I was primed and ready to go, nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, and I expected nothing less than earth shattering revisions of myself before leaving on a weeklong  Zona Rosa Writing Retreat led by Rosemary Daniell..

There were thunderstorms and lightening over Tybee Island as I approached. The kayak I was carrying on top of my car got something caught in it as I was passing over the marsh on a long bridge. It was probably a beautiful bird and it was flopping around inside of my kayak right above my head. The thumping and bumping was horrendous and disconcerting. Then it stopped. With my hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, I pondered the lightning and the mystery noise  as I made my way to the island.

I arrived hot, sweaty, late and not at all composed for the opening cocktail party. I walked in talking about the storm which had already passed; saying, "There is some powerful energy here judging from the storm I saw over the island coming in." They all stared at me, not comprehending what I was saying. One woman told me later she perceived me as one of those right wing conservatives. Wow, I was really uptight, but I had arrived and the retreat was now!

Rosemary Daniel began in the sixties treading paths not much traveled.

Her books and poetry took the lid off southern prose and poetry by discussing her sexuality and challenging gender roles.  The blazing of these trails plus its generous and supportive maxims are the foundation of Zona Rosa creative writing groups founded by Rosemary in the 1970's. 

My time had come to spend seven days in a peaceful beach house setting with poets, memoirists, novelists and journeyers retreating from Arizona, Arkansas, Texas, Maryland and various places in Georgia. 

We spent mornings tending to our business and writing. The house was big and filled with light. It was easy to get into the spirit of listening to my own inner voice. We had no interruptions; we had only ourselves to take care of and it felt nothing short of miraculous. 

In the afternoons Rosemary led discussions. We read our "exorcisms" and spent a liberal amount of time on each piece. Rosemary helped us become comfortable expressing ourselves to others, discovering our strengths - as writers and human beings - and to discern what was bullshit.

Each assignment reading was followed with a fairly lengthy discussion with Rosemary affirming everyone's stories by mindful listening and deep conversation.

My transformational experience at the Zona Rosa retreat came from the unguarded acceptance of all my stories. The main consensus  from all in terms of what I could do to improve my writing was to include myself more. This isn't easy because I find it difficult to live a life of quiet subversion to typical values and not feel censored. Growing up in one place and living here into my fifties means I have learned to compartmentalize myself. There are ways I am blind to my own being.   My intentional communities all provide arenas in which to be authentic, but shame and guilt have grown in me like a bad seed since I was in my thirties.  Rosemary and her Zona Rosan sisters encouraged me to tell my way out of my own sightlessness and self condemnation.

I fell in love with each woman and her story. Over the week's time it was as if each woman was pulling a thread from a cloth, first unraveling and then weaving herself back together through her writings.   Each woman modeled and passed on her energy and knowledge in such a way I felt it pass into me whole.

I had insights on writing and organizing stories and poems as more than a simple collection of rules and theories of writing, but as a gestalt. It was holistic, healing. and liberating to experience to discover my truth matters and the stories I tell are meaningful to others. The storms  over the island were portent and the Zona Rosa retreat lived up to my expectations.

The Zona Rosa retreat is over, but as we say in my church when we extinguish the chalice, "so my light goes out into the world."