But the Beach*

I would like to write a poem about the beach like it's just any other place.
But it seems impossible, unjustifiable.
Whatever I look at, whatever I hear or feel seems blissful.
Cloudy swirls in the slowly drifting brackish estuary,
flanking the aquabatics of the jumping silver fish creating his own rippling three ring spotlight.
As for the shoreline, forget it.
Broken pieces of pearlescent shells bejeweling the Gulf Coast sand,
hosting an organized scatter of ruddy turnstones pecking for a late morning snack.
A slick dome shaped shell, freckled in fine point black specks and tiny little fissures.
I tried to walk away, but of course the Gulf.
The innumerable hues of greens and blues in a perfect water color blend drew me in further.
My feet gently sunk into the silky wet sand as the salty water washed and cleansed me, setting my feet in deeper.
The foam where the water meets the sand, bathing the coast in champagne -like bubbles in celebration of all its glory.
So I tried to shut my eyes, but of course the beach.
I could hear the pushing and pulling of the tide and the gush of the flowing sea.
I heard the sound of the coastal breezes whirring around my ears and through my hair and the trees.
They seem to sing to me in prayer, giving me a message, a meaning, or saying nothing at all.
So special is the beach, who knows maybe it is sacred.
So special is the beach, who knows, maybe the sky above it is sacred too.
And the silver fish, and the mollusks and the ruddy turnstones,
and the sand and the sea, and me.
We are one and the same.
Sacred yet ordinary.

*This poem was written following a series of writing exercises at the 2nd Annual Women's Writing Retreat at Lover's Key. I used Mary Oliver's poem This World.

Love IS All Around Me

There is nothing in this world I love more than my family. I'll tell you what though, the beach and a women's writing retreat... lot's of lovin' going on here. The energy is high, the camaraderie is unmatched, and the writing so far has gone from tearjerking to pee-in-your-pants hilarious! And we're just one meal and two writing exercises in. The 2nd Annual Women's Writing Retreat is a celebration of a love of and for writing.  Don't be 'a writer.' Be writing. -William Faulkner

Gulf breezes and cocktails while dining seaside.
Introducing and reacquainting, laughing and storytelling,
we are starting the narrative of a writing weekend.
The perfect locale, a small resort, a quiet beach.
Women gather for communal writing,
for friendship and sisterhood, for sharing and trust,
for crying and for laughing.
The words will drip onto the pages
and the table and the floor.
And we will sit in them and roll in them
and toss them up in delight like autumn leaves.
We will scrub ourselves with them,
shampoo them through our hair and into our scalps.
Rub them into our skin and replenish our bodies and souls.
And we will play with them and nurture them
cradle them and protect them.
Words are sacred and writing is prayer.

Getting Ready to Retreat

I could write about several things today. But mostly I'm just happy. All of the state testing is finally finished at school! Though I did many of them, I did not have to administer every session myself this year which was great- thanks to my great teaching staff. I'm relieved it's all over. Now I can breathe again and start working on some of my other responsibilities at work. I'm making some [not so healthy but very comforting] homemade shells and cheese for dinner. And I've been organizing and preparing all evening for the Annual Women's Writing Retreat at Lover's Key Resort this weekend. I'm proud of myself for starting this with my writing group last year, just on a whim. I really wanted to get away and have some downtime to write. A few of my writing buddies agreed, and the retreat was born. I got started earlier this year, and got a lot of help from Helen, one of my group mates. We've planning the agenda for a couple of months, and now I'm getting the final details together. We even got a shirt made this year! All in all, we will have somewhere between 10-15 women and I am quite excited for the 2nd Annual Women's Writing Retreat. A weekend of writing, nature, camaraderie, and a beautiful beach condo. I. am. ready!

Write what you want and it will always matter for ages!

So why not create a writing vacation? Writing Retreat here we come!

Ready to be drenched and soaked, all weekend!

Ready to exercise my qualifications!

Brazen Love

Few rituals in my life are more replenishing and comforting as monthly Tuesday night dinners with my writing group. Five women eating sushi, talking about our work, our families, and writing. I value this group beyond belief. Indulge me if you will on a brief walk back in time...

In 2012, I was working on my dissertation study capturing the experiences of teachers who had attended the NWP Summer Institute at FGCU. After soliciting participants, I formed a couple of focus groups to meet for the study. As fellows of NWP and teachers with a common bond, I enjoyed my data collection with these participants immensely. One of them would later become a good friend who would reach out to me asking if I would like to put together a writing group with her. Helen and I immediately set out to find others we thought might be committed to scheduling devoted writing time in their lives. She was more successful than I, and we organized a brunch meet-up to which she invited three other women who were interested. In June 2013, a group of us met as a Writing Circle to discuss our intentions and our plans. The group was born, and by July we had given ourselves a name, Trail Brazen - a play on the words trailblazing and brazen, which we believed described us.

The group is special. At its inception, it was started to support each of the members in writing pursuits, but it has become so much more. We lift each other up, problem solve our individual and group challenges, celebrate good reading and good writing, and we write, write, write. We have evolved along the way- losing one member, gaining another. But I think they would all agree with me, that we give each other the confidence and the strength to continue writing in various formats and arenas, sticking ourselves out there on occasion and experiencing our way in this world through writing. We write collectively on a blog and started an annual retreat last year in May.

Tonight was our February dinner and something really cool happened. I read an article several months back about a book club exchanging books of poetry for a holiday gift exchange. We decided to do it as a New Years celebration instead, and for various reasons it got put off until this month. We each had to bring in a wrapped book of poetry, with a book marked poem that we picked out as a favorite. Then randomly, each person would pick one up, unwrap it, and read the poem aloud. It really was a wonderful exchange, but the cool part was how much we have begun to know each other as writers and readers- and as women. Natalie started with the book I brought, and Helen took the one Annmarie brought. Since Helen and Annmarie were sitting opposite each other, and Natalie and I were sitting opposite each other, we decided to complete the exchange that way, across the table. Turns out Natalie and I exchanged books of women poets and Helen and Annmarie exchanged Billy Collins collections. We picked similar books when shopping and the exchange just happened in this synchronous way. Strange how that all worked out. Then again, maybe not so strange after all. We're Trail Brazen, ya know.