I’m sitting in this room filled with comfy chairs, couches, tables, plants, with light streaming in from the river everywhere. The sun is with us today. It’s silent in this room perfectly set for writers and we writers are taking full advantage of our last morning together. Our numbers have lowered a bit from last night’s start but flexible is always a key factor in events for teacher-writers.
Yes, everyone needs the opportunity to get away for a retreat, but some are called back to their worlds sooner- kids, husbands, work… and we keep the door open- welcoming and waving good-bye. In fact I’ll be leaving before the final author’s chair because Tuvia is waiting patiently for me and I can’t say no.
I should be writing a new piece but honestly, I’m living a bit with the piece I was working on last night. It’s an old piece I started thinking about again- why I still shut the door around 6PM on a good night, pick up my guitar, reluctantly at first, and dive into my pieces. Why is it so vital to me to struggle on, to take a stab at pieces that the greats play?
But for now I’m leaving that piece and just writing this Slice to capture a moment in my exhaustion, where I often write best, sharing what it means to be a writer, writing socially, publicly with a group of teacher-writers I have come to know and love. Yup, it’s love.
I look up at Rebecca and Kathy and Christine and Dawn and Jenny and Jackie, and Karen and new teacher consultants I haven’t worked with as much-Patty and Kim, and I’m grateful that we are together on this Sunday morning to write together in this amazing space, in this inspiring silence.
I am so lucky to be alive right here, right now!