I’m sitting in a cottage in the woods of New Hampshire, surrounded by women who are knitting and talking and getting to know each other. We’ve just returned from listening to Elizabeth speak at her opening ceremony for this Fall session of Squam Art Workshops. I am one of the lucky ones because I arrived at Lake Squam yesterday before everyone else arrived this afternoon. I’ve had an extra 24 hours to sink into this place, and to allow myself to feel all the emotions that it triggers in me. As I drove to pick up Camille from Londonderry, New Hampshire, I was conscious that my throat was already tightening with suppressed tears, and I knew that it would only become more intense the closer I came to Squam. This place, which seemed like a dream before I first came here in June, only becomes more perfect and myth-like the more time I spend here. In a way, it is confronting because my emotions are so close to the surface all the time that I am here, but I know that it is important that I let those feelings flow through me and emerge in whatever form they chose to do so – usually tears (happy, fearful, joyful, regretful, tender, intensely personal and always poignant). I am so, so grateful to Elizabeth for creating this space where I know – I know – that not only is it safe for me to feel and cry and laugh, but that I am with my people who will support me and love me as I do so. In the past day, I have been recognised as a soul sister, and I have met a true kindred spirit. Even though the workshops haven’t officially started yet, I feel as though I have already found everything I could possibly have wanted from this experience.
Elizabeth’s hope for us as we embark on this Fall session is that we allow ourselves to be open, and alive and awake. She blessed the session by reading from her journal her hopes for the magic we will find here, and by imploring us to open all the doors to possibility and to the present moment. To say yes to what it is that we need from this place and this time, and to say no to self-judgment and whatever it is that doesn’t give us ease and peace and love. I cried as her words touched that deep and secret part of me yet again, and I fell further in love with this place and these people. I was cracked open by my time here in June, and now in September I feel myself closer again to my surface and yet so much further inward simultaneously.
I am here. This is only the beginning. I am saying yes.
When Ideas Fail 