Mt. Madonna is behind me now; participants have dispersed. I'm certainly feeling the after effects, which feels like I've been shaken and stirred, poured into a snow globe. Now ordinary life is jiggling and turning everything up and down and back again. Molecules are settling, slowly, ideas are sifting, energy is up and down. It's a peculiar sensation.
The next step? I'll be retreating to the Lost Coast of Northern California to study writing and spend uninterrupted time far away from The Groove. Feels like adventure is afoot as well as plenty of serendipity. All I know is there's a river, a big kitchen, other writers, writing instructors/facilitators and a cabin to sleep in. Beyond that is where I'm flinging myself into the mosh pit of life. Well, my version of it anyway.
Compared to folks who literally do leap into a screaming pit of thrashing crazed dancers, this promises to be very quiet and serene. But, I'm excited anyway.
Time to gather my notebooks, pens, paperbacks and clothes and go away. It's likely I won't be blogging for a week as the camp has no computer access. But, I'm thinking handwriting might be a good idea for a while. Me without my Mac is probably a lot like someone without their double-shot tall latte; I might have to bring my Tylenol and take deep breaths. See? Already, the flinging into the pit is happening. Here I go!
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