Monthly Archives: April 2013

Moms and Daughters writing together

Roxanne Sadovsky is calling all mothers and daughters to join her for a writing together retreat brunch!

Mother-Daughter Writing Retreat Brunch

Saturday May 4, 2013

10 am-3 pm


Do you know what your mother’s favorite color is? What does your daughter like most about work or school? Does she prefer to go barefoot? What are her wildest dreams? Am I really turning into her?

When was the last time you spent some quality time with mom? Join other mothers, daughters, granddaughters, stepmothers, and in-laws in any combination on a special retreat dedicated to nurturing, reconnecting, and celebrating the maternal bond.  Whether you seek a day of creative fun with other mothers and daughters as you discover new ways of building a more meaningful relationship, or simply a few relaxing hours to wax nostalgic about old stories and memories, you’ll discover how writing together connects mothers and daughters of all ages, backgrounds, generations, and legends. All are welcome!

For more info, email Rox at or check our her website:


Retreat from community

As I mentioned to a friend yesterday, I feel like someone has kicked the puzzle of my life and loosened some pieces. The writing piece, the yoga piece, the strength training piece, the running piece, the eating healthy food in reasonable amounts piece. Detached and scattered about willy-nilly. Luckily, the central pieces concerning husband, kids, and home are secure.

Still, without those other pieces, I start to disassemble. Slowly, but surely, I get cranky, sad, sleepy, exhausted, and anxious. I know where that heads if I don’t take care of myself and start putting those pieces back into place.

Communities are vital and all the social interaction can be exciting and fulfilling. But sometimes, especially for an introvert, being in community is overwhelming and exhausting, not at all restorative. Even when that community is only one’s immediate family, the need to get away is powerful. Time and space out of community is often essential to refresh the resources needed to return as a positive participant in communities.

When a quiet evening reading a book in a coffee shop isn’t enough, I go on retreat to a hermitage. I go to the woods to a one-room cabin with no plumbing or electricity. Gas heats the room and the tea kettle. I sit in a rocking chair, a knit blanket over my legs, cup of tea in hand,  looking out a picture window at the trees, squirrels, and occasional deer. I listen only to the wind and my body. Walk when I want to walk, eat when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired, write when I am compelled. Gaze out the window for hours, if I so choose. No time, but the sun. No obligations, but to be present.

For four days and three nights, I will remain in silence and solitude. If I cross paths with anyone, we will nod and continue on our way. This is desert time. The only noise will be the clattering in my mind the first day, after which, I will relearn stillness. I will relearn patience. I will relearn kindness.

Silence, solitude, stillness. I long for these as water. Soon. Soon.