“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
It’s the sentence Jack Torrance obsessively types over and over in The Shining, a chilling marker of his irreversible descent into madness. Yet on its own, the phrase feels entirely reasonable. Even in his state of insanity, Mr. Torrance unintentionally stumbles onto a truth about burnout.
According to a 2026 survey by the National Alliance on Mental Illness focused on full-time employees across industries, 53 percent of respondents reported feeling burned out because of their jobs. Another 39 percent said they felt so overwhelmed it became difficult to perform at work, while 38 percent said workplace demands had negatively impacted their mental health.
I’ve dealt with my fair share of burnout — largely due to the creative nature of the work I do. Burnout can happen in any industry; in my experience, the constant need to produce can quickly snowball into overwhelming territory, especially when you’re always trying to raise the bar and create something more substantial than what came before. There’s a persistent internal pressure and a need to constantly say “yes” because you never know what could lead to the next great story.
Back in November, however, I found a solution that worked well for my situation. Enter the concept of a personal retreat.
Returning to Creativity
Before writing became a full-time job for me, it was merely a hobby. Well, more like a first love. Some of my earliest memories involve writing poems on my aunt’s desktop computer and filling notebooks with stories while my mom illustrated beside me. I later studied creative writing at Columbia College, immersing myself in the work of astounding novelists and poets while idealizing a future where I would publish my own novel or collection of poems.
Instead, I became a magazine writer. Slightly different, but it has nonetheless scratched that creative itch and allowed me to do what I love most. On the flip side, I sacrificed creative writing — because when you write day in and day out as a career, it can feel more like a chore than a creative outlet.
So I was overjoyed when I learned about Midwest (formerly Missouri) Women Who Write, a local group that brings together women from Missouri and neighboring states for an afternoon of learning, community, and, of course, creative writing. Its upcoming gathering would allow me to set aside a designated time, among a pool of other avid writers, both professional and recreational, to hold myself accountable. And, perhaps most importantly, I could disconnect from the career side of writing, filled with deadlines, the chaos of juggling interviews, and the previously mentioned internal pressure, and simply write for pleasure at my pace.
I was also intrigued to learn that the first retreat I planned to attend would be hosted at Mount Nebo Inn, a cozy restaurant, wine bar, and lodging tucked into Rocheport. Though the small trail town is only about 20 minutes from where I live, booking the Trail Side Suite for the weekend made the experience feel like a world away — a retreat within a retreat.
As soon as I arrived, I noticed that my mind began to slow down. From the parking lot, I could see what awaited me: A relaxing patio extended from the rental unit, overlooking an outdoor dining area adorned with bistro lights and a chicken coop overflowing with free-roaming birds. The air felt lighter, and even though it was early November, the warmth of the sun persisted. I was amazed by the beautiful building, which I would later learn had been converted from a 100-year-old church.
The peaceful feeling continued as I brought my bags up to the unit, which was connected to the dining room by a simple windowed breezeway that kept the lodging separate from the liveliness of the evening scene, yet close enough that I could later join in. Inside, the suite included a claw-foot bathtub, a full kitchen with a coffee machine, and a vast collection of mugs featuring sunflowers.
A Different Pace
As a feature of Mount Nebo Inn, owner Drew Lemberger offers guests who book an overnight stay a few experiential activities, including cellar and vineyard tours and tastings in the neighboring fields and facilities, as well as a boat tour along the Missouri River. Immediately, I knew that excursion would have to be part of my trip, combining an educational aspect with relaxing wine tasting and exploration. I hit “select” on the vineyard tour.
While I had intentionally centered the retreat on reconnecting with creativity and taking a pause from the hustle of daily life, I learned that Lemberger’s journey reflected another side of restoration — recognizing when a long-held career path no longer aligned with the life he wanted to build. Rather than abandoning the hospitality and wine industry to which he had devoted much of his professional life, he reshaped his experience into something slower, more personal, and more connected to place.
Lemberger, who purchased Mount Nebo Inn in 2018, has long been interested in food and wine, and his passion for the business quickly became evident. He started cooking in restaurants in high school, working at family-owned establishments and moving through various roles, from busboy to server to bartender. He attended the University of Missouri’s School of Natural Resources and, after graduating in 1992, enlisted in the army — though he never strayed far from the industry and, in fact, tapped into something a little bit genetic.
“That wildlife dream kind of ran its course,” says Lemberger. “For whatever reason, I got really into wine. My mom’s side of the family all worked for Anheuser-Busch, so they kind of had that time with alcohol production as a career.”
Lemberger explained more of his journey as he drove us through windy roads, shaded by orange-tinged leaves. I imbibed whatever he had just poured me from the cooler.
“My last bigger job, I was a VP for Les Bourgeois [Vineyards], and I was a partner then, running the retail division,” says Lemberger. “If it wasn’t wine production, I managed all of the other stuff — the catering, A-Frame, The Bistro, and group tastings.”
Lemberger left Les Bourgeois in 2018 when a planned buyout fell through, and he decided to focus more on the smaller businesses he had been running concurrently: a river-guide venture and a wood-milling /boat-building business. At this point, he was able to scale them up further and began scouting a location to build his own winery as well. That is, before the Mount Nebo Inn location became available for purchase.
During the vineyard tour, we visited several locations. At each, Lemberger explained grape harvesting and the wine production process, sharing the different pruning methods growers use and pointing out how the woody horizontal growth will be trimmed back each year to spurs. All the while, we sipped joyfully on reds and whites and watched the sun begin to set in the distance. Even though we were trying to beat nightfall, there was never a sense of being rushed.
Of course, the drinks played a role in helping me unwind, but really, it was the surroundings and Lemberger’s stories of his entrepreneurial passions that I found most refreshing.
One of my favorite parts of staying at Mount Nebo Inn is that it feels simultaneously removed from the larger Columbia orbit while still providing opportunities for connection. One evening during my second visit, I took a stroll down to the river, where I caught another sunset and was greeted by an orchestra of bird calls. I brought my camera and managed to capture a highlight of the moment, though the photo I took hardly compared to the natural beauty unfolding around me in real time.
I sat for a while on a nearby bench, reflecting on how present I felt — not thinking about the work waiting for me back at the office, but instead watching the sun’s final rays dance across the water.
Maybe it sounds a little “woo-woo,” but I couldn’t deny the sense of interconnectedness between the world around me and my own being. Gaining perspective on the world around you can certainly make you feel small, but in an empowering way. That email I had been worried about two weeks earlier suddenly seemed insignificant. Instead, all I could think about was how fortunate we are to play even a small part in this grand, beautiful life.
I followed the tranquil moment by spending the evening listening to a local musician in the inn’s dining space and people-watching between songs. As I sat there, I found myself thinking about the persistence required to pursue any passion creatively or professionally. I wondered what adversities a band might face, yet they continue showing up night after night because making music is what they love.
I thought about Lemberger, too, who told me the path to opening his restaurant and wine bar — packed with guests the evening I visited — was far from easy. The river flooded in 2019, shortly after he opened, and COVID hit in 2020. Yet despite the setbacks, both the musician playing that evening and the inn surrounding me stood as reminders that fulfillment rarely comes from a life free of hardship, but from continuing to pursue what makes life feel meaningful.
By the end of the weekend, I realized the retreat hadn’t magically erased stress or responsibility from my life. What it had done, however, was interrupt the endless cycle of productivity long enough for me to reconnect with creativity, curiosity, and presence — the very things that can become dulled when work begins to occupy every corner of your identity.
