As we unpacked from our trip to Belize, our skin tanned from two weeks in the Central-American sun, our conversations continued. Belize seemed to be our best fantastical dream yet. The air was warm and the water was warm and the cost of living was less than it was in the Bay Area. The details were exciting and my skin prickled with enthusiasm.
Along the way, we started to imagine a community there made up of all of our friends, who also had children that were going to launch. They became part of our dream. And because we’d been there, we could picture a big palapa with its thatched room and warm breezes at the end of a pier. “Gwynne could teach pilates on the palapa! And Jessica could teach dance! Jennifer could take beautiful photos of all of it for our website! And I’m sure someone can lead meditation,” I said, giddy with possibility, as I pictured our imaginary water and art center perched on golden sand at the water’s edge. And I, the literary magazine editor, would talk about craft with other writers who loved talking about craft.
Then there were the logistics… Where would everyone sleep? Who would cook the food? We’d definitely need a big table for the writing workshops, and there would need to be lots of hammocks and comfortable places to sit while people thought about the essays they were working on or brainstorming for the next discussion.