I am peeping my head up and out of the retreat I'm on right now to lay out the plan: Tomorrow, I leave for the (bitterly cold) highlands of Scotland to visit my sister's family, and a few days later I leave from Aberdeen for Nairobi, Kenya. That's the place where the summer lives. And that's where I'll be until July, thanks to the good people at the Fulbright program. (See the story about what I'm up to here.) I plan to do a good deal of writing while I'm there, including here on this site. Some people have questioned whether or not I would start a second website specifically dedicated to my time in East Africa, but, seriously, this blog is called "Isak"--how silly it would be to venture elsewhere. Besides, it's not as if this is a plain old vacation: while in Nairobi, I'll be focusing on literature and reading and language and culture, which is of a piece with what this Isak project has been about lo these last five years.
This is all to say, my posting here may be patchy over the next couple weeks while traveling and jet-lagged and being gobsmacked with what it means to be "elsewhere." I have no idea what's going to happen these next six months, but at least some of the stories that unfold will find their home here. And you're invited to come visit.
A quick note on retreats--as this is the space I'm in today: I was fortunate enough to do a 30-hour or so silent yoga retreat this weekend, and am now spending the rest of the time before I leave on retreat in a little corner room at the gorgeous and eclectic space at Vitosha. It's a blessing to spend intentional and relaxed time in this little pocket between "here" and "there." (A blessing, too, to have bottles of wine and a fireplace and Rilke poems here in the room with me.) I feel this bodily (and not just because of the yoga ache that still vibrates in my muscles). I do take transitions seriously in my life, which is why I sought this retreat, but I'm thinking now how this kind of stillness in a time of change might be adapted to less obvious places in my life. Day to day, how might I make my movements originate and return to places of stillness? How do I transition between modes of work and play, solo time and socializing, sleeping and wakefulness? (Answer, at least in the last few months: I can be abrupt, sometimes harshly so.) I am thinking, then, of how I might find an alternative rhythm that makes little "retreats" of the shifts in my more ordinary pace of life. I don't think I need to entirely leave this "retreat" mind and body space here behind me. I want to carry it forward.
Beautifully said, beautifully. Retreats can be anytime we take them, and transitions happen all the time, though Fulbright is a big transition (says the one freaking out about hers). I know this will be a wonderful experience and opportunity for you, and I am so excited to see what comes of it. Many blessings!
Posted by: Rebecca | January 03, 2011 at 12:48 PM
Have an awesome time in Africa. And Scotland, although Scotland is substantially less awesome. Unless you like cold and rain :)
Posted by: Rob Philip | January 03, 2011 at 02:26 PM
"Gobsmack". Love it! Can't wait to hear from you Anna. Safe travels.
Posted by: Andy | January 03, 2011 at 07:10 PM
Best of luck! Cannot wait to hear about it. In honor of your trip my husband and I are watching 'Out of Africa.' :) Well that and it was available on our Netflix cue!
Posted by: Beth | January 04, 2011 at 11:58 AM
Glad you liked the yoga retreat and best of luck! I am so excited to hear about how it all turns out!!!!!
(I've been thinking about stillness myself lately and have been been managing to wake up before kids and light a candle- we'll see how long that lasts!)
Posted by: Nina Ignaczak | January 04, 2011 at 03:56 PM
Thank you so much for all the love!
Posted by: Anna Clark | January 06, 2011 at 05:38 PM
Happy and safe travels, Anna! I'm looking forward to following your adventures and living vicariously through your work:)
P.S. I've been thinking about transitions/stillness as well. I'm not particularly religious--I might cop for "spiritual"--but I envy my mother because she finds peace through religion and daily prayer. Selfishly, I hope to find a similar form of meditation.
Posted by: gina | January 09, 2011 at 09:23 PM