Day 4: Meeting welsh people, picking fruit and being intimidated

Today was a good day pretty much.  I woke up and felt at ease with myself and the Ranch, had my swim, and then tucked into one of the tasty breakfasts that the Ranch prepares each day.  I attended the service in the chapel, and was so warmly greeted at the peace that I felt completely at home.

That morning I had a productive session of writing, planning out my novel and just getting all the ideas down on paper.  A quick facetime home with Dad left me feeling that although I'm miles away on the other side of an ocean (and continent) everything is still the same.  Life goes on.

That afternoon, just before lunch I helped Cass pick some fruit, then helped Laurie set up for the writing in ordinary time retreat which started today.  Trying to balance that fine line between being helpful and getting in the way, I think I managed it pretty well.  Cass showed me his bees and I was amazed at the little civilisations he described.  Five minutes of him talking and I was hooked on these buzzing little creatures.

I took myself off and found a bench over looking the valley and surrounding countryside, and realised how lucky I was to have had friends who could introduce me to a place like this.

Back at the Ranch the first couple of people for the retreat were arriving.  There would be eight of us in all, including April who I met the day before, and Laurie who was leading.  April offered to go into Healdsburg for some wine (the place is full of wineriesproceeded), so I joined her so I could grab some beer.

Healdsburg is not really what I imagined.  It was much more affluent then I had pictured, even though I had been told as much at a meal earlier in the week.  We stopped at a supermarket and I found the beer section.  Today was getting better!  A voice said "you tried this one?".  I turned to the young gentleman and explained I didn't know any of these brands as I was just visiting from England.
"Where about's?" was the enthusiastic reply
"A place called Gloucester," I told him, "on the border of England and Wales,"
"I'm Welsh!" he exclaimed.
"Wow," I thought, "what are the chances."  He sounded american so I asked when he'd come over?
"We came over in about 1865..." he then proceeded to tell me where his family had settled etc whilst I just stood there holding back a snort of laughter at the misunderstanding.  But he was really nice and loaded me up with three local beers and wished me a good day.  He went to shake my hand, but I was now carrying three large bottles of beer so rather awkwardly put my fist in his open palm.  He still shook it.  We passed again as I headed to the cashier and we fist bumped with him telling me to "take it easy brother" with a genuine smile.  Cool! I'd found myself as real welsh american buddy.

On the way back, April took me on the scenic route and we chatted about general stuff: Politics, royal babies, books, royals, her history, and babies of the royal variety.  It was a really nice car ride, and I came back arms loaded with beer ready for the retreat.

My retreat group was with seven ladies of varying ages and backgrounds.  All really nice and friendly.  I don't know if I focussed the conversation on myself, or if they focussed it on me, but a mixture of me being the only male, british, and obviously incredibly charming seemed to keep turning the attention back in my direction.  Thats probably just how I remember it, and their blogs will read "that damn brit just went on and on about 'back home' and cricket".

We settled in for the first activity evening session, which is one of the reasons this blog is being written late, and each lady talked about their intentions for the week and then read a little something.  Wow...

The first two ladies were preparing memoirs.  The first read of the burial of here sister when she was very young, and whom she had never met because her sister was born sick.  I had to hold back the emotions, seriously, it was powerful stuff.  The next spoke of her husband passing away earlier this year, how her memoirs would be about her father, brother, husband and grandson who all fought in various wars. She then read from a travel article that she'd written when her husband, who was in a wheel chair, was alive and together they travelled the world.  Wow...

I felt so out of my depth and just thought about what I had written.  I volunteered to speak next, partly because I didn't want to go last against this amazingly high standard of writing, but also just to stop the nerves from getting the better of me.  I didn't read, but explained the concept of the fantasy world I was writing about.  Earlier in the day April had read part of my story and said she'd loved it.  I was so thankful for this support, otherwise I think I could have easily rolled into a ball right there and disappeared.  The group all gave reassuring and positive smiles, saying the concept sounded really interesting.

The next lady was also writing a novel, and like me, had never shared it with anyone.  She talked about her nervousness to share what she was putting down on the page, but still read an extract.  Wow...

It was amazing, I felt both inspired and nauseous at the same time.  The standard of the group was incredible.  How could I ever match it.  The final three ladies all spoke.  April read a poem which was powerfully perceptive and told of her intention to start a mystery novel.  Pat, who is also the Ranch's chaplain, spoke of wanting to write about finding spirituality in common places, and changing service texts to reflect the sessions or episcopal calendar.  Anne spoke of her background as lawyer come primary school teacher, and how she'd always struggled with but found fascinating the psalms.  So her intention this week was to write some psalms of her own, so that she could better understand them.  Wow...

To finish off, Laurie spoke of her background and then read from a novel she had been working on for the last three years about Desdemona from Othello, written in a series of journal like entries, leading to the point when she marries Othello.  Wow... the writing was so beautifully descriptive and elegant.

As everyone said their goodnights, I sheepishly passed what I had written to Laurie and instantly regretted it.  Not because of anything she did or said, I think Laurie is going to be a wonderful teacher and inspiration, just because of my own insecurities. I think she was a bit surprised and asked what I'd like her to do with it.  I stammered a little, just asking for some pointers.  Throughout, from the initial website to the talk Laurie gave at the start of the evening, the emphasis was on being creative and not worrying about being any good or not.  April had already given positive feedback, as had the few people I'd shown my work to back home before flying over.  As I swam in the pool this morning I reminded myself of that.  In many ways it didn't matter if it was any good or not, only that it made me happy and that I enjoyed doing it.  Sooner or later this week I'd have to share, and I guess that the only thing from stopping me from doing that, would be me.
So I need to suck it up; face that fear.  Come on Ratty, take on the world and show it whose boss!