How To Do Nothing On A Writer Retreat
What happens when the important work is learning how to rest?
Thank you for reading Motherhood Minute! In case you missed it, the last newsletter covered writing prompts for the mom who doesn’t know what to write about. Today, I’m sharing about my weekend writing retreat turned “Chanel relearns how to function without a to do list and simply enjoys the companionship of her husband”…but that’s a bit long of a title.
Encouragement For The Mother Not Writing
The Power of Words in Motherhood “Writing is best seen as a lifelong lab experiment, where one can either play and delight in the process of trial and error or hide away their work into an unshared notebook of mere data collection. We must ask if we think the world ought to know and be inspired by our work, or if it was meant to be lost outside of ourselves.”
I woke up at 3 am. I’ve never slept well outside of my own bed but I was surprised by it this morning. My lower back aches and I have restless legs multiplied by ten. The pins and needles feeling I’ve experienced the better part of a year is back, which means my body is reacting to something — I suspect the sugar-free, organic, no additive dark chocolate bar I tried.
Unrefined coconut sugar, yes, that is probably the culprit. There are a bunch of sneaky ways food suppliers add things that cause inflammation in any ready-made or shelf-stable product. Sugar, dairy, gluten, or (my current favorite find) corn.
Last week I had a pain flare up thanks to an organic four ingredient tomatillo salsa, which had corn meal added into it. I’m not sure why they added it nor why I overlooked it. If I am being honest with myself, I’ll admit I saw the organic dark chocolate bar did have unrefined coconut sugar listed and ate the small two pieces anyways.
I’d also be honest saying I had no idea corn-product was in that salsa or that corn was an inflammatory food according to my prescribed MITO food plan. It now seems obvious despite the blind folded buying.
It’s easy to over look obvious things when you are overwhelmed and hungry.
By 4:15 am I’ve had the luxury of drinking hot coffee and reading from Psalms without disruption. We (Joey and I) have left my daughter in the hands of my parents for three days.
We took the long drive down Highway 101 through Washington State’s forests and less-populated towns, continuing through wetlands and marshes until we arrived at the Pacific Ocean.
We walked around the old Fort Columbia artillery battery and wondered what it must have been like to wait there, some higher rank officers living with their families in houses on top of the cliffs, building an underground bunker with eyes on the horizon, where the Columbia River meets the Pacific. Would enemy ships ever break over the bar, where fresh water and salt water meet in 40-foot waves? After taking 50 years to complete, the battery was deemed obsolete.
We drove to Astoria, Oregon afterwards, traveling across the too-long bridge to visit the Maritime Museum. A painted red and white Coast Guard ship was framed by a bright blue sky. I don’t have any interest in boating unless I’m on a vessel.
When I was 13 —the last and only summer I turned tan and blonde before becoming a highschool freshman — I went to Oahu, Hawaii. My dad was stationed there with the Navy and my parents gifted me the experience of learning to sail that summer. The names of the boat’s mechanics, knots, and manuevers have long been removed by my memory and replaced with what a toddler might want to do on a rainy day.
What remains is the knowledge of what rope feels like in my calloused palms and the wetness of boat seats with hot sun on my shoulders. I still feel the surprising mental and physical fortitude of being tossed from a sailboat dingy, swimming to the other side and pulling DOWN, sometimes multiple times until your body can dump itself into the boat, and the feeling of being smacked in the back of the head when tropical winds shift last minute and you capsize again.
I am blessed to know the feeling of warm breezes drying matted braids and stiff seawater starched clothes clinging to my athletic teenage body, as dolphins pop up to swim alongside our motorsailer. There were overnight expeditions with inky skies and stars brighter than what a city would offer. I still cannot recall how to tie a bowline knot.
The Maritime Museum also had an exhibit full of old maps, some drawn in the 1400 and 1500s, some left behind by the Lewis and Clark exhibition this area is known for hosting.
Within the museum was a room full of Japanese flags covered in ink writings. Before going off to war, families would sign these yosegaki hinomaru as a good-luck token. In WW2 many American soldiers took these back to their own country. Years later children and grandchildren have discovered these flags, sent them to the museum, and an organization has sent them back to their original families in Japan. The video of a brother being reunited with his older brother’s yosegaki hinomaru made me weep.
Our vacation house is located in Pillar Rock, which is on the Washington side of the Columbia River and is 45 minutes deep into the rural area of country roads. The tree-lined cliff breaks open to reveal a trail to the beach.
The first thing we noticed was the silence outdoors. Slamming the car door felt like a tin garbage can falling on the ground. We were disturbers of the peace.
I wanted to write all day but spent most of the time in our quiet refuge learning how to not be productive and how to stand the quiet. For months I have been complaining about the noise in my life as a working mom to a three year old. This was the first time in … a long time that I had opportunities to do nothing.
I read a book.
I cooked meals with my husband.
We did a lot of nothing.
In my youth (not that 32 is old but it is a life away from my 13 year old self), I had a different concept of adventure. This weekend adventure looked like silence, guilt-free napping, and standing in a field of daisies with my husband.
Things To Know
You will learn how to treat yourself with compassion in mind, body, and spirit during this virtual event October 11, 2024!
The 2024 Mental Health & Motherhood Virtual Conference will feature live-streamed speakers with backgrounds in clinical psychology and health, Q&A sessions, and a pre-recorded Yoga Session. You’re going to come into the event and feel like your community has been waiting to hold space for you.
To support the 2024 Mental Health & Motherhood Virtual Conference, you can pre-register as an event advocate/sponsor.
By becoming a Founding Member ($50 USD) at Motherhood Minute, you’ll receive:
•a ticket to the event as an attendee
•a VIP video call with one of our lead speakers and Chanel (that’s me!).
• your name and Substack publication mentioned as an advocate for the event in all conference specific emails and on the event website for ticket sales.
**If you would like to sponsor at a higher level, email hello@chanelriggle.com for information.
This piece left me feeling like you were just getting started. I wanted to keep reading about your relationship with the silence and nature and peace within itself. Thank you for sharing!
I love how our concept of adventure can change over time. Your line here resonated a lot! ......"This weekend adventure looked like silence, guilt-free napping, and standing in a field of daisies with my husband." Amen to that! LOL. :))