I almost didn’t come.
Even though I had planned this little writing retreat for weeks, even though I knew I needed it, I kept finding reasons to postpone. There’s always something. A deadline. A kid’s schedule. A pile of laundry. The guilt that creeps in when I even think about putting myself first.
But I forced myself to show up anyway.
I carved out four days to be alone at a quiet cabin tucked by the lake. Just me, my dog Loki, my notebooks, and the space to slow down. Writing by the window, I overlook the still water and the sentinel-like pine trees that hold this place with a quiet kind of reverence. I feel nestled into the land here, as if it’s holding me too. It feels safe in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
Each morning, I’ve been working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, doing the daily morning pages she calls a “brain drain.” And that’s exactly what it feels like. A clearing out. A release. I’m so much more present, more focused, more creatively alive once I’ve let it all spill onto the page.
I’ve also been doing somatic breathwork, which has opened space for some powerful emotional releases—deep, unexpected, and healing. Something about the combination of breath, solitude, and writing has helped me tap into parts of myself I usually don’t have time or energy to hear.
And because The Artist’s Way encourages play, I took myself on an artist date yesterday to a little used bookstore, just for fun. No goals, no shopping list, just wandering and letting wonder lead. It was a blast.
All of this… every quiet walk, every page I write, every moment of stillness is something I almost didn’t give myself. It took more effort than I’d like to admit to say yes. But I did. And I’m proud of that.
✨ A Look at My Retreat Schedule
Who: Just me and my dog, Loki
When: Four days of PTO from my full-time job (what a luxury, and I’m so grateful)
Tuesday: Arrival Day
I picked up lunch on the way and listened to The Artist’s Way and Diary of a CEO in the car. When we arrived in the afternoon, I unpacked, got Loki some exercise, and did a bit of yoga to shake off the drive. Before the storm and cold front rolled in, I went for a swim in the lake—refreshing and a little wild. I ended the evening reading Andrea Gibson’s poetry and easing into The Artist’s Way.
Wednesday:
Loki woke me up early (of course). After a video call with my family, I settled into a slow morning with breakfast, hot coffee overlooking the water, and a breathwork session while rain tapped the windows. I took myself on an artist date to a town about 30 minutes away to visit a used bookstore and the local library. In the afternoon, I got pulled into work despite being on PTO. I had to consciously pull myself out of that headspace, return to the cabin, and start building my blog and website. The rest of the day was spent writing and grounding.
Thursday:
Another early start (Loki again). I made eggs and sourdough, and sipped coffee on the dock while watching steam rise off the smooth lake, eerie and peaceful all at once. I worked on blog posts, socials, and building my digital space until noon, then went for a run with Loki, hoping to wear him out (spoiler: I failed).
If you’re reading this and wondering whether you really need time away, let this be your sign.
Yes. You do. And you don’t need a cabin or four days or the perfect moment.
Start small:
What’s one thing you can do today to carve out space for yourself?
This week?
Could you plan even a few hours to step away, just for you?
You deserve to take up space.
To be quiet.
To breathe.
To come home to yourself again.