retreat

On Thursday afternoon, I am leaving to go on a three day writing retreat at the edge of the Boun*dary Waters Canoe Area. It is being organized through a wilderness retreat center connected to my denomination (Mennonite). I hastily applied to go to this retreat before I left on our trip to the Netherlands, and while I was gone, I checked my e-mail to hear that they’d be delighted to have me. I was thrilled, elated, amazed I’d be granted this opportunity. Now, mere days away, I find myself as nervous as a schoolgirl – a bundle of intense insecurity and general fear of the unknown. That, and I’m overwhelmed by the mother guilt that comes unbidden at everything from leaving the work of childcare and the household to J and his mom for that long, to leaving the boys themselves (especially N, who is already declaring tearfully that he’ll miss me so much), to spending money on gas and the registration fee. I’m trying not to regret signing up, trying to believe that I deserve this time somehow.

As my boys grow older and we’re moving solidly out of the baby and toddler stages, I find myself interested in a bigger world than the one I was living in a couple of years ago. It is a world that contains a more expansive definition of motherhood than all the milky, heavy labor that goes into the first couple of years or so, one that also desires engagement with people who aren’t necessarily in the exact same stage of life. I find myself thinking more about spiritual matters these days, about the natural world, and about issues and politics. Contrary to how that might sound, this isn’t a way of moving further away from my children as it is of the three and sometimes four of us all being in a place to move into that wider world together. Poems, and God, and nature, and even simple politics are a part of my children’s’ experience now, and so it feels right to engage in learning about those areas again with and without them. Going on a retreat, though, is about me. There’s no way I can justify this as being for the family somehow. True, I’m saner if I get my own needs met, but that doesn’t really require a 4 hour trek north to be with renowned writers does it?

But. J only really has one full day extra with the boys, and my MIL isn’t doing too terribly much either. I’m prepping meals, making arrangement for when I’m gone. The cost was sliding-fee. One of the facilitators of the retreat is a poet I really, really admire, and there is a focus on spiritual memoir in some of the sessions, which I’m so interested in exploring further. I feel drawn to both poetry and memoir in an intense way lately, and there are so many areas of my own messy faith story that I’ve never written about at all. And that scares me too –my unconventional faith story is quite likely going to be very different than that of a bunch of people who are most likely both cradle Mennonites and way more credentialed, or at least formally educated, than I am. There is an indignant, almost mocking voice within me lately that says, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, anyway?” There’s another voice inside me, sometimes only slightly louder, but louder all the same, that says, “You couldn’t stop writing now if you tried, if you had only a stick and sand, if the tide wore away your words every single day”. And I know that this is true.

All the same, one can’t have everything, especially not all at once. I’ve already been on one retreat this year –a silent retreat a few months ago. I worry that my intense desire to have real time to write and be alone, and also to interact with writers, is not in balance with all the roles I have to play in life right now. J’s needs aren’t getting met in some real ways –he doesn’t have the time he needs for the things he cares about either. I need to figure out a way to give him some of that. I just don’t know how to make it all work except to say no to some of these things, and I kind of wish I’d never looked at the brochure handed to me in church and then later dug out of my diaper bag.

 

Comments

[Fern]

I think it's wonderful. Maybe after you have been replenished it will be easier for you to help J carve out time for himself. It's very important. We are drawing nearer to being able to do these sorts of things too, and it's one of the things that makes me feel okay about not having any more babies.

Don't feel bad. Go into it open to what God may tell you, and you'll be blessed.

[Jane]

I know what you mean - at the moment I can't fully get into my breaks from my twins because of similar feelings of guilt etc. Funnily, when they were littler I could just switch off and forget about them when I got the chance to go out. Maybe it's knowing thay are missing their mum that's the kicker.

Nonetheless, this writing retreat thing sounds so PERFECT for you, that I hope you can just get stuck into it and enjoy it all with no backward glances. I'm sure that that's what your husband and MIL want for you too.

[cloudscome]

I am so glad you are doing this! Many great writers hear those same voices saying "you have nothing to write, what are you doing?" You just have to plow through it with your fingers in your ear. Jump in with both feet girl!

[Lisa]

First, you are a great writer, you deserve this, and it will be good for you to have a different setting/experience for a few days. There will be something, some a-ha moment in that retreat that will help you in your roles as wife and mother.

Second, its all karma. You take this time, you will be better prepared and in the right mindset to give J some time when he needs it. The role of wife/mother does not mean you have to shut off other facets of "Emmie" the individual.

Have fun!

[Meika]

Well, I do think that finding ways to be an increasingly happy and fulfilled wife and mother does serve the family as a whole, if somewhat indirectly. Remember how you felt when you came home from the last retreat? But, but, but... I think the question is bigger than that. God has made you who you are, and has called and gifted you in unique ways that extend beyond being a wife and a mother - you are *first* a child of God. You are called *first* to serve him with the gifts that he has given you. Your family is unspeakably important and serving them is certainly part of serving God, but I struggle against the idea that somehow we must default to ignoring and neglecting everything else that God has made us to be so that we can make them the center of our world. I don't know if I'm saying this well or even reading the situation right... it just sounds to me like your family will be well-cared-for in your absence and like J will not be overly burdened by this, and I'd so like to see you rejoicing in this exciting opportunity rather than feeling guilty about it. On the other hand, if something deep in your spirit is telling you that this isn't the time, that's something we need to learn to listen to, as well.

How does J feel about all this? Is he okay with it? My husband and I were unbalanced on his side for quite a while earlier this year because of a couple hunting-fishing-with-the-guys events, but I'm learning that we have different needs to feel balanced and that it's more about having our individual needs met than actually being even-steven.

Have a great time!!! I hope this retreat bears much fruit - it sounds wonderful!

[cat]

You deserve it, every minute. And you are a great writer, so do not sell yourself short. Enjoy!

[caro]

Oh! I know you're worried, but it sounds so wonderful. You DO deserve it. Congratulations!