Rolling Retreat -- the Overture

So, I've got to catch a train. It began seven years ago when I returned to work after a 3-month sabbatical having learned at least two things: one, that I hate workshops; two, that I need time alone. When I reported these findings to the Personnel Committee and requested permission and blessing to honor both insights in practice (meaning: avoid workshops, and schedule retreats), they responded, "Is that all?" What a precious place to work! Since then, I've tried to schedule week-long retreats each year. Not vacation -- I schedule that, too, but vacation is a different category (like the separate stomach compartments that receive vegetables and ice cream. "Full" in the former does not necessarily mean "full" in the latter). Sometimes retreats are for being quiet, praying, and reading. Some are for writing. Some are for preparing. Some involve all three. The common denominators, however, are solitude and absence.

This year's version will be different for me. The agenda will be familiar -- reading, writing, quieting and listening -- but the setting will be new. In fact, it will be constantly changing. Sunday evening I will board the Amtrak Southwest Chief at Galesburg, IL and ride it to Los Angeles, CA, where I will connect with Amtrak's Coast Starlight on which I'll ride to Portland, OR. After an overnight, I'll jump on Amtrak's Empire Builder that will trek eastward through Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota and ultimately down through Milwaukee to Chicago. At Chicago, I'll climb aboard the Illinois Zephyr which, with any luck, will return me to me car in Galesburg.

I'm packed -- with one suitcase full of clothes and another full of books and technology. I have Lenten sermons to write, special services to develop, a college syllabus to draft, books to read, and a clickety-clacked anonymity to dissolve into. I can't wait!

And along the way I plan to blog -- daily, or at least as often as I can find Internet access -- about conversations I have, sights that pass by my window, reflections that scratch their way through to consciousness. And perhaps an illustrative photo or two.

Stay tuned.