Sunday, July 3, 2016: “Dedicated to the betterment of human relations.”

Sunday, July 3, 2016: “Dedicated to the betterment of human relations.”

Brandon and I had breakfast together at the inn early Sunday morning. We had expected there to be an interfaith church service at the campground campfire circle, but for some reason, there was no service this Sunday. So Brandon and I sat and held our own brief service, with a few words about gratitude and some meditation.

While I was breaking camp and packing up, I had a nice chat with Jim, the motorcyclist from a nearby site. His bike is more of a sport bike, or “crotch rocket,” whereas mine is more of a cruiser, meant for slow, easy riding. He discussed a ride he had planned for the day and said he would be “wicking and barking” down the parkway. I asked him to explain that phrase and he made a perfect imitation of a sport bike winding out at higher and higher rpm’s and then downshifting to go into a turn.

“Wi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ick… bark, bark, bark.”

My motorcycle, on the other hand, made a comparatively quiet hum as I cruised back up north on the Blue Ridge Parkway Sunday afternoon. I stopped in Asheville for gas, passed Mount Mitchel and Craggy gardens and arrived at Wildacres Retreat Center around 4. Several people I remembered from my three previous retreats were there when I pulled up, and they greeted me enthusiastically.

“You out-cooled us all, James,” said Mike, the resident manager of the property.

My fried Marsha, who has been at three of my four Wildacres retreats took a picture of me on my motorcycle in front of the sign declaring that the Wildacres Retreat is “a conference center dedicated to the betterment of human relations.”

Arriving at Wildacres Retreat.

 I was delighted that Judi, the retreat director, once again, assigned Will and me to the two little rooms off the balcony in the guest house. There were some announcements after dinner, and I invited folks to meditate with me at 7:30 every morning in the meeting room off the canteen. After dinner, as Will and I sat on the porch admiring the view, five or six other retreatants came down to admire our special view, and we all walked over to the nearby amphitheater and talked about writing until it started to rain.
For the next two weeks, I will be living at Wildacres, writing, learning about writing, and learning about myself.