Retreat

I recently celebrated my 10th work anniversary. What a small number compared to 20 and 30 years some people have served in an organization. I did pull a long stint in the field of criminal law for almost 17 years before I started this current job. To reward me for what is considered long service, I am given an extra 5 days of vacation leave during the year of my anniversary. Now, that might seem like something miniscule but if you have ever worked as a contract worker, with no paid vacation leave, then 5 days of paid leave is indescribably generous and motivating.

I dithered about what I would do with my leave. Maybe take a day off just to read. I have been gifted books for my 50th, vouchers to the various bookstores around town and I also have a pile of unread books that are on my shelf for just such an occasion. I thought about a spa day. Walking into some tranquil setting, sipping on a mimosa, the scent of the lemongrass massage oil making it worthwhile.

A window-shopping day. Looking at the latest trends (many of which I would never ever put onto my body) and lastly, I thought a progressive eating day might just do it.  Breakfast at EL&N, lunch at The Prawnery and supper at Casa Bella.

I started asking other people who had celebrated their work anniversary and received the same reward what they had done with those 5 days. No-one had any definitive recollection of what they did with their leave. Maybe I’m just a big, gooey sentimentalist. I know. Hard to believe! If someone gifts me a book, they must write a message in it. If someone gives me cash, I want to be able to remember what I bought with it. If someone gives me something wearable, then I must wear it when I see the person so they can know I appreciate what I was given. I wanted to remember what I did with these precious 5 days.

Now, as many of you have probably guessed, I do like to write. I have had many book ideas, only 1 of which materialized into something tangible. I wish I could go back and re-do it! There are a hundred things I would do differently.

I often listen to podcasts about writing, have done numerous online and in-person courses to hone the craft. I have read countless books. I often re-read my favourites -Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, Elizabeth Gilbert:Big Magic and Madeleine L'Engle: Walking on Water. I follow other writers on various platforms to see what they did and how they got it done. Often, I stumbled across ads for writers’ retreats, all over the world. Where like-minded people got together, without the distractions of daily life, discussed their plots and twists and genres and then did what needed to be done. Write.

One writer had posted a picture of what looked like the cabin in the woods where Goldilocks found her just right. Peaceful, tranquil and isolated. Her aim? To complete her book. The last push before ‘the end’. Since I follow her on social media, this year, I saw her post that she had won an award. For that same book. I was flabbergasted and slightly envious. She created this writing retreat for herself every year. Roland has mentioned it to me several times. That he wanted to send me on a writing retreat. As soon as we discussed it, we immediately moved on to something more pressing. Bills, appointments and family drama.

Since I have a day job, my writing is relegated to when I find the time. Which is not often because everything else takes precedence. A meal needs to be prepped, someone needs something, someone recommends a new series which I just have to watch. I treat my writing like a hobby, and everyone else does too. I don’t give my writing any priority, so it has constantly remained something I just do on the side. Until I attended a Business Forum at Urban Life Church in February this year. Now before you think, this is some spiritual awakening that took place let me stop you. It came from a very robust and difficult table discussion on various things and then the group focused on my problem. Which surprised me. Being a business forum, people’s problems ranged from ratty co-workers, intolerable bosses and how to be assertive when asking for more money.

The leader of the table immediately zoned in on my problem. I wanted to write but seemingly could not find time to do it. People started to ask me tough questions. Someone in the group who knew my family dynamics asked, “How come Uncle Roland has time to practice his music?”

To which I had no answer.  “Ummm he just does. He sits down to practice and just does!”

In my mind, that’s a creative process. He needs to practice because he is a creative. Of course, someone followed that up with, “So what stops you from sitting down and just writing?” Good question, again, to which I also had no answer. Writing was just something I did. On the side. I wasn’t a creative. That’s for artsy, musicky, pottery, painting, designing type folks.

Then someone asked, “Isn’t stringing words together in a way that makes other people enjoying reading it a creative process?” By now I was wanting this session to end. Please go solve the problem of the lady with the weird co-worker who told her to stop humming in the workplace.

Then came the final nail in what was starting to feel like a coffin filled with the corpse of my various and ridiculous excuses. The group leader asked, “What would it cost you to make the time or create a space in your schedule to write?”

What would it cost me? Would it cost me an hour in the morning where instead of lying in I got up and got to the laptop? Would it cost me cooking a simpler meal instead of 3 different dishes, so everyone had a choice? Would it cost me an hour (or 3) of TV series and movie time? Would it cost me putting down a book already written and published by someone else and getting to putting down my own words? The answer was simple. There was no monetary cost to this. It came down to me. Nobody else controlled my writing but me.

What would it cost you? To eat healthier? To start exercising? To exercise more?

To repair a damaged relationship? To forgive someone or to ask for forgiveness?

To let go of bitterness? To move jobs? To leave a toxic relationship? To start a new relationship? To serve more? To get unstuck? To make new plans? To do whatever it is that’s been lurking in the corners of your life just waiting for you. For you. What would it cost you?

I left that Business Forum feeling slightly deflated. My problem was me? The answer is yes. I am.

I quickly got re-focused because if someone else had called me a problem they would get the stink eye, and I would probably have a dozen choice words to utter. None of them fit for repeating here. But here I was admitting I was the problem, and something needed to be done.

I pulled together some accountability partners.

People who would pray for me, read excerpts, ask me about my progress, give me suggestions, crit my writing and check that I hadn’t gone back to bad habits.

I took my friend up on her offer to travel to Cape Town, sit on her balcony and write.

I told Roland about my book idea. I sat down at various intervals and outlined almost 20 chapters. I booked my flight, which was very difficult because I have not been away from family for more than a night in the last few years. I cooked some easy meals for my chaps to tackle while I was away, I packed my bags and here I sit on what is my own writers retreat. My friend feeds me well.

I don’t have to do anything but sit at my laptop (ok – disclaimer- I did step away for fish and chips from Hout Bay). I am intent on getting a lot of chapters done for a 1st draft. In the end it cost me acknowledging that the coffin of excuses needed to be buried.

As my friend Lynn Pillay, (who is also one of those accountability partners I mentioned) asked me on my second day here, “Send me POW and POF?”

Huh?

“Proof of work?” I asked.

Giggle. She knew I was on vacation leave.

“No. PROOF OF WRITING! And POF.”

“POF?”

“Proof of FUN”

When I sent feedback to the leader of the that Business Forum group I was in, he also said he hopes, ‘the writing is fun but also full of life that leads to lasting impact to those who read it.’

So, here I am. On my writing retreat, released by my family from all mum and wife duties, having fun while I write something that I hope is impactful. Years from now, when someone celebrating their 10th work anniversary asks me, “So what did you do with your 5 days?” I can sentimentally say, “It cost me!!! But I went on a writing retreat.”