Glory

I am home from Oxford—a week has gone by since the end of the second genesis retreat, and I can hardly believe that the work is done, and I am back into the ebb and flow of life here (which seems mostly like flow as I’ve been making grape juice out of the Concord grapes in the backyard, and it has been flowing into canning jars as well as all over the kitchen floor. Smells divine, but oooh sticky.).

While I am happy to be home, I miss the quads of Oxford, the gardens and cloisters that create such a peaceful cocoon, a boundary between the bustle and noise from the world outside. I miss the cooing of the pigeons outside my window, the ting-a-ling of bicycle bells as riders come around corners, the church bells tolling the hour. I miss all the breads, cakes, and cookies that I can eat there, but can’t here (darn the toxic American farming industry). I miss the camaraderie of so many like-minded women seeking a creative safe space and their willingness to be vulnerable as we played together.

To be quite honest, the week was glorious. The weather was uncharacteristically beautiful. Blue skies and puffy white clouds. It did rain—of course it did because this is England—but the rains were considerate enough to mainly contain themselves to periods when we were on a bus, or in a room, or at a coffee shop.

I found myself feeling perfectly happy several times, which is a challenging thing for any American to do these days. Being in a different place, surrounded by so many good things filled my cup to overflowing.

We took a literary walking tour, and I delighted in seeing the expressions on everyone’s faces as we peeked into the garden where the original Alice of Alice in Wonderland used to play, and when we came upon a lamp post near a door decorated with satyrs (could it have been the inspiration for C.S. Lewis?). I treasured our first evening together as we met in the Drawda Garden—a secret garden if there ever was one—sharing epiphanies and intentions for our week together.

We got to celebrate not one, but TWO birthdays on September 9th, which merited a no-holds-barred cake from a bakery down the street from Christchurch. There were also some fizzy drinks brought by one of the birthday girls, as well as a tamer fizzy drink brought by the Gingerbread Man for those of us who so desired.

Then we took an after-hours tour of the Bodleian Library. The library was empty and we got to go back in the stacks of Duke Humphrey’s Library, where the smell of old books is gloriously tangible. It made me giddy. I don’t have to tell you that I wasn’t the only giddy one.

We punted, we pub’ed, we played. We collaged, and doodled, and arranged poetry through some serendipity. We sat and sipped and considered.

We dined and talked and laughed. We shopped at Blackwell’s and ate the most amazing sticky toffee pudding and saw a double rainbow (and you all know how I feel about rainbows #splinteredlight). We explored and told stories and created.

On our penultimate day, Oxford hosted an “Open Doors” program, not dissimilar from the one I went to in Lowell in June. But it was Oxford, not Lowell. Heh. So I explored to my heart’s content, peeking into places that were absolutely delicious.

At the end of our time together, I asked everyone if they got what they needed. One participant (Elizabeth Schoenfeld) shared a black-out poem from an exercise we did that emerged out of a page of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

Found poetry on page 102

Admit the Story, Repeat Every Day

Supposing “Yes,” friend.

Why influence?

Wish first.

Wish happiness’ increase.

Wish importance, pride.

Wish better.

Wonder better.

Wish, unlikely sisters, liberty.

Believe, try, succeed.

Unnaturally unhappy, ashamed, mistaken.

Feel, sisters, light.

Elizabeth, wish.

Name the between.

Continue, wonder.

Return, Elizabeth, clear.

Consider perplexity.

Endeavour.

Believe.

Merely transient no more.

Admit the story.

Repeat every day.

When is your turn?

Now is your time.

Next year, Oxford will be there waiting for us once again. I’ll be opening up registration for genesis 2026 next month.

When is your turn? Now is your time.