A few weeks back, I was sitting with a warm breeze blowing on my face, hinting that the warm breeze was quickly becoming a hot breeze. The forecast indicated it would hit 100 degrees soon. The light wind was rustling through the peach orchard I was surrounded by while I occasionally swatted at gnats landing on my shoulder. The air was hot but clean and fresh, with hints of fresh-cut grass. I felt at peace. I didn't have any chores to use as an excuse to get in the way of my writing. I didn't have other "job" responsibilities because my out-of-office auto-response was on, and I was technically off that week. I was strategically not responding to emails I knew were in my inbox because I was "off." I noticed that I was consciously not checking social media either, which was not the easiest but doable.

I was on a solo retreat in the beautiful town of Palisades, CO. It's Colorado's wine country, with vineyards and peach orchards, cherries, and other produce. The town itself is small and quaint. My husband bought me this little 4-day, three-night Airbnb as a Christmas present so I could get some creative alone time. I have been trying to carve out time to spend on writing, creating social media posts for my business, and coming up with the outline for a group coaching program I would like to launch sometime in the next six months, but I have been struggling to make the time happen. Being creative is such a joy, and I get a lot of pleasure out of it. Yet I find it ever so difficult to tap into that way of being long enough to produce anything creative. I allow so many other "things" to distract me from the task because it takes me work to move into that space. It also takes vulnerability, time, softening of my usual way of being, and stepping outside my comfort zone. So, I allow chores and other household things to distract me. I let all the other responsibilities I place on myself for the other jobs I do get in the way. I allow TV and movies, my cats, phone calls with friends and family, grocery shopping, and so much more to come before I allow myself the quiet time to reflect, write, draw, ponder, and dream.

As a little girl, I was very creative. I loved to draw, dance, and sing. I was a true performer - creating little living room dance performances for my parents to watch. My sister and I played with such imagination; we lived in many different worlds in a short afternoon. In high school, I fell in love with creative writing. I even had a few short stories and poems published in compilation publications. However, somewhere along the way, I stopped. I obtained a narrative about myself that while I enjoyed dancing, writing, and drawing, I was never really that talented, just an amateur. Suddenly I found tapping into creative ideas became hard and scary. I struggled with criticism and negative feedback on my creative work. I could take constructive feedback in a professional setting. Yet, when I put my heart and soul into something more personal/creative, constructive feedback felt like a personal attack that I struggled to process appropriately and within the proper context (or spirit) in which the feedback was given. So, I stopped putting myself out there. And I missed it ever since.

My first marriage was an unhealthy relationship, filled with moments of gaslighting, put-downs, and toxicity. I received the messaging that I was less than and couldn’t focus on what I wanted to do, but rather on what others thought I should do. I do not know why I believed this message, but I came to believe it over time.

• I was too much (emotionally).

• I was not creative enough to make a difference or for anyone to care.

• I need to stay in my lane.

• I was excellent at what I did in my corporate job – great manager, caring for my employees, and making shit happen for my company, but that was it. I was a great follower and learned to be a great leader within the confines of my job. But outside of that, I needed to follow, not lead.

• I needed to stay small.

So, I did….until I found Zumba. I became a Zumba Fitness instructor in 2010. That single activity helped me tap back into my body and my love of movement, dance, and music. It gave me an outlet to step into the creative world again, creating routines, inspiring students, and finding my voice again. I also found a community of like-minded, dancing friends. It was a stepping stone to coming back to myself, rebuilding my sense of worth and value, and gaining confidence again to follow my path, which eventually led me (through many ups and downs, the ins and outs) to my passion for coaching.

Why am I sharing this? Because I still struggle to tap into my creative attributes after these 13 years from when I found Zumba to now and to share what feels so naked and raw. It still is easier for me to list all the reasons why I have trouble, all the things I "have" to do that get in my way, and the lack of time. It is hard for me to admit I get intimidated and scared (true imposter syndrome symptom, for sure). I unconsciously placed all those things in my way as obstacles so I could fall back on them as reasons for why I “just couldn’t” get there.

A few short years ago, I met my friend, Lydia. She is a fantastic human being and has been a wonderful friend over the last few years. One weekend I hit her up and she wasn't available. When she called me back a few days later, she told me about this solo retreat she went on. She took herself out to the middle of nowhere in Idaho and meditated, did yoga by herself, journaled, reflected, and did whatever other ritual she had in mind to help her with whatever she was looking for. Six months later, she did it again. I was shocked. No way - I couldn’t ever do that. How scary! I hate being alone. But man, when she would get back, she always had beautiful insights and ideas to share and implement in her Psychotherapy practice and in her life as a wife and as a friend.

These past 18 months have been hard for me to get back to myself after so much change (a move, an expansion of my husband and my apparel company, changes in our families, etc.). I lost focus and momentum in building my coaching business, which felt awful. I was starting to lose confidence too. I wanted to return to what I was creating because it gave me such joy. I enjoyed helping others. I loved how much energy it gave me to be in relationship and support others. I also realized that the pleasure it gave me also helped me tap into my creative side. I missed that. I had to stop putting everything in the way of what I wanted the most. With inspiration and encouragement from Lydia and the support and encouragement from my husband, I started thinking about a solo retreat. Now, six months later, I did it. And I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunities. It was relaxing and addictive. I tried not to set major expectations from the retreat but rather practice being rather than doing. If I felt inspired to write, I wrote. If I felt inspired to move, I moved (I had my bike and a yoga mat with me). If I felt inspired to nap, I napped (I never actually slept, but I did rest a lot, which was interesting in its own way). 

I had three items on my list that I want to come out of this retreat – some writing on potential blog articles to share (like this one), some social media posts to ponder, and a possible outline for group coaching. And if I walked away with none of those, I was okay with that too. Simply going on this retreat, facing myself alone, and being with me again, was the true gift and outcome I desired.

If you could have 4-days, three nights alone, surrounded by nature, what would you desire from that experience?

And would you be willing to try?

This retreat was what was needed for me at the moment, and it took some loving support and intention from others to help me see that for myself. I am so grateful for those who support me when I don't even realize I need it.