Five Years a Writer

We had a huge rainfall and big wind on Sunday late afternoon into the evening. It was wild and fierce nature — unconfined, insistently present, forceful. We got a bit of water in the basement (from the usual source that, clearly, we can no longer ignore), but we and our property survived. Now all that the plants need is some sun and heat to dry out and get blooming. I had spent the earlier part of the weekend at a writing retreat where, it occurs to me, I experienced a similar intensity of energy and force. Eight women and two facilitators (Deborah, who is my workshop collaborator, and I) committed to being present to each other as we talked about our writing work and actively engaged with our creative selves. We were quieter than the rain and wind that fell later on Sunday, but the impact of our collective endeavour was no less forceful. There is something remarkable about being in the company of willing and open participants, ready to welcome the unknown possibilities of their writte