“If you want the truth,
I’ll tell you the truth:
Listen to the secret sound,
the real sound,
which is inside you.”
For the last three years I’ve been part of Roselle Angwin‘s Islands of the heart writing retreat on Iona. I attend to recharge my writing batteries, to spend time on a remote Hebridean island, for community with other writers and thinkers, and to benefit from Roselle’s adept group leadership. The retreat reminds me of one way to lead a writer’s life. I like to rise early. Keep a notebook to hand. Walk. Spend time in silence. There’s a lot of free-writing, reading , and play (writing exercises; games). Community with the other writers present is a huge part of the experience.
In part, I go to Iona to revisit the insights I found when I was effectively penned in my flat for ten months during cancer treatment, so easily lost in the hurly-burly of daily life with “no evidence of disease.”
I find the words flow so easily in Iona. This year I’ve come back with over 20 embryonic poems. Of course many will be discarded, and they all without exception, need to compost in my notebook / laptop before I work out what’s reusable. There’s no doubt it’s a huge privilege to be able to travel to Iona to write. On this remote island, this year, I seem to have written some of my most political poems yet.