retreat-ing
I’m just back from a quilting retreat – my very first one, hosted by the Maritime Modern Quilt Guild – and I’ve been thinking about the similarities (and differences) between quilting and writing retreats.
Planning in advance
Like my guildmates, I spent many hours planning for the retreat. For a pantser like me, that’s hard, because usually I just like to work my way into the materials, following the muse and the fabric as they lead me forward. But for a retreat to really work well, materials need to be ready, and projects need to be well defined. I printed and printed and printed fabric (and then printed some more). And then I cut and cut and cut (and cut some more). And then I drew some very basic outlines of what I had planned, and slipped everything into ziploc bags to keep it all straight and organized (at this point, anyone who knows me is probably reaching forward to put their hand against my forehead to test my temperature because all of this is completely unlike me!).
I do some of this, too, for writing retreats: I research in advance and print out drafts that I’m planning on working on. I make sure I have all my “tools” ready, not just my computer but also my markers, notebooks, scissors, sticky notes, tape, and blank paper.
Multiple Projects
I brought four different projects with me to the quilting retreat. One was almost finished, one was an ‘easy win’, and two were brand new. I was able to move between projects as energy waxed and waned. Tired of one? Move to the next. Inspiration flagging? Switch it up. Absolutely overwhelmed by the big project I brought? Transition over to the quick and easy win.
I’m not always as good at managing this when I plan for writing retreats; I tend to dive in deep to a single project. But I think I’ll open things out for my next writing retreat. I’ll also make sure to have clear boundaries between the projects, so that it’s clear when I’m switching gears.
Remembering I have a body
This is a hard one. Both stitching and writing require long periods of time in (relatively) static positions. And when I go deep, I can completely forget to move, because I’ll completely forget anything and everything outside of my immediate focus. And that means I’ll also completely forget I have a body. While that can be good for my projects, because the synapses are singing and zinging, it’s not so great for…. my neck, my shoulders, my arms, my jaw, my legs, my feet…. my whole body, really.
Move, move, move. Stretch. Walk. Breathe. And rest, rest, rest at the end of long days, and if possible, on the days following a retreat (one of my guildmates pre-planned a day off from work for Monday, just to make sure he could rest).
Meals
The last thing I want to do when I’m in the zone is think about making meals. My hotel booking included a solid breakfast. There were fridges and microwaves in the rooms and a grocery store just around the corner (and a lovely library about 15 minutes’ walk away – filled with lovingly crafted word-food!). When I got home on Sunday, there was corn chowder (yum!) on the stove, thanks to my husband.
Also, remember that chocolate is a food group (certainly a favourite among my quiltmates!)
Brain teasers
Quilt retreat organizers had planned a number of small games and activities that took place throughout our 2.5 days together. Spaced out at regular intervals, these gave us a chance to learn new things and also, to be silly together. We were able to switch gears for a bit, which gave us more energy when we got back to our own projects. This isn’t something I’ve built into my writing retreats, but I think I should, and while writing prompts are an obvious starting point, I’m running through a range of ideas for short breaktime activities that make me smile and play more.
Challenge yourself
This seems self evident, because a retreat, by its very nature, is a challenge. It’s already a move beyond my comfort zone. But just as it’s important to have a ‘quick and easy win’ (for me, it was a simple messenger bag; pattern link in the image description below), it was also important to try out things that I’d never ever tried before: a retreat is a chance to really focus in, and what better opportunity to try something I’d never felt quite confident about? My main new challenge – making a messenger bag – was also my quick and easy win. Apart from an easy tote or two and some gift bags, I haven’t spent much time working on bags, so I stretched myself, but not too far: I chose a bag pattern marked as easy (a way to get your kids involved in sewing, the description said. lol). I can definitely see the ‘challenge yourself’ approach working well in a writing retreat situation as well: Maybe I could dedicate some time to a new skill. Maybe play with a new form. Maybe explore new textures or new colours. Maybe new words. Maybe I could experiment with space in different ways, or with rhythms. Maybe ….
Peopling
The biggest difference, for me, between a quilting retreat and a writing retreat is people. A total of 29 quilters took part in the retreat (almost half our guild members!) and usually, when I’m writing retreating, I’m on my own or with one or two other people I know really well.
I’m somewhat socially awkward and always an introvert, and when I get into retreat brain, I can focus so deeply into the square space immediately in front of me that I forget there is anything or anyone else around me. In a group setting like our quilting retreat, I need to work actively to remember that I’m in a social space, and to remember that this means interacting with others. It’s not that I don’t like chatting with others; I absolutely do! It’s that unless I am thinking actively about it, I will forget that conversation is part of being in community (and then I’ll just come across as rude or obnoxious without even meaning to). I don’t know that I always get that balance right, and I don’t know that I always ask the right or the most appropriate questions, but it’s something I need to pay attention to when I’m working in group space.
Because I am someone who likes (read: needs) quiet, and because I can find social environments exhausting, I made sure to book my own room (rather than look for someone to share with), so that at the end of the day, I could just be …. a blob. The moral of this part of the story is: know yourself and know what you need.
That said, there were also many benefits to working in and with community: I got to know my guildmates better, both as individuals and as creatives. I have a better sense of what interests them, and how our lives both intersect and don’t, and that will make for richer conversations at our monthly meetings.
Working alongside others also meant I had a built-in cheering section: when the going got tough (trimming 200+ 3-inch half-square triangles, anyone?), I could chat my way through the hard bits (I got them done!). When energy was flagging, there was an activity. When people discovered they’d cut or stitched something wrong or their machines were cranky, there was always someone around with scraps, ideas, advice, or commiseration. When people finished projects, there were many compliments. And there were always opportunities to smile and laugh.
My deepest thanks to the Maritime Modern Quilt Guild retreat organizing committee for everything they did to make this fabulous weekend happen. I’ll look forward to the next one, and maybe this pantser will even start planning her 2025 projects now (hah! fat chance)…
Onwards to December, when I get to spend a glorious week at Jampolis Cottage, writing alongside a good friend. Will I bring some stitchery to accompany my writing?
Absolutely.