Big Sur and Esalen

This photo was taken on Sunday afternoon, after the Esalen experience had ended.  Yes, I look tired, and I was tired.  It was a very intense experience, flying for the first time, seeing California for the first time, and meeting many new people.

Big Sur, of course, is so beautiful.  This photo was taken on Hwy 1, just outside of Esalen.  Driving the highway is exhilarating.  Often you can look out your window and see the cliffs dropping straight down to the ocean.  Every new turn presents something breathtaking.  I'd never seen anything like it before.

Esalen itself is a veritable utopia.  The sweet aroma of flowers mixed with the clean breeze off the pacific, the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks, and the generous nature of all participants felt marvelous, albeit a bit overwhelming.  Please understand, I'm one who is easily overwhelmed.  My preferred existence is quiet and calm.  My preferred existence is solitude.  So Esalen was a bit of a sensory overload for me.  It simply was almost too much for me to process, and I'm still working at taking it all in. 

I will say that I don't believe I've ever met so many kind, generous, and accepting people all in one place.  You felt like you could be completely yourself at Esalen. 

As some of you know, I was able to meet fellow blogger Vicky (My Incentive) at Esalen.  See her entry, "Too Full To Speak."  How strange is life.  Before The Sun invited me to Esalen to lead  workshops, I would have never dreamed I would meet Vicky in person.  She was an "Internet friend," precious but just a little bit abstract.  Even the snail mail we exchanged didn't quite quell the sense for me that Vicky was a far-off angel, precious but forever out of range.  Now we've met!  It was so easy to be with her, so comforting.  Vicky is so alive, and she is so easy to love.

The Sun had 80-something participants.  Each participant chose four workshops to attend during the weekend.  Workshops were scheduled on Saturday morning, Saturday afternoon, and Sunday morning.  I led three workshops--one on finding meaning in one's story, one on using the shadow in one's writing, and one on autobiographical fiction.

The participants were so open.  They were so guided by a spirit of discovery.  Although many came burdened by fears and doubts, most overcame them enough to create some stunning writing.  Those who were unable to write "on the spot" (I certainly could identify with them; I, too, have a hard time creating spontaneously) took with them the tools they needed to write in the comfort and privacy of their own space.

On Saturday night, the group leaders all read from their work.  I read from my novel, The Secret of Hurricanes.  Gillian Kendall read a piece previously published in The Sun.  Alison Luterman (who was my roommate) read powerhouse poems from her published collection, The Largest Possible Life.  David Romtvedt read poems from various published sources.  And the editor of The Sun, Sy Safransky, read his "Notebook" piece which appears in this month's (October 2005) Sun.  Sy's voice brings a wonderful gravity to what he writes. 

Hearing all the authors read from their work was, for me, like going to church, like experiencing an exceptional service, one you'll always remember.  Listening to the readers, I said to myself, This is how our stories and poems are supposed to be shared--out loud.    

How few opportunities really exist for this kind of encounter with writing, unfortunately.

I attended the AWP Writing Conference when it was in Chicago.  It fed my spirit, and I'd like to attend another AWP Conference someday, perhaps even lead a session there.  But Esalen was by far a better experience for me.  It was less "hurried," if that makes sense.  Although I was very busy working with groups and meeting people afterwards, I never felt rushed.  I never felt anxious in the same way I so often do in some academic situations. 

Yes, I was in my element at Esalen.  Yes, indeed.

Now that I'm home, I have to try to hold onto what Esalen gave me.  Not just hold onto it, but pass it on.