I overpacked: laptop, camera, notepads, chargers—you name it. But after arriving I realized it was less about what I needed to bring and more so what I needed to leave behind.
One of the most profound realizations I had during the retreat was just how much I had been standing in my own way. I found myself spending a lot of time shedding layers of doubt and perfectionism that had built up over time. In the absence of deadlines, social obligations, and self-imposed pressure, I began to trust my creative instincts more.
They tell me I will find
what I am looking for on the other side.
First travel through the trees,
over the moon, through the sky.
Allowing every living creature
to witness this journey.
Where the land meets the water
is where I stand to receive
the long awaited gift.
But to receive this one,
I must not open my hands
but rather look down
to see my reflection.
Writing in free form, without overthinking or editing as I went, became an almost meditative process. Words poured out with an urgency I hadn’t felt in years. The poems that emerged weren’t always perfect, but they were honest and unfiltered—a reflection of thoughts and emotions I’d been holding back.
With this name I was given a story.
A past, present, and a future.
But I think she is the root, and
I am her flower.
Instead of focusing on whether a poem was “good enough,” I leaned into the process of discovery—letting the words guide me rather than forcing them into a predetermined shape. This shift in perspective was liberating. It reminded me that creating isn’t always about the outcome; sometimes, it’s simply about showing up for the work and allowing it to take form- wherever it may lead. Sometimes it would even stray me away from writing itself and instead imagining the stories, drawing, or going on a walk. These pauses weren’t distractions; they were integral to the creative process, allowing me to approach my writing with renewed energy and clarity.
In the delicate dance of dawn’s embrace, the flower unfurls, each petal a stroke of artistic grace, whispering secrets of resilience and legacy. Like the multi-hyphenate creative woman, it knows no bounds, its roots anchored deep in the fertile soil of passion, reaching towards the sun with an insatiable hunger for realization. With each bloom, it tells a story of perspective, adapting to the shifting winds of inspiration, its colors a kaleidoscope of dreams woven into existence. Just as the flower transcends seasons, she transcends labels, embodying the essence of creation in all its myriad forms. Each facet of her being, a symphony of talents intertwined, painting the world with the arousing hues of her imagination.
By the end of the weekend, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment motivating me to submit my work to a book publishing grant. Not only had I made substantial progress on my poetry book, but I had also reconnected with the joy of writing itself. What felt like a daunting task now feels like an instinctual expression. It was a reminder that sometimes, the only thing standing between you and your creative goals is the space to focus and the freedom to not be perfect.
~ Lydia Asmerom-Hall aka Lydia Fiyori
Instagram: @lydiafiyori @ladibugstudios