First in my series of posts about retreat. Bet you can guess what the next 5 are gonna be, right?
The plan: pack myself and some "stuff" and head off by myself for three full days. Not unreachable, wilderness-type stuff, but more the comforts of home away from home. No interruptions I don't invite or allow, a fluid, flexible personal agenda, and as much silence as possible.
Just Little 'Ol Me.
"Vacationing" and "retreating" could be considered two different things ... I suppose what your mind conjures up will dictate your own opinions; Mr. Mark may think of retreat as Civil-War related, and Gramma Carol may think of vacationing at the beach.
For me, "Vacation" = effort, forced fun, scheduling, cost, planning, getting your hopes up, some down time between meals, handling disappointment, orchestrating activities. Just going from one person to two dramatically increases the thought and effort going into vacation plans. (Bear with me; it's not that I think all vacations are misery. I promise.)
Truth be told: I'd rather stay home. I LIKE my home. I like my house, my books, my family, my photos, my town. I don't have this insatiable desire (which always fascinates me-- truly), to "get away." Is the need to leave here or go there? I'll concede it can be both, in theory. Just not for me.
"Retreat" = relax. unwind. no expectations. think, dream, read. quiet. If this were at all possible with a husband and two children in tow, I'd be all for it. The crux is that every DAY I desire alone, quiet time. I breathe better, I think more clearly, I am able to get a handle on things. I often attempt to do so before the house wakes, but I am finding that more and more difficult as the youngest member of the family is quite the alarm-clock preempt-er and has an internal sensor for that top-step-squeak.
And so, I retreat. Away from here, yes, but with no particular agenda there.
Yes, I needed a break. But we'll talk more about that when we get to the "why." ;)
