discuss books and art and work in progress. I walked, took photographs, laughed, ate good food, drank some wine, and stayed up way past my usual bedtime. But perhaps my favorite times were those quiet early morning hours spent sipping tea, looking out to the sunlit waters of Penobscot Bay, notebook in hand, or sitting on my friend’s mountainside deck watching eagles circle overhead or listening to moose bellow in the woods.
Returning home, I found myself spinning in the usual channels: work, finances, home repair, yard work, medical appointments, and continuing issues with the ex.
The question: How to keep the calm and joy of my time away while swirling back into daily challenges?
Pictures help. As I look at each one, now loaded onto my computer, I can remember the sights and sounds: seagulls circling with their latest catch, loons swimming slow loops near the bridge, the ever-changing light through the pines.
Emails, Facebook, and all those other wonderful modern ways to connect to people near and far, but mostly far, also make the transition easier. Many of the friends I spent time with while away, I probably won’t see for at least a year, but we will stay in touch, celebrate each other’s writing and publishing successes, and send encouragement when rejections come or edits don’t go as planned.The bonds we build in these times away from time are to be cherished and nurtured and protected.
Being a creative person means finding ways to keep going, keep making, keep growing even though the rest of the world seems to want to beat us down. After all these years and trials, fewer and fewer people ask me, “Are you still writing?” They know I am. Despite the everyday grind, I am, and I will.