You're invited to a Cosy Forest Retreat

Grab a coffee, don your walking boots and introduce yourself here on this post.

Hi friend, I’m Sophie, an introverted coffee loving creative. Welcome to Finding Simple & Calm, a place where I share the harsh realities of motherhood and being neurodivergent in my pursuit of a simple life in an overwhelming world. I’m also passionate about creative businesses, and I love writing about, and teaching, methods on how to reduce the overwhelm, spend less time doing the tedious business-y stuff, and more time being creative. I hope you can join me?

Picture the scene…

We meet in a forest, log piles and tall trees surround us. It’s autumn, the ground is littered with golden brown and crisp leaves fallen from above. There’s a chill in the air, but we wear a warm scarf and even warmer coats. Travel mugs steam with coffee and tea and hot chocolate, and we sip them as we walk and chat through the forest.

We stop at a clearing next to a fallen tree. There’s a large wooden table beautifully set under twinkling fairy lights. Cushions and blankets are scattered around, ready to get wrapped up in. We eat from a buffet of party food, there’s cake and biscuits and endless tea and coffee. At the table we chat and the conversation flows - because it’s all relatable, and we are each others people. We belong here.

But we’re introverts, and chatting and socialising makes us tired. So, when we’re ready, we head to our cosy cabin in the woods on our own. We read and wear fluffy bed socks. There isn’t a ‘big light’ in sight. Only soft, twinkling fairy lights and lamps. Sleeping feels easy and effortless, and we drift off for hours and hours of uninterrupted bliss.

In the morning we’re woken to soft birdsong. There’s a big teepee for group gatherings in the middle of the forest. It’s a place to meditate, read, journal or shelter from the rain and talk to each other. Here, within the teepee, is where we are taught new things. There’s workshops and talks about how to make things easier, how to simplify things so that you can spend more time being creative, or with your loved ones. But there’s also raw and honest conversations here too, and people are encouraged to share their realities. Because we understand, we’ve been there, we are there, and it’s important to know that we’re not alone.

There’s no expectation here in the teepee. You can share as much or as little as you’d like to. Many of us are neurodivergent and some days we have more spoons than others. Some days we have more headspace and capacity and energy to discuss our passions. Other times, it’s perfectly acceptable to sit silently and listen. You won’t be called rude, or miserable. You are free to come to every workshop and learn new things, or to simply come and listen to the conversations that feel relevant. We invite you to take what you need and leave the rest.

Once we leave the teepee, we’re free to explore the rest of the forest. There’s a large, still lake with a jetty long enough to stroll along and feel like you’re walking on the water. It’s so incredibly peaceful here. You look around and notice others walking nearby in the forest, some are sat on picnic blankets scribbling in journals, others are taking pictures of leaves and flowers.

Everyone here is doing their own thing, but we are all connected in some way. There’s a calling and a belonging and a sense of home here in this forest retreat. We can’t stay forever, sometimes we have to leave to go to work and parent or tidy our homes and cook dinner. But we’re always welcome to come back, first thing in the morning over a cup of coffee, or last thing at night when everyone else is asleep. And at weekends you can stay longer and really explore the forest retreat and everything it has to offer here.

This forest retreat is this Substack publication, and you are always welcome here.

If you’d like to join the retreat, we’d love to have you. Please introduce yourself in the comments, leave your Substack link so that we can find you, and tell us what you’re drinking and what biscuits/ cake you’re bringing. I’ll meet you there…

Speak soon,