TRY SOLITUDE By Angela G. Slevin

As a teen, I spent many summers in the mountains at my grandmother’s home. It was just a village, not big enough to be a town. For generations, my mother’s family had farmed in these mountains, cutting out fields step-style from the soil.

Living there for the summer seemed like camping to me, roughing it. No TV, no hot water, a toilet/shower/sink in one room with a drain in the floor. No washer or drier – laundry had to do be done by hand. No movie theater, no library, very few shops and those weren’t meant for browsing. They only really carried the necessities.

It was more boring than watching grass grow.

I didn’t know then that it was the perfect writer’s retreat. I don’t mean a retreat where you and a dozen other writers converge at a nice hotel where work hours for writing are 8 – 5 and meals can be had with or without company. Where perhaps in the evenings, a little gathering is organized for networking or talking about books. And there’s a TV right in your room, with dozens of channels. I mean a retreat from TV, from people, from fancy food and distracting fun places to visit.

I went on such a retreat years later, as an adult. The place I stayed was in the country, on farmland, and remote enough that even the nearest fast-food restaurant was 30 minutes away by car. I know that’s not really far, but when I’m hungry and tired, and it’s pitch black out in the country night, I would rather not venture out where I don’t know the roads. For about $65 a night, I got a bedroom with a comfortable full-sized bed, simple desk and chair, a box air conditioner, no TV or phone, and a bathroom shared with other guests. If I wanted meals, I had to buy groceries and cook, and wash up, too. If I didn’t bring it with me, I wouldn’t have it, at least not conveniently. I was provided with free coffee, though (writer fuel!), and the water from the artesian well was delicious and ice cold, perfect for a hot summer.

Some people might wonder why anyone would want to be all alone for days. Being alone is often used as punishment for bad behavior: being sent to your room, being grounded, having to stay inside the classroom at recess, being made to stand in a corner by yourself. Or being alone meant that you had no friends. By deliberately choosing a no-frills destination with no TV meant I couldn’t so much as watch the news in the morning or evening, a routine I had kept up since my twenties, in addition to knowing I would still have the chores of cooking and cleaning. So why did I choose solitude?

I really, really just wanted the world to shut up. I really, really just wanted to see what I could write when I focused completely.

I was not disappointed. Even with interruptions like meals and showers, I still wrote for at least 8 hours a day, every day. Some days it was from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. and some days it was more like 11 a.m. to midnight. I slept when I was tired, and when I awoke, I wrote or gazed out the skylight in meditation. I even had time to research and catch up on my reading for fun. I explored the flower garden and rocked on the front porch. I browsed the bookshelves that were in every common room, and was charmed by hummingbirds at the feeder. But without any responsibilities, errands or distractions, I could actually quiet my mind, and it was easier than I expected. I created my story arc, developed my characters, thought quietly or out loud, and spread out my index cards on the floor with no fear of their being eaten by the dog or otherwise disturbed. I outlined almost an entire novel in just three days.

After I returned home, life got in the way. Finding focused time to continue writing was almost impossible with young kids, a husband, dogs, and work.  But I’d visit my story, sometimes adding only a few sentences, I’d sit with my characters, dream up another conflict or a different plot twist, and now I am carving out time to continue writing “My Big Novel.” Maybe I need another retreat for a few days. Winter time hotel rates on the coast are pretty good. Maybe this time, I’ll forego cooking and go to a restaurant to people-watch for inspiration. Maybe I’ll do a day long retreat at a coffee shop or bistro. Maybe I’ll visit one of my favorite local libraries.

Or maybe I’ll sit in my car by the water and let the view inspire me. My spot is never very crowded, and I’d like it to stay that way, so I’m not sharing its name. Just a few preparations, like sandwiches, water and a caffeinated drink, and I’d be set, at least for a few hours.

Try solitude. It’s not loneliness; solitude is freedom. It gives you time to remember what you want from life, not what you’re supposed to want. The creativity that can spring from solitude is amazing, and you can start small. Write down a word that you like, or a few sentences for a scene, or a conversation between characters. Maybe it’s a conversation you would like to have with someone you know. And you don’t have to spend hundreds of dollars to enjoy a writer’s retreat. You don’t have to be away from home for a long time. You can take control of the hours in the day and the dollars in your pocket at any time and change direction. Add a new facet to your life. Have a little adventure. A change will do you good!