I’ll be the first to admit, I am a city girl. Even though I made frequent summer visits to the country, ran and played in the thickest of trees at my godmother’s house as a child, I am a city girl through and through and have absolutely no shame in saying so. It’s no wonder the thought of traveling alone while Black through the hills of Oregon and Washington and staying overnight at an old red lodge built in 1892 in a small town close to the sea, and not knowing anyone there had my anxiety levels to the moon.
I tried talking myself out of it, asking myself questions like “Why did I agree to this, did I have anything worthwhile to offer” and wondering if there was a way to get out of the commitment. A dear friend reminded me that I’ve done a lot of meaningful writing while raising children and I’m actually the perfect person to lead. Her reinforcement coupled with the part of me that keeps my word and doesn’t operate in fear knew this was a trip I needed to make so I packed my suitcase with extra sheets, blankets, and towels…gassed up the car, cued up the GirlTrek podcast that another sister-friend suggested I tune into, and made the two and a half hour drive to my destination.
As I drove listening to Vanessa, Morgan, the special guests, and other women who called in to add to the morning prayer, I was captivated by the beauty that is the Pacific Northwest. The sun shined through the forest of evergreens warming me within. Cows lay in open fields. Eagles soared across the sky while farmhouses full of land covered by fallen orange and yellow leaves lined the perimeter of the highway and roads. A smile fixated on my face as I laughed at Vanessa and Morgan playing Voices of Fire’s song Joy (Unspeakable) featuring Pharrell Williams on repeat after each testimony. Lost in the scenery, time seemed to disappear. Not speeding, not stressing only being, embracing the quiet, prayer, my time to reflect, release, revive, away from the demands of home, work, running a non-profit arts organization, and dealing with different personalities, wants, and needs.
I arrived around dusk and checked into my room. Along the steps were antique teapots, at the top of the stairs stood a wooden desk with a typewriter on top. The room looked like something out of a horror film and smelled of mildew but I shook it off. After freshening up, I went outside to introduce myself to the founders of the retreat. They were kind and welcoming and I hit it off with one of them immediately. It’s a small town so we walked a few short blocks to the bar where we met up with other moms, laughing and getting to know one another. Most of us traveled that day, some five hours on a plane and then two hours to the lodge. We all agreed to call it a night and head back to our unique living quarters. Once we returned we sat in the common area listening to a resident artist from Brazil play guitar before bed. I was happy to stay inside the lodge with a restroom, running water, and kitchen opposed to the trailers outside with no restrooms. Not that it mattered because I’m almost certain I slept with one eye open.
Honestly, I just wanted to get out of that room. I’m an early riser. Being up at dawn didn’t really work for the 10:00pm to 8:00am quiet time so I washed up, dressed, and packed. The sun could not rise fast enough. When it finally did, I took my belongings to the car and enjoyed a few stolen moments in nature on top of the deck overlooking the entire lodge. In the silence, breaths of fresh air refreshed my soul and centered my mind preparing me to be in community with mothers who write.
As I entered the space, there was a group of diverse women from across the country sitting in a circle. A spirit of peace hugged me like a warm blanket or maybe it was my long soft sweater. Either way, I was glad to be there and better understood my assignment as one of the facilitators for that day, and why I needed to be there at that time with that group of mothers. It’s a brilliant concept, inviting women to bring their whole selves into the room and write what we know from a mother’s point of view. In my profession, I was never asked to bring my motherhood to work until this past year which is why I was very selective in what I chose to do. I’m just happy others are starting to realize the benefit of our experiences.
While leading the workshop, I mentioned driving over the rollercoaster bridge (at least that’s what it was in my mind) another mother immediately agreed it was quite a frightening and rather intimidating bridge to cross. As I traveled back home I could feel myself tensing up the closer I got to it. I was reminded of a valuable lesson I learned years ago. Sometimes we focus all of our energy on and are overwhelmed by the big picture because, for whatever reason, we want to get there so quickly that we forget to slow down and enjoy the ride. You see, I was enjoying the ride until this big obstacle appeared, and my anticipation of how gigantic it was overpowered my peace, creating an uneasiness inside. I decided to stop glancing at the bridge which I could see miles away and focus on what was in front of me. Before I knew it, Vanessa, Morgan, and the rest of the GirlTrek sisters were with me on the other side of that vast body of water. And with my shades on, I was back to enjoying the ride home. Even though I was there to inspire, encourage, and give them tools in their writing journey and hopefully, I did, I also left inspired, fulfilled, and ready.
Full-Time Woman 