A Pender Island Winter Reset

I’m a freelance marketer, writing words to help sell things—even though, deep down, I think we operate in a world with altogether too much marketing and too many things.

This stark contradiction sits with me; it’s a low hum behind everything I do. But my day-to-day is filled with Slack notifications, never-ending deadlines, and an onslaught of emails. There's no space to really take it out, to hold this sensation in my hands and examine it. Any thoughts I do have flit through my mind but never really get a chance to land. By Friday, I usually find I have no mental energy left to really think about the juicy bits.

So every year, I make a pilgrimage (call it a business retreat if you want to) to get away from all the deadlines, notifications, and distractions that seem to get in the way of the deep concentration that can help make this career more meaningful, more purposeful.

Last year, my pilgrimage took me to Pender Island, where I designed a made-for-me getaway to actually think about the bigger picture. I gave myself permission and that much-needed space to breathe. It also meant I didn’t have to think about the dishes, the laundry, or my endless to-dos.

And then it rained all weekend long. And my heart started singing. My brain reset.

Pender turned out to be the perfect mental recalibration. With the constant downpour, this weekend gave me forced solitude. Being in a home away from home also ensured I wasn’t trying to fit in chores around my deep work.

Pender offered the hermitage I needed to think about the big stuff. It helped me lay out all the pieces of my professional life for the year ahead and explore how my work could serve my life, rather than the other way around.​

What did this look like?

I took many impossibly wet forest walks up to the top of George Hill, walks that let my mind wander and lay the groundwork for the larger vision scribbled out in the afternoons.

In the afternoons, I took myself on dates to the Vanilla Leaf Bakery Café, journal in hand, working out my thoughts over cappuccinos and croissants.

When I needed a break from thinking through the hard bits, Twin Island Cider was nearby. On an especially dreary afternoon, I was lucky enough to catch the owner behind the counter, offering sweet musings about his ingredients, and equally sweet sips of local beverages.

Then, every night, the cloud cover always miraculously dissipated in time for a spectacular winter sunset over Prevost Island—sunsets that were witnessed in all their glory from the deck of my oceanside accommodation.

Sure, if you were to peek inside my brain today, you’d see my many internal contradictions still there, simmering away. But after Pender, at least, I was able to shift some of this negative self-talk. Now, a year later, I can feel it's well past time I set sail on another recalibration—this time, perhaps, on a different Southern Gulf Island.

For more to do on Pender Island, visit: https://southerngulfislands.com/islands/pender-island/