designing a healing retreat

Writing and Healing Idea #1: Designing a Healing Retreat
Imagine for a moment that you go to your mailbox. You find there an envelope—a small white square. You open the envelope to find this card: “You are invited to a Healing Retreat for 6 weeks at a place of your choosing.

This is a prompt from the One Year of Writing and Healing:

“i am made small by the natural beauty, in front of me a lake large enough to get choppy in the winds framed by rising mountains, forested with sunlit ridges of deciduous trees and valleys of dark beech. A gently sloping lawn rolls down towards the lake transforming into a stony beach with well-washed, well-rounded stones of all shapes and sizes. Along the beach, rocks rise out of the water where a stream enters; always flowing, gurgling, swirling, refreshing. The stream has flowed into this lake long enough to create a small, smooth, inviting rock pool. At the other end of the beach is a wooden jetty; merely a foot or so above the water so hot feet can dangle in the lake and children can lie flat on their tummies and stare deep down into the water to create a new world of their own imagining. Silent watercraft, wait, ever-ready to ease out along the cool expanse of water.

A ways up the grassy slope stands a colonial cottage; hewn from wood and stone; crafted from the landscape yet inherently human in its straight lines, geometric windows, and carefully pitched porch whose roof line slopes down at just the right angle creating shade on the hottest of summer afternoons. The porch stretches around most of the house encouraging residents to come out and rest; to enjoy the evening glow or long afternoon shadows, to turn their faces toward the wind blowing through the trees and breaking up the surface of the lake in ever-changing shifts of light and dark or to sip hot, sharp coffee as the sun rises over the tree tops in the east enlightening the mist resting across the meadows.

A forest encroaches on a grassy field surrounding the cottage; thinning at its boundaries inviting entry. Meadow flowers speckle the grass in vivid yellows, reds, pinks, and purples, interspersed with the softer shades of lemon and lilac. A now random orchard, reaches to the edge of the forest offering apples, plums, apricots and peaches. Domestic herbs gone wild and asparagus shoots celebrate life while sheltered beneath the trees. Evergreens stands inhabit the forest, thinning the forest floor under their dense canopies providing a dark green offset to the vivid oranges of fall and the grey-taupe-white evenness of winter.

The cottage, at the top of the rise welcomes all into an open plan living space, drawing one toward the fire place when the chill damps down the air outside. Worn, wooden floors cloaked in deep rich red rugs lie across the room at the feet of antique furnishings oriented to encourage reading, or gazing out the window or soaking up the glow of the fire. A comfy couch and armchairs encircle the fire; a sunroom with bay window and cushioned seating lies in the east. Floor to ceiling bookshelves line the walls which face the cold winds supported by a ladder encouraging readers to scale the heights. An ottoman on wheels always finds itself at the base of the ladder so I can sit down and peruse my new pile of books. The windows are also floor to ceiling and low winter sunlight pours through warming the cottage, traversing the living space lighting up different parts of the room as the sun traverses the sky. the stained glass panels creating a dancing kaleidoscope of colors over the floor and furniture; sometimes sliding entrancingly across the page I am reading. French doors open out toward the lake allowing that sweet damp smell of water to wash up and through the house and the sounds of the stream, birds, and branches moving blow through on the wind. Other than the sounds of nature the house is quiet.

A kitchen of subtle ivory toning harbors an island bench with guest-friendly stools tucked underneath. This kitchen is stocked with simple, fresh fare; some sweets and some savory; some heavy foods and some light. The dining room table at the kitchen end of the living room is large enough to seat 8-10 comfortably; antique oak in a simple yet elegant design; the legs are curved but not ornate speaking of a quiet, enduring strength; this table feels like woman.

Upstairs is a bedroom or two with a window frames a writing table supporting a stack of fine sheets of paper, two or three blank journals with artistic covers and elegant binding, pens with varying nibs and inks, pencils and a fine china tea cup. This is a room with a view. A comfy armchair rests in the corner under the warm glow of the lamp keeping company with the knitting basket and another pile of books stacked within easy reach.

Off the bedroom is a well lit, simple, airy room for quiet reflection. A yoga mat is stretched out on the floor patiently waiting for the next set of asanas while the mediation cushion and mat mindfully notice the passage of time in front the Buddha and candles.

The week days pass in a kind of loose weave of waking, reflective practices, writing, playing the cello, knitting, cooking, wandering the meadows and forest, strolling around the lake’s edge; sometimes swimming, sometimes just lapping the toes; all in solitude. On the weekends friends and loved ones arrive to a wonderful tossed salad and fresh baked bread in the summer, soup and hot bread in fall; a rich stew in winter or local produce in spring. We gift each other our lives and love while walking, talking, and cooking in an easy companionable presence.

and so i sit here and notice how i feel in my body right now…how am i with the whole of this? i feel centered and serene, there is a calmness that is empty yet full. full of the gift of acceptance, full of potential through choices that are harmonious with my life energy. there is a poignant sadness that my life is somewhat different to this but also the rising energy of hope that if i can imagine this i can create it. no not hope; there is the certainty that i just have to choose this and i can create it. yes…that feels truer. i notice a quiet smile at the corner of my lips and a softness in my jaw and i sense coming home to who i really am…and how i can really be. in my imagery there is the perfect balance of solitude and company, self-fullness and companionship. i feel rich and round and all woman.

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