Category Archives: Retreat

Magical Retreat

20130211_mmI met Alex when I was twenty-four and he was thirty-two. That was a big difference in ages at those ages! We were living in an intentional community and both had other relationships.

I’d been initiated into Witchcraft and kept the sabbats. He had studied Ceremonial Magic and yoga. I taught him Witchcraft, he taught me Ceremonial, and together we studied sex magic, both in theory and practice.

After a few months we ran away together – broke off our relationships and said goodbye to the community. I jumped on the back of his motorcycle and we roared off over the mountains.

Washington is an agricultural state. Every year in September the call goes out for pickers to live in the orchards and bring the harvest in. We ended up in the Okanogan Valley, living in a picker’s cabin without electricity or running water, with a communal shared toilet-shower.

At the end of the harvest season Alex was offered a job in the orchard as a “steady hand”. This came with a cabin with wood heat and running water! We still used the shared toilet-shower though. With a steady job and a place to live, he proposed, and I accepted. We turned up in front of a justice of the peace at the county courthouse with a couple who served as our witnesses, reception at the Dairy Queen after.

Having traded the motorbike for a beater truck, we roared off to spend our honeymoon in a tent on the coast. It rained, the tent flooded, we checked into a hotel, and I took another step in the lengthy process of growing up.

We lived in that apple orchard for three years. Pre-internet, out in the Washington sticks, we had to use mail order to bring books into the house.

Alex worked each weekday, I worked seasonally in the orchard and in the house when there was no work. At night, on weekends, we studied and practiced magic. At sabbats there were just two of us in the circle. We bought the Aurum Solis Magical Philosophy series – we were among the people who sent in money to print the fifth book – and worked through that system as a self-study program, doing rituals together and apart, writing journals, taking notes.

At the end of three years we felt ready to emerge from our lengthy magical retreat. We traded the beater truck for a travel trailer and roared off over another set of mountains to settle in Puget Sound. Seattle is a big town or a small city. We have spent more than two decades working with various magical systems but staying in touch with the same people.

It was such a luxury to be able to focus on nothing but magic for all that time. However far I’ve gone in my magic and travels, that early magical retreat provides a solid substratum for my practice. I am still immersed in the world of community, but I have a thought at the back of my head that I will end up in my old age holed up in a cabin in the woods on one final magical retreat.

Woman Magician

Hood Canal

Hood Canal

Writing The Woman Magician wasn’t just a project for me, it was a lifestyle. IIt was ten years from the typing the first pages to holding the printed book in my hands, and I travelled a lot of miles along the way.

Travelled? Yes, I wrote the book on the get-away-and-focus plan. Some works can be done in little pieces, like quilt squares, and then stitched together. The book was more like a grand knitting project, it had to be done all at once. I needed big chunks of time to think a complex thought through to its conclusion.

To accomplish this I spent at least one weekend a month away from home on a series of writing retreats. I’d scour the web for a place to stay within a short driving radius. It had to be quiet, preferably a cabin, with places where I could walk. I stayed at Lake Cushman, Silver Lake, Lake Oswego. I spent one long weekend on Guemes Island and several others on Hood Canal. For a number of years I spent Christmas break at Long Beach in Washington state. It’s a four hour drive from my house to the Long Beach peninsula along highways, then state roads, then local roads. In the winter the alder trunks stand bare against green cedar, red twig dogwood and tan grasses line the roads, the water reflects the gray mist in the sky. I’d pop a CD of troubador music in the player and roll along the road. Some years were wilder than others, sometimes trees blocked the roads, sometimes there was snow.

Whidbey Island Writers Refuge

Whidbey Island Writers Refuge


Once installed in the cabin I had a regular routine. I woke up and wrote. I’d eat lunch and then take a walk, along the beach, in a neighboring park, down the road where I was staying. Back at the cabin I would write what I had been thinking on the walk. I’d take a nap. Then dinner, in the cabin or out at a neighborhood joint, and more writing. I’d call or Skype Ted and catch up on what we’d been doing. Then I’d write until I was too tired to sit up. Sleep, repeat.

I wasn’t always working on the book during writing retreats. I worked on “Feminist Thelema” or Women’s Voices in Magic too. I’d always come back to the main work though. After eight or so years of this I had a pretty substantial collection of draft text.

Finally I got serious about finishing the project. I booked two week-long stays at the Whidbey Island Writers Refuge. This is a cozy cabin tucked away in the woods that was purpose-built for writing retreats. I spent one summer week there drafting half the book and a winter week drafting the second half. The seasons and the cabin made their way into the book.

I threw a book release party at the Esoteric Book Conference in 2011. The week after the conference my entire family took a month-long trip around the country by train. It was a celebration of accomplishment and a total immersion into a luxuriously long trip.

Long Beach in winter

Long Beach in winter

Since we came back from that trip I haven’t done monthly writing retreats. There are a lot of reasons. I am committed to conservation of resources and try to drive as little as possible. As I get older travel is not quite as easy as it used to be for me and I find that I miss my own sheets and my kitchen gear. Also, when we came back from our month on the train we all got new pets, and now I have three beautiful kitties; they are always around me, sleeping nearby or on me, nuzzling me and purring. When I have to stay away from home I miss them terribly. It may be that my writing vagabond days are over.

I loved the writing retreat period of my life. I saw a lot of the northwest that way. The places wound themselves into the text. When I read the words I can see the waves on the winter beach, the birds circling over the water, long stretches of highway through trees. The north woods by the sea offer quiet immersion in secluded places. I don’t think I could have written a book of that scope anywhere else.