After more than four solid years of blogging, I'm seriously considering pulling the plug on Cassandra and most of my online activities for a month this summer. Call it a fast, a break, a retreat...whatever. It's not that I'm feeling tired of writing or uninspired; in fact, I feel rather the opposite. It's that I think it would be good for me to feel what it's like not to do this for a while; to see what then comes to the surface. Lately I've been intentionally changing my diet to a more cleansing, lighter mixture of foods. I've been doing yoga in the mornings and getting more exercise. I already feel better: lighter and healthier and more energetic. Now I am wondering about my intellectual diet.
Spending the last 24 hours in a remote area just above the border at the home of a friend - a rustic Alpine-ish place totally without electricity, with a pond and beautiful gardens backing up on a mountain - has made me think about this even more. Eight of us made a communal meal - salmon cooked on an outdoor fire made of wood gathered in the forest, and various vegetable dishes and salads brought by all of us - and ate on a screened porch overlooking the garden while the sun went down over the mountains. No lights, no other dwellings could be seen; the only sounds were those of the forest, a bullfrog, the springs feeding the ponds, and the birds. It was well after dark by the time we finished the cheese course and the grapes; we ate our the dessert of chocolate cake and fruit salad, and drank our coffees and tisanes of lemon ginger tea and dried Chinese hawthorn fruit, served in an old blue and white German teapot with its own votive-heated base, by candlelight while the moon moved in and out of gathering clouds. After cleaning the kitchen, lit by a gas lamp, we all repaired to the fire behind the house, on the edge of the forest, where we drank the host's strong homemade blackcurrant eau-de-vie and sang songs - French Canadian ones in honor of St. Jean Baptiste Day, the national day of Quebec which we were celebrating, and American spirituals. I felt as if I had stepped into a John Berger novel.
J. and I spent the night in our tent, near the pond, listening to gurgling water and frogs, and woke up to birds singing everywhere with the first light. It began to rain, lightly, then harder; we crawled out and put the fly on our tent, dozed and listened. At 7:30 I went up to the house and had a cup of tea. Then our host, a Jungian psychologist with a long interest in Eastern religion (though he's an Anglican we know through the cathedral), led four of us in half an hour of yoga followed by silent meditation, in his small wooden meditation hut. Then we had breakfast, the white tablecloth scattered with bright pink petals from the climbing roses glorifying the white stuccoed south-facing wall of the house.
Our host had just come back from several weeks at an ashram in France, and the talk at dinner included sharing various thoughts and experiences about meditation and monasteries - Hindu, Buddhist, Catholic, Orthodox. We spoke about the challenges and rewards of solitude and silence, of city and rural life, of institutional religion and the personal spiritual path.
I am still thinking about all of this, and also not-thinking: still absorbed in the feeling I had last night, and this morning in meditation.
I recently spent four years on a bed made of 4 layers of foam in an alpinish apartement avec vue de montreal. Don't you dare stop blogging. If you need to change, just post from time to time on "the unbearable lightness of being", even if it makes no "sense". Sorry. Enspirited.
Best,
Scott
Posted by: Scott | June 25, 2007 at 09:49 PM
Oh, you scared me at first, Beth, thinking you were going to stop bogging, period! I do understand the need for a break, a change for a while, but I would miss you greatly! Your retreat sounds amazing - spiritually and visually, and inspired a lovely piece of writing again.
Posted by: marja-leena | June 26, 2007 at 12:14 AM
I for one would completely support whatever decision you make, Beth. Lately I've been far less "present" online, although my teaching prevents me from completely pulling the plug. But I know what it's like to sense your "real life" pulling you away from your "virtual" one, and I don't see that as a bad thing.
So do what your soul is calling you to, then see where that leads you. You owe nothing to your readers than being true to yourself: the very virtue that's always made Cassandra sing.
Posted by: Lorianne | June 26, 2007 at 05:13 AM
A lovely post. And what Lorianne said.
Posted by: Peter | June 26, 2007 at 05:19 AM
I wish I had - what? - the strength of mind to do the same, Beth. The eccentricities of Radio Userland provided me with a one month break when I was on Salon back in 2004 &, after initial carpet gnashing, I felt the benefit enormously.
But although spirit was willing when RU sputtered back into action, it was very difficult restoring momentum. Resuming blogging felt a little like trying to board a moving train. I share Natalie's tendency to procrastination so it might have just been me, but (now I'M in Cassandra mode) be warned, Beth! At least, give us all fair warning of your furlough in the wilderness...
Posted by: Dick | June 26, 2007 at 05:19 AM
I'd miss finding your thoughts here, but I would envy you for being able to shake off your barnacles for a while.
I think Dick is right, though -- if you stop altogether, you'll probably find it hard to start again, even if you keep up other journals throughout.
How about a regular Sunday Evening Update? You could save up the best of the week's thoughts and discoveries and set down the ones you had time and energy for, and maybe the ritual would become a milestone for starting a fresh week.
Good luck in whatever you choose --
Posted by: The other Peter | June 26, 2007 at 06:17 AM
I am glad that "pulling the plug" means, in this context, taking a month or so away from the blog, and not deleting the blog altogether as some of my favorite bloggers are wont to do! :-)
Posted by: Rachel | June 26, 2007 at 09:12 AM
I would miss you, and your lovely posts, if you went on hiatus.
But, on the other hand, I would understand. Sometimes life just doesn't have room for blogging, or one is not in a phase where the sorts of thinking that blogging rewards (or discourages) aren't quite right. I wonder, too, if this is an inevitable stage for many long-term bloggers - I've known many people who've had to, or simply wished to, take a break for a bit.
I think the trick is to figure out what it is about blogging, or not blogging, that appeals to you - or does not. Going on a few weeks (or even months, gasp) sabbatical can help you decide how blogging is going to fit into your life in the next phase. Who knows, maybe it will make blogging exciting again.
Of course, I am hoping that, after such a break, you'd want to come back!
Posted by: Rana | June 26, 2007 at 11:36 AM
What an amazingly wondrous garden and what a joy it must have been to be there. Beth, I don't think you'll stop blogging. Once the germ has entered the blood, it stays there. At least in those of us whose immune system welcomes the blogbug with open arms. It can be a kind of meditation too - certainly your posts often are. I'd like to try and reach a point where I am detached from the results of blogging (the stats, the comments, the "popularity") and even from the formalities of doing something for an audience. Simply to use the space as a kind of blank canvas or notebook, an experimental space.
Posted by: Natalie | June 26, 2007 at 08:42 PM
Your sojourn sounds wonderful, rich, inspiring.
Do what you need to do, you know you'll always be welcomed back!
Posted by: Lucy | June 27, 2007 at 04:29 PM
Oh my, Beth...we can probably go for a month without hearing from you, but if t'were to become permanent, I would surely miss your gentle but penetrating and provocative observations and musings. I love this blog.
Posted by: Bitterroot | June 27, 2007 at 11:40 PM
Hi Beth - just dropping by for the first time in a while. I find my various breaks really useful - breaks from blogging, breaks from writing, breaks from people, even if I resist them! Hope you can give yourself what's right. Hope all is well with you too. Off to visit qarrtsiluni now!
Posted by: fiona robyn | July 14, 2007 at 04:28 AM
Meditation has several types and it is practiced in different religions. Buddhism and Hinduism has strong bonding with meditation. Now the benefits are open and anyone can learn it to get the benefits.
Camps and other such occasions and events organized to impart training and teachings in meditation can be of great help. You can learn in such occasion. If you want more, then you can join other specialized and intensive trainings.
Online sites like http://www.meditationhome.com and others are great resources about meditation. You can learn everything about meditation from such sites.
Relaxation meditation techniques is a part of meditation. It helps to relax your mind and keep away the stress associated with your life.
Posted by: Linda | November 03, 2007 at 02:53 AM