This week my cousin shared a story. While visiting my grandmother’s farm she rang a bell she found. Mid-day. Grandma only rang the bell when it was time to milk the cows. Early morning and just before sunset. The confused cows came running. My grandmother gave my cousin a scolding she never forgot.
Everything has its time. (Ecclesiastes 3)
Timing is everything.
I attended a funeral last week. The man died days short of reaching 94 years old. I sat contemplating all this man must have seen and done. All I have seen and done. How a lifetime becomes brief.
We are born reaching, striving, learning, obtaining. Moving forward to an unknown future. At first our family helps us stand, walk and point us in a direction. Others do as well. But we desire to break free. Do things on our own. Go our own way. Until we find ourselves, in our old age, sitting and contemplating about the things we have seen and done. Turning back, not looking forward. Hoping everyone you have known will remember you long after death. Asking yourself, will they cherish that which you have accomplished?
This man’s funeral, small as it was, came and went. As many do. Just as his life has. Just as yours and mine will. Just like the characters in my novel. Despite our best intentions and wishes we have no control on this outcome.
I have found, through research for my historical fiction, that men and women alike desire to be remembered. Even their loved ones desire that the deceased is not forgotten. That is one reason there are so many huge tombstones. May, also, explain why there is more personal characterization in a library book than a museum. Especially if the book is written by a relative. But it is the past.
The elderly man’s funeral I attended was graced by his grandson’s tribute to his character. He expressed valued memories. He insured that his grandfather will not be forgotten any time soon.
That is all we ask for. That is all I ask for. That is all I hope for when I write. That the life given will not quickly fade away.
I don’t know if my title needs an exclamation point or a question. This was my year to explore the possibilities of writing retreats. Perhaps, even attend one. But, due to an unforeseen pandemic, they are hard to find. Thus, a question mark may be more appropriate.
So, I have been thinking of doing a personal writing retreat. Setting time aside. Making a space (outside of my writing space) to write. Planning activities that promote clarity of mind and creativity. I think this is doable.
The thing it lacks is community. So, is there pod casts out there I can add? Virtual classes to stimulate the mind? Sure there are. But which ones would be best?
What would you suggest? How would you go about making a personal writing retreat?
Katherine Murie Webster