If you missed Part Three, you can read it here.

Based on everything I’d ever heard or read about writing retreats, I expected to have a room to write in, food made available three times a day, the end. I expected to be at a retreat for x number of days writing. Then go home. Honestly, with two little boys and two dogs and five cats and four chickens and a husband…a few days of being left entirely alone to write and being fed sounds quite lovely. But that’s not what Haven is.

It’s not what it isn’t either. There’s tons of writing at Haven. You write for hours in the morning class, and in the afternoons in your “free” time. And if you’re like me, you woke up early and wrote before class and again in the evening at the end of the day. There was one day where the writing from morning class extended into an outdoor workshop of more writing and reading. There was no shortage of writing happening at Haven.

Some afternoons before dinner we’d sit outside and take turns reading poetry or letters. There was as much reading at Haven as writing. A thing I’d not expected but am grateful for.

And yes, I got to meet live and in person, multiple New York Times Bestselling author Laura Munson, which is a fabulous honor. She taught me some amazing practices, alerted me to some phenomenal ways of seeing, and is solely responsible for my turning a short story into a memoir. I will always be grateful for all of that.

But the reason I went to Haven, the reason I got so much out of the experience, the reason I still can’t stop thinking about it is: the women. The women I worked with at Haven and continue to meet with weekly to discuss our work, are absolutely phenomenal.

I’d gone to Haven thinking I needed the experience to define me as a writer. If I got feedback that what I was doing was good, then I’d keep going and try to make a living out of it.

I’d gone to Haven thinking I needed the validation of having attended a retreat to define me as a writer. If I’ve never gone to a writing retreat how can I possibly call myself a writer?

I’d gone to Haven thinking that if I was really lucky, I’d get a group of writer friends to help discuss all the writerly things with. If I didn’t have a writers group to commiserate with, I wasn’t a writer.

All of that is bullshit.

It turns out that while I got an education at Haven I never could have gotten anywhere else, the most important thing I got from attending are these friends. We call ourselves the Haven Mavens and we meet weekly via Zoom to discuss all things writing. They are the women I contact when I’m excited about a grant I’m applying for or a short story I submitted for publication or I’m frustrated and stuck with my work in progress.

I went to Haven for unnecessary and ridiculous validation. I left Haven with a tribe.

If you haven’t read Part Two you can find it here.

Each day was similar: breakfast, write, classes, write, lunch, write, social hour, write, dinner and dessert, reading and feedback. The day officially started at 8am and didn’t end until 10pm…or 11pm. And perhaps if I’d been able to sleep better, if my insomnia hadn’t been in charge, I’d have handled the schedule better. As it was I was up every morning by 6am or sooner and not able to fall asleep until nearly midnight.

It was exhausting and wonderful. I didn’t have to plan, cook, or shop for food. I didn’t have to check social media every hour, I didn’t want to either even if the schedule had allowed it.

I’d walk the property in the early hours enjoying the steam coming off the many ponds, arriving back to the lodge feet soaked, but blood warm and flowing, ready to write in my journal listening to the sound of cooking in the kitchen.

My walks along the property every morning and every afternoon after dinner were grounding and enervating. I’d come across a new structure and wonder at it’s purpose aside from the obvious beauty. I slowly realized how much more I was getting from this retreat than the validation I’d initially sought, the crafted learning I’d been lacking, the nourishing food I hadn’t expected to be such a delight.

What surprised me most was the energy of the place. I live only a few hours away and have visited the area many times. But Montana is Montana, I thought, how different can it be. Only it was, different. There’s an intense energetic pulse to the place, a seeking and a soothing, a pushing and an untangling. I wondered if everyone else felt it, too.

Read the final part “The Takeaway” here.