I-attended-a-weekend-reading-retreat-in-my-60s-Surrounded.jpeg

I attended a weekend reading retreat in my 60s. Surrounded by women of all ages, I learned more than I’d ever imagined.

In my 30s, I joined a book club but soon dropped out. Between juggling work and family, the last thing I needed then was another deadline, even a read-for-fun one.

Flash forward decades: I’m in my 60s now, the kids have flown the nest, and I have more downtime and love all things outdoorsy.

So when a friend suggested All Booked, a luxe reading retreat for women in New York State’s Catskill Mountains, I was excited to try book clubs again, especially this one-off weekend version.

When I signed up, I imagined lengthy chats surrounding the retreat’s featured trending book: “Mother Mary Come to Me,” a memoir by prize-winning author Arundhati Roy. We certainly had those.

But what made the literary getaway especially meaningful were the casual connections we shared as total strangers — eight women in our 20s to late 60s — about life, love, and living with intention.

The retreat’s luxe cabin was the perfect place for book chats and a reset


Exterior of a log cabin with bushes in front of it

The weekend retreat offered amenities, including a guided meditation and a hike in a gorgeous getaway-from-it-all location.

Sandra Gordon



Tucked among 12 wooded acres in Windham, New York, the weekend retreat’s luxury log cabin was straight out of Airbnb central casting, complete with pine exposed beams, stone floors, and a dramatic great room with soaring vaulted ceilings and cozy reading nooks.

The first night, we met our host, Suzanne, a former New York City journalist who headed to the Catskills a few years ago and never left.

We introduced ourselves with a favorite book recommendation over an Indian-inspired dinner of delicata-squash salad and curry-marinated chicken, a nod to featured author Roy, who calls New Delhi home.

After changing into our PJs, we gathered on yoga mats in the cabin’s loft for a guided meditation before padding off to our log beds.


Two beds in room of cabin

We slept in cozy beds.

Sandra Gordon



Introductions continued the next morning over a breakfast of blueberry scones and homemade granola.

Among us were two 20-something bookstagrammers, each with her own daunting stack of extracurricular romantasy novels to speed-read.

Their tripods and ring lights triggered the multitasking question that seemed to trail many of us these days wherever we went: Should we turn an experience into shareable content or power down and just enjoy it, conceivably leaving likes, followers, and revenue (from somewhere) on the table?

Aside from planning to snap a few photos, I am Team Commune with Nature.

Our multigenerational group bonded over books, nature, and a lively debate


Wood table with books on it

Our trip consisted of more than just reading.

Sandra Gordon



After a morning of quiet reading time, our group met at the Windham Path for an afternoon of forest bathing, which turned out to be a slow-motion hike led by Beth, our certified forest therapy guide.

Beth, who left a corporate job to embrace her calling as a forest therapist, invited us to wander off and “connect with a tree you are drawn to.”

After appreciating the bark, treetops, and stillness, we reunited with a tea ceremony. Beth poured tiny cups of tea steeped from pine needles from an insulated kettle.

Before sipping the sour reddish liquid, we were instructed to pour some on the ground to give back and thank the forest for its sustenance.

During Saturday night’s dinner, Suzanne moderated our discussion of “Mother Mary Comes to Me,” about Roy’s complicated relationship with her mother, Mary, which eventually led to this question for the group: Is it OK to go no-contact with your parents if they upset you?

The 20-somethings were Team No-Contact, while those of us in midlife and beyond disagreed because bad-parenting moments come with the territory, and well, family is family.

Our POV tracked with the memoir’s theme: Roy remained stubbornly devoted to her mom despite their lifelong turbulent relationship.

The connection and community I found that weekend reminded me that life is full of possibilities


Author Sandra Gordon smiling in front of trees

I left the weekend retreat with a new perspective.

Sandra Gordon



The next day, I came home intoxicated with pine-scented fresh air and nurtured by the experience.

Confession: In this chapter as an empty nester, I often feel nestless. It’s almost like I’m back in my 20s, asking fundamental questions again, such as: What should I do now? Where should I live now that I don’t have to be tied to a good school system?

However, spending the weekend with retreat members, including Suzanne and forest-bathing Beth, who’ve made bold midlife moves, reminded me that life is an open book, filled with exciting possibilities.

Meanwhile, I’ve been really noticing the trees during my daily walks, brushing up on my vlogging skills (inspired by the bookstagrammers’ industriousness), and seeking out even more ways to meet new friends of all ages.




Source link

I-rang-in-2025-on-a-solo-trip-Now-Id.jpeg

I rang in 2025 on a solo trip. Now, I’d happily celebrate every New Year’s Eve abroad and surrounded by strangers.

As the crowd cheered among the explosive crackle of fireworks, upbeat dance music, and cries of Feliz Ano Novo,” a surge of gratitude coursed through my body.

It was New Year’s Eve 2024, and I was hugging and cheering with new friends I had met just hours before.

Earlier that year, I’d spent two months gallivanting around London, Berlin, Amsterdam, Rome, Florence, and Prague solo. Although I loved returning home to San Francisco, it didn’t take long for my wanderlust to set in again.

I knew my thirst for adventure could only be quenched by revisiting Europe. I missed the walkable cities, the slower lifestyle, and the abundance of fresh food.

I decided I’d spend mid-December to mid-January abroad. After doing tons of research on the best cities for solo travelers, I settled upon Lisbon as my monthlong home base.

To avoid the holiday rush and the inevitable spike in prices and crowds, I left San Francisco on December 7 and made plans to head home about a week after New Year’s Day.

Lisbon was the perfect early holiday destination — and I got to connect with other solo travelers


The writer posing in front of a Lisbon landscape.

I connected with other solo travelers who became my companions for New Year’s Eve.

Chelsia Durkee



The first two weeks of my trip were a dream come true.

I loved spending my afternoons checking out bookstores (Livraria Bertrand is worth it), getting lost in the alleyways, taking in the vibrant art scene, and even trekking up a grueling hill to get to my local market.

Since I arrived early in the month before peak tourist season, I felt like I was experiencing Christmas markets and festivities alongside locals.

As December 31 approached, I began to crave some more companionship. So, I logged onto Facebook and searched for Girl Gone International’s Lisbon group.

An online community for women traveling solo, Girl Gone International had resources I’d utilized in the past. This was my first time scrolling through one of its Facebook groups in search of friends, though.

To my surprise, I stumbled upon tons of posts from other solo travelers, all hoping to find New Year’s companions. One in particular caught my attention: a post that said “I’m getting the girls together for a New Year’s celebration” with a link to a WhatsApp group.

She had a dog in her profile photo. What could go wrong?

That’s how I found myself eating steak and sipping Douro Valley wine at a table with eight strangers.

We all came from different countries and backgrounds: the Netherlands, Serbia, and South Africa, to name a few. We quickly bonded over our shared love of travel and the palpable energy of the night.

After dinner, a few other travelers from the Facebook group joined us. We squeezed our way into the crowds to the Praça do Comércio, the main square in Lisbon. The square was packed like sardines, and we held hands so we wouldn’t lose each other.

One of them held up a sign to make sure stragglers could see us. Amid the excitement, I witnessed the most spectacular fireworks display of my life.

My solo New Year’s celebration helped me connect with my values


The crowds celebrating the New Year in Lisbon.

Celebrating the New Year in Portugal was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Chelsia Durkee



After that epic night, the real magic of serendipitous connection took place.

I stayed in touch with two solo travelers and one local for the remainder of my trip. We met several other times to explore restaurants, visit parks, and even take a day trip to see castles in Sintra.

I believe that starting the year in a new country — and with new friends — softened my approach to achieving my goals. In the past, I felt pressured to set certain resolutions: Become fit, work harder, or be a certain way.

Instead of focusing on external validation or achieving rigid goals, though, I started the year with a focus on what actually brings me joy: adventure, global community, and authenticity.

I made new friends, too. Our short-lived connections empowered us to become vulnerable quickly, and I opened up in a refreshing way.

Ironically, it took leaving my country to remember that I am never truly alone.

Though this year’s New Year’s Eve will look a little different — I plan to spend the night locally with friends and family — I would happily ring in the New Year again with strangers in a foreign country.

No matter where I find myself in the world, I’m excited to continue bridging the gap between stranger and friend.




Source link