Last week, I went on a personal retreat. By this I mean that I went off the grid, alone. No Internet, no phone, no running water. No companions, no guest speakers, no workshops. Just me and my laptop in a cabin in the Wisconsin woods.

This was my second personal retreat of this nature. The previous one was a six-day stint at SuBAMUH in southeastern Ohio, two years ago. Six days in near-solitude turned out to be on the long side for me, so this time I tried four days at Stargazen Women’s Retreat. I think next time I’d split the difference. Considering travel time and settling-in time, four days didn’t feel like quite enough.

I totally lucked out in terms of the weather. All week, it was sunny and in the 70s. It could have proved distracting, but I managed to stay more or less on task. There was a big, grassy hill near my cabin where I took my notebook, my books, my guitar, and even my laptop to work and rejuvenate. Spending hours undisturbed in the warm sun, in October no less, made the retreat worthwhile right there.

My goals for the retreat were basic: to get away from my regular day-to-day life (especially that great time-waster, the Internet) and work on my current writing project. When I set more specific goals, I find I constantly have to reevaluate and revise them. It takes longer than I thought to write a scene; I thought I could plow ahead with the plot, but it turns out I need to go back and revise first; etc.

And spending several hours per day writing, rather than my usual one or two, forces me to confront problems that I may otherwise spend days dancing around. On this retreat, I discovered that something I’d considered a central plot point late in the story just didn’t make sense; the story as I was writing it did not lead to that place. It was time for me to stop trying to force it and accept that the characters had other plans.

I went a full 48 hours without human interaction, but I broke from my retreat one afternoon to meet up with Julie Bowe, fellow writer, Chudney Agency client, and friend. We met up at Norske Nook, a Scandinavian restaurant known for its pies. They didn’t disappoint. I tried lefse (“Norwegian burrito!” Julie said), the sour cream raspberry pie, and locally made root beer—yum. Even better was the conversation with Julie.

When and where will I retreat again? I don’t know. The larger question for me, as I think it is for anyone who’s been on retreat, is how to carry home the openness, reflection, and diligence I experienced in the woods and not to slip back into the day-to-day. I fear it’s already too late—that it was too late the minute I walked back into my apartment and checked my Facebook account—but it’s something to strive for.