Yesterday I arrived at one of my favorite places in the whole world, Aldermarsh retreat center, on Whidbey Island north of Seattle. I come here with friends every New Year's to rest in the dark of the north, in the quiet of the country, in the oxygen of the forests, in the mists of the winter. We arrived in glorious sunshine and settled in. Today we had frost, clouds, wind, rain, and now a fog at sunset that glows a bit pink at the edges and makes me wish I knew how to paint that.
This is a soul place for me, an esthetic of bamboo and fir, of cedar and fern, of alder and marsh that resonates so deep within me. The first time I came here, I begged to return.
I have come here this time to be productive. I want very much to get deeply back into my current novel, which slipped out of my grasp in a December of social activity and lots of paid work. And today has been highly successful, as my characters have started talking to me again, showing up on the page.But I also want to do very little with some of my time here, to let the healing process, which has been accelerated by Evie's appearance in my life, have all the room it needs to.
Ah, the dilemma of do and don't do.