(Do) I Need a Writer's Retreat (?)

As I mentioned earlier, we had a 10-day holiday recently. I had seriously considered using it for a writer’s retreat but travel and experience won against my need to write (like always).

In the past few months, I have been dreaming of unfettered time. Time not filled with work, cooking, cleaning, planning. Time where I can really just write.

I have this mythical ideal of the retreat as panacea to my writing woes. I have built up this sacred space that exists in my head (and possibly in real life as seen through varied retreats’ websites) that will heal my current writing problems.

I am realistic. I know that it’s a dream. I know that I need to make that unfettered time for myself. To prioritize myself and my writing over all the other responsibilities that I choose to have in my life.

I just want a room with a view. Food served to me. A community that I can join if I so choose to or solitude if I so choose that. Walks in nature. Bare feet in grass or sand. Sand, preferably. And time.

A woman can dream, right?