I always read Charlotte Lit’s weekly newsletter, and that’s where I saw an announcement about their upcoming “spring writing and nature retreat.” It aroused my curiosity. I have long been familiar with Charlotte Lit’s many writing classes and workshops, but I had no idea that Charlotte Lit also runs writing retreats. Intrigued, I contacted Kathie Collins, the Co-Founder and Creative Director of Charlotte Lit, and I asked her for more information about this retreat. In response, she sent me the following piece, which she has titled “Seeking the Poetry in Nature.”
Mark, thanks so much for asking about Charlotte Lit’s upcoming two-day writing retreat. This is our first out-of-town offering since before the pandemic, and I’m excited to be able to host the event at my farm in East Bend, NC, an easy 90-minute drive from Charlotte. The focus of the weekend will be on deepening our writing practices by reconnecting with the natural world. I’ve listed event details below, but I wanted to first offer some background on the genesis of the venue—which is also my home.
Almost three years ago, a life-long friend, who happens to work in real estate, took me out to celebrate my 56th birthday. While we sipped prosecco and munched crackers slathered with crab dip, her phone pinged relentlessly with inquiries about a property she’d just listed. After the fifth or sixth interruption, I asked to see photos—an act of idle curiosity, or so I thought.
I wasn’t in the market for a move, much less the purchase of a 32-acre farm in Yadkin County, NC. Or, I should say, my rational, goal-oriented, ego-bound personality, the part of me that usually runs the show, wasn’t in the market. Some other less conscious and apparently far more powerful parts must have been waiting a long time for such a left-field opportunity; before I could blink, much less think, they had my Jane Doe forged on a purchase contract with a closing date less than two months away.
To say this decision surprised my family and friends is an understatement. I astonished myself, which is something I don’t do very much. I do, however, try to stay in close communication with my inner world and the often-competing demands of the archetypal forces who make up that rich and varied continent. But, like everyone, I can get stuck in my head. So, the inner council gathered (without Ego) and ruled that a radical reconnection with the natural world was critical. I’d say I had no choice, but the truth is I’ve learned to trust this kind of deep knowing. Weirdly, the more out of leftfield a hit is, the fiercer its mandate, the more sure I am of its authenticity and rightness.
The fully-connected me, what C. G. Jung calls the “Self,” knew writer me needed to sink her feet into pasture grass, plant fields full of flowers, follow a trail through the woods and down to the river to watch the bald eagles build up their nest. Capital S-Self said, “Go, build a retreat; invite other writers to come and play.” And, so, I did.
Which brings us to today: Over the last three years, and with lots of help, I’ve renovated the property’s 1883 farmhouse, added gardens and two miles of hiking trails, and built a labyrinth on the property’s highest point. I call this place Innisfree after W.B. Yeats’ famous poem (with thanks to Erin Belieu for the suggestion). One day there’ll be classroom space and a lodge for hosting overnight guests, but the land is waiting—it always has been––and it’s calling your name.
Please join me and fellow guides Jessica Jacobs, CJ Lawing, and Rose McLarney May 18-19 for a weekend of retreat and recreation in beautiful Yadkin Valley. Together, we’ll learn to watch more closely and listen more deeply to what plants, animals, rocks, soil, and wind are showing and telling us. Through reading, writing, and wandering, we’ll wonder about the connections between nature’s lessons and the spiritual teachings found in religious texts. And we’ll practice listening for the soul’s deepest longings. You’ll return home with some nature-inspired writing, a clearer head, and a deeper connection to those wise, though oft-neglected, inner voices.
Saturday, May 18: The Natural & Spiritual
Join poets Jessica Jacobs and Rose McLarney for craft lessons focused on natural and spiritual explorations in poetry. We’ll discuss how to delve into texts such as the Torah and New Testament that may seem not only sacred but inaccessible and inviolate. And we’ll consider how to write about animals and other elements of the more-than-human world, trying to move beyond anthropomorphism by accepting the responsibilities and powers of our human perspectives. Activities will include discussion of exemplary poems and generative exercises. Expect to leave with the drafts of potential new poems and/or short prose.
Sunday, May 19: Landscape as Self
Join landscape designer & spiritual director CJ Lawing and poet & Charlotte Lit co-founder/creative director Kathie Collins for a day spent awakening our creative imaginations through deep reflection on the landscapes that stir and speak to our hearts. Through guided meditation, conversation, writing prompts, mindful wandering, and playful fashioning of found objects into symbols of Self, we’ll discover how our inner and outer worlds mirror one another and practice drawing creative inspiration from the relationship between the two.
Registration details and lodging suggestions: https://www.charlottelit.org/retreat/
I thank Kathie for the information about Charlotte Lit’s writing and nature retreat and for sharing the story of her deep connections to her farm in East Bend. I love the name East Bend. It reminds me of a book that I read as a boy titled The Owl Hoots Twice at Catfish Bend by Ben Lucien Burman. Burman’s novel is set on the banks of the Mississippi River, and it celebrates the natural world. Toward the beginning of the book, Doc Raccoon, the book’s narrator, recounts, “It was a day in June, one of those wonderful days when it’s good to be alive. I was lying on my back near the big live oak tree where I stayed, looking up at the clouds passing by, and the giggly rabbit was doing the same. And Judge Black, the blacksnake, was sitting in the sun near me, giving advice to some young raccoons that I’d invited to the Bend for a visit.”
I wouldn’t have to tweak this passage too much to make it apply to Kathie’s retreat. I would have to switch the place name from Catfish Bend to East Bend and switch the month from June to May. However, I am sure all the folks whom Kathie has “invited to the Bend for a visit” will have “one of these wonderful days when it’s good to be alive.”