November has always been one of my favorite months–it houses my birthday; in numerology, the number 11 speaks volumes to me; and if I were choosing my final meal it would definitely be turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. And lots of it. But November of 2017 is the topper.

I rented a condo on St. Pete beach for the month, purpose being: winter sun, solitude and reflection, and getting my ass in gear about writing. BF, who was totally supportive of this adventure, (that’s why I call him BF, btw, he seldom behaves like a husband) would visit, and Daughter J. would join us for Thanksgiving. But the focus was to be on me and my writing. I turned off all notifications on my phone and swore off of social media–completely. For thirty days! I was determined to make this a retreat.

Before dawn, November 1, I kissed BF goodbye at the Southwest drop-off point at Indianapolis International Airport. I was feathering my sun-drenched Florida nest before noon. Suitcase unpacked and tucked under the bed, nightstand piled with my books and journals, computer plugged in at the kitchen table, blinds thrown back to optimize my view of the beach; I felt like jumping on the bed. Instead, I grabbed a quick lunch at Sandbar Bill’s and walked to Publics for groceries, all while holding on to the spirit that I was jumping on the bed.

Sunset comes early at the beach in November. I poured a glass of Chardonnay, tucked a beach towel under my arm, and headed to the sand for my first of thirty.

Over the next twenty-nine days, I read, I wrote, I pondered, I walked miles up and down that beach. I welcomed silence. I made new friends; visited an old one. I found a yoga home on the beach. I bonded with the dolphins. I experienced the joy of sharing my retreat with family. Mostly, I “happied.”

BF joined me for my final yoga class for the month. He joked, “If you guys see a guy headed toward the airport tomorrow with something thrown over his shoulder, that’s me dragging Debi.”

November 30th, I packed up, teary, renewed, proud, pleased with the bit of writing I accomplished, and with a reservation in my back pocket for December 1-31, 2018.