I took a 24-hour solo retreat last week. Before I left, I set a specific intention—to rest, to create space for clarity, and to look for magic. Cringe, I know. But that’s what came up for me—I needed a little magic. You know what I mean? Clarity that comes at just the right moment--a gut knowing that confirms what you've suspected was true. The little symbols that bring hope and remind you to trust in something bigger. The people you meet out of the blue who point you in a direction. That’s what I needed from 24-hours spent in a bed and breakfast 20 minutes from my house—just a little magic. And I got it.

Within minutes of pulling out of my driveway, clarity began to settle over me. Suddenly, I knew it was time to let go of some things, and that was going to be okay. I needed to release my idea of success, to let go of outcomes and the need to be in control. I recognized the ego I'd been operating from, and so I repeated to myself, “Let it go” and kept driving.

I arrived at the bed and breakfast feeling a little more sure of where this retreat was heading only to find the house empty. Not even the owners were there yet. I had tried multiple ways to get friends to join me for dinner so I didn’t have to be alone, and they all fell through. The silence of that big, beautiful house was confirmation— "No squirming out of the discomfort. It's time to get still and listen."

By the time I opened my door and saw the room’s theme I had to laugh. The Nest. I’d included a visualization in a meditation just days before for an Artist’s Way + Yoga workshop I taught. I compared the second chakra, the seat of creativity, to a nest cradling beautiful eggs, each full of potential, each needing nurture and care. Nests and birds popped up everywhere during those 24-hours. Chickens in the yard. A sign in the spa where I went for a massage. Confirmation again—time to slow down and let go, to nest.

Feeling more relaxed, I got out my journal and started writing about an idea that came to me during a 2022 retreat. I wanted to host retreats like the ones I take for other creatives. I wanted to guide them through the process of letting go, resting, and making space for inspiration. But I hadn't time to flesh out the idea in the past 12 months. A I journaled, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Soon I had an outline and the beginnings of something. (Where will it lead? No idea. I’m trying to let go of outcomes, just a little.)

And then the best magic of all. As I was going into a shop I heard, “Christa?”

I turned to see a student, Claire, who’d been at my Artist’s Way workshop the previous weekend.

“I’ve never been to Pittsboro before,” she said.

“Me neither,” I said. “Small world. What are you doing here?”

“I met a friend for lunch.” She gave me a funny look. “I was literally just telling her about your workshop. And then you crossed the street right in front of my car. I had to come and see if it’s really you. I couldn’t believe it. That’s something, isn’t it?”

It was. It was magic. Confirmation. Synchronicity. A tap on the shoulder from the universe: “You’re going in the right direction, and you’re not alone.”

This is the power and magic of a retreat.

I can be all kinds of wary about putting too much weight in coincidences, magical thinking, and privilege disguised as flow. But through experience, I’ve also come to trust this process. For me, the best inspiration comes when I create space and ask for—even demand—answers.

And you can do the same--try it! If you have a chance to create a retreat for yourself this week, do it. Twenty-four, forty-eight, four hours—it doesn’t matter. If you need direction, clarity, to believe in magic again, to come more fully alive, make the space, ask for what you need, and stay open. Who knows what might come up?