Good and bad, happy and sad: contradictions suck

Attended a three-day writing retreat at the Christine Center led by Joanne Nelson. Retreats are wonderful and  difficult. By now, you all know I love contradictions.

Wonderful? The property at the Christine Center inspired me. A strange bright orange frog glued to my door welcomed me back to my cabin the first evening. On my morning walks, turtles, dragon flies, hummingbirds, bluebirds, and orioles greeted me. Another group member saw an elk and took a picture. The native plants and wildlife filled me with hope for this planet.

Difficult? There’s a symbolic dark path I journey down about once a year. Instead of wallowing in sadness, this retreat allowed me to explore it, with all it’s dampness, moss, and decaying trees. The “whys” haunt me. Why am I toiling with literary fiction when my short articles/essays/flash fiction catch more attention, get published, and keep me motivated?

Many questions floated through my mind during the retreat but the answers are entangled in contradictions.  Literary fiction is my passion. Stopping means gaining the apparent rewards of getting published but also means denying a magical, mystical part of myself I don’t understand. No logic, just knowing.