Tag: Elizabeth Gilbert

embracing enchantment: lessons from the Big Magic Retreat

I just returned from the Big Magic Retreat in Cleveland, Georgia with the brilliant writer and one of my all-time favorites, Elizabeth Gilbert. The retreat was a birthday gift from Daniel, and what a gift it turned out to be. I met phenomenal women from all over the country – Hawaii, California, Ohio, Georgia.

We learned new mindfulness practices to help center my intentions for creative work, moved my body in new ways thanks to the African Movement dance class, threaded together beads and string in the ancient japa mala technique, walked and sat in nature amid crisp Fall air, managed to get quiet and still, and reconnected with my inner child thanks to the rustic sleep-away camp setting.

The experience introduced me to a new layer of myself and generously filled my cup. I have begun submitting query letters to potential agents and am anxious/freaked/energized to be able to introduce my debut novel to professionals in the industry.  One of them will be my agent who guides me through the journey of publishing and sharing my work with the world.  What a magical realization! 

The process of pitching my manuscript is thrilling and humbling, filled with equal parts rejection, terror, opportunity, and hope at every turn. Speaking of hope, I hoped this retreat would fuel me with renewed curiosity and confidence to do this “brutiful” thing (to quote Glennon and Amanda Doyle) of putting my work out there for critics to consume. And it did exactly that. 

Now that I’m back home, I have recommitted myself to daily quiet in scripture, blank paper, prayer and meditation. For my meditation this morning, I chose to sit on my patio rug and listen to the Ignatian Saturday Examen prayer, which invites you to reflect on the previous week and the guidance you seek for the week ahead.

Then I transitioned to the Daily Trip meditation led by Jeff Warren. The theme today was about tapping into a state of wonder, imagining that you were born in this moment and experiencing breathing for the first time. What would you notice? What would you see?

I rounded my back and let go of my posture, completely relaxing into my seated position. I imagined being able to see my lungs inflate and deflate in their real, anatomical shapes. Then I imagined them as a single round balloon inflating and deflating inside me. Then, the clearest visual came to me as I sat and breathed.

A butterfly. Its wings displayed an intricate pattern of purple, white, black, and gold. They flapped slowly up and down in rhythm with my breath. All around the butterfly was inky black night, yet the butterfly was lit by brilliant sunlight.

As thoughts and distractions arose, as they inevitably do each time during meditation, I checked back in with the butterfly and found it still perched inside me but keeping its position with some difficulty now.  Its wings were now rippling as if in an unseen wind.  Then, as I recentered my focus on its movement, the wind ceased, and the butterfly’s wings began to gently rise and fall, once again safe and secure to be there and dance. I smiled and opened my eyes.

This meditation was a beautiful reminder that the moments in our lives of pure tranquility are often fleeting and fragile. I am grateful I was able to round my body in stillness this morning and for a moment, observe, reflect, and just be present to beauty. Elizabeth Gilbert calls moments like these “enchantment” – where you find yourself in “the warm, vanilla pudding hum of wonder and well-being” grateful you were there, in that moment, aware and present to the experience.

One of the journaling exercises we did at the retreat was to write a letter from our enchantment, using the prompt: “Dear _____, I am your enchantment, and this is what I want you to know. I love it when…” and then begin each sentence with “I love it when” and see what came up.  

I’ll jump to the end and share that my letter from enchantment ended with “I love that we had this conversation and that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

… and this morning, see each other we did. 🦋

syncing with my sandbox

We’re in Key West for our annual long weekend, celebrating my husband’s birthday. Today is Thursday, the first full day of our trip. This time, we drove down early morning on Wednesday and are staying through Monday, planning to arrive to work later that morning or mid day.

Our annual travel tradition aligns with my husband’s birthday, but it is also a gift for me.  The gift of time, the gift of being away, the gift of no plans other than the occasional dinner reservation. In the past several years, I’ve spent most of my solo time here working on my novel.  I am happy to report that I have submitted my manuscript to an editor in Paris and am awaiting feedback (eek!). While I wait to hear news, I am left for the first time in years with long days in Key West, free to do anything of my choosing or nothing at all. 

Once we checked in to Bob’s Place at Ambrosia House on Fleming (our home away from home), my guy, our pup and I walked to First Flight on Whitehead Street for margaritas and wings, our first stop each time we arrive on island. Then we came back, took a dip in the pool, enjoyed an afternoon snooze, and then headed to Alonzo’s Oyster House for happy hour dinner. Pub fries, smoked fish dip, shrimp tacos, and a dozen oysters on the half shell, washed down with a glass of chilled rose. We closed out the evening with a beer at Half Shell’s Raw Bar, a jaunt we’ve frequented for the past 20 years, since my very initial introduction to Key West in July 2002 to visit my then boyfriend who was clerking at a law firm for the Summer and playing music in Mallory Square for extra cash. We chatted with Joe and Michele, bartenders for the past 22 and 24 years, respectively, and shared our many memories of sitting at that same bar year after year. Michele made me promise to bring my 2003 photo album by when we’re next in town. We then called it an early night so my favorite angler could gear up for fishing day one of three. 

My husband rose at 4 am this morning, packed his quintessential items — cans of Modelo, cigars, lox/capers/onion on an everything bagel scooped and toasted for breakfast on the boat ride out and a lunch wrap with egg salad (made fresh by yours truly), lettuce and tomato with pringles on the side — and biked to Garrison Bight to board the flats skiff owned by Lenny Leonard, his guide and friend for more than a decade. They pulled away from the dock at 5 am sharp, and I received a text from my guy by 7:30 am saying they had boated a 100-pound tarpon on fly, reenergizing his addiction to tight lines.

The text woke me up, and I was pleased to be awakened by such happy news. After a quick walk to the public library so my pup could pee on her rare patch of grass, I ate the resort’s brown bag breakfast in bed, enjoyed some quiet time, and then went back to sleep until 11:30 am. As I said, this trip is a gift that allows me to rest and truly restore. I then walked my fuzzy girl down to the docks, listened to a podcast episode, and talked with two groups of sailors – one aboard a Beneteau Oceanis 50 and the other aboard a custom live-aboard designed by Charlie Payne. I took the long way home, enjoying brief respites from the harsh sun in the shade of the frangipani and palm trees lining the streets of Old Town Key West.  Once back at Bob’s Place, I changed into my swimsuit and hit the pool with a couple of High Noons, a new book, and my earbuds. 

My husband returned around 3:45 this afternoon. He and Lenny boated their one tarpon early in the morning and then got several other bites. After nearly an hour of not spotting a fish, they decided to call it a day and rest up for the two more full days ahead. He is now upstairs napping with our pup and resting up for dinner. I’m in the pool enjoying my lazy day and reflecting on advice shared in the podcast this morning.

Elizabeth Gilbert, famed author of Eat, Pray, Love, is a close friend of Glennon Doyle, host of my favorite podcast, “We Can Do Hard Things”.  EG came on the podcast for a two-episode interview, celebrating the podcast’s one-year anniversary. (Funny enough, I started listening to the pod at week one, when I was here in Key West last year on this same annual getaway for Daniel’s birthday.) A caller named Lolly was having trouble moving past a betrayal by her best friend. She said that the friend kept showing up in her dreams as a constant reminder that their friendship had not had any closure. The woman said she was desperate to move on and let the friend go. While I am thankfully not in a similar situation, the advice that EG gave for moving forward is universally helpful to all people trying to be the best versions of themselves, me included. Here’s a brief excerpt from the transcript:

“My experience is that if I focus my attention on good orderly direction, healthy activities for myself, taking care of my inner little, going to sleep at the right times, nourishing my life in all ways. If I pay attention to those things, then eventually something happens behind my back and those obsessions dissolve… I can’t manufacture the end to that story, but I can turn it over to a higher power and then do what I can to nourish myself. And one day I look up and I notice I haven’t thought about that person in a month. And so what I would do, if I were counseling you, is that I would make a list of top-line behaviors: 10 things that you do that are really good for you, whatever those might be. And then every day, look at that list and try to live in those top lines. And live as much as you can in those top lines, because that’s all I am in control of. That is really all I am in control of. I’m not in control of anything else. And be willing to let time do its good work and let time do it for you, rather than you trying to do it.”

Yes, Liz, yes! When I have battled anxiety in the form of racing thoughts unable to sit still in my own skin, it is only when I lovingly but firmly committed to doing the things I knew were good for me, that make me happy and grounded, that those unhealthy, negative and brooding thoughts slow down and make space for more good stuff in between. I love how EG articulated that connection while also giving it structure, explaining that when we are living in integrity with ourselves doing the things we know make us feel most aligned with our true and best selves, we will stop focusing on the things we can’t control by finding ourselves among the only things we can – our own actions. Her advice inspired to create my own list of top-line behaviors, or what I am calling my sandbox tools – the behaviors that create space for me to find and be me.

My Sandbox Tools

  1. Spending time outside among nature, preferably in the presence of those I love
  2. Getting 8 hours of sleep
  3. Moving my body – exercise, dancing, swimming…
  4. Drinking plenty of water and eating fresh foods
  5. Getting still and quiet
  6. Reading good books
  7. Journaling
  8. Swinging in a hammock, preferably near a body of water
  9. Creating – writing, designing, inventing…
  10. Paying attention to beautiful experiences with lingering curiosity – the taste of an exquisite meal, the points of light in a painting, the unique characteristics of each sunrise/set, the smooth motion of a satellite moving across a night sky, the shimmering dance of the moon on the surface of an inky ocean, the soft crinkles around my mother’s eyes when she laughs, candlelight flickering on the plates of a fine table setting, the sound of the breeze as it moves through palm fronds, sea foam fizzing across the tops of my feet…

It’s not lost on me that one of the many reasons Key West retains its magic year after year is because, when I am here, I tap in daily to nearly all of my top-line behaviors. I enjoy beautiful experiences, pay close attention to my curiosities, rest, read, journal, meditate, swim, dance, create, and spend time with those I love. In other words, I find my sandbox and get in sync with its rhythm that only I can identify and move freely within. I imagine that’s why time spent here always feels like hitting the reset button, like an opportunity to recharge and reconnect with my best self. 

Now, rather than pack my sandbox tools away until next time, I must remember EG’s advice – to pull them out and use them, every day. That is how I will find and stay connected to my best self. On the island, on the mainland, and everywhere in between.