I worry about getting too entrenched in aloneness, too dependent on isolation as my pathway to productivity. I don’t want to exile myself from human connection. The goal and hope of artist retreats is to offer sanctuary and the possibility of true focus, but focus isn’t external. It’s more elusive than place or routine. Altering the circumstances of the body can trigger new focus in the mind, but I also believe that all our secluded cabins and predawn scribblings and shamanistic banishings of the internet are beside the point. They are tricks we play on ourselves, superstitions that might help us finish the next story or book but will eventually fail us. It would be terrible to think you couldn’t find your way back to focus just because one of many paths is blocked. Maybe the best thing is not to trust any one means of finding focus but only to trust the state itself. I hope I can learn how to extricate my focus from my solitude, to domesticate my silence
"domesticate my silence" hm.