Winding Down…

Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Cabin near Salida, CO

Well, I’ve been taking an inventory of sorts…

Tomorrow I drive to within an hour of home, to Santa Fe, NM. I’ll reunite with my darling husband in a fancy hotel (ooh la la!!!) and I’ll attend another continuing education conference on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings. Ted and I will spend those afternoons and evenings together away from the demands of our regular life (I’m only vaguely sure what that is any more…), transitioning back into our couple’s connection before returning fully to being home together.

Thus far I have driven 3765 miles in 19 days. (Gratefully this counts toward the less than 20,000 miles I have put on my van over the last 3 years, so I don’t feel too guilty…) I have camped in the van 11 of those nights, stayed at friend’s homes 4 nights, stayed in a motel on 2 nights, and tonight will be spending my second night in a remote rented cabin, before heading to Santa Fe tomorrow. I’ve completed 1 novel, 1memoir, will have completed 2 other nonfiction books, and will have collected 27 hours of continuing education credits by the time I return fully home. I’ve been on the beach, in the redwoods, slept in my van at 7000 feet in 22degree temperatures (as well as in a parking lot), driven in sunshine, fog & rain, and awoke to dark skies and snow flurries this morning. (In the last 30 minutes nearly an inch has accumulated.) I’ve hiked, biked, read, written, drawn, waded in the Pacific, washed my face in cold mountain streams, followed rivers, climbed mountain passes, gazed upon a rich variety of wildlife, and spent time and worshipped with dear friends.

I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, been moved, felt inspired, been silent, been chatty,(but mostly silent), thought a zillion thoughts and felt many feelings in response to those thoughts. I’ve taken risks, stretched beyond my comfort limits, felt more my place in the natural world, felt proud of myself, and ever so lucky… I’ve felt very even, not at all reactive or volatile in my moods or responses. I’ve been thoughtful and aware, and quite
indulgent of whatever I might have felt moved to do at any given time. It has been good in every way…

I think my biggest fear now is that I’ll return home and will lose track of something as of yet hard to name, or articulate, that I’ll forget to live out of the place in me that has been so available; certain, easy, and connected to the all without losing a connection to myself. That I’ll allow worry, anxiety, the stress of living my ‘regular life’ crowd out this peace and ease with which I enter into each day. That would be so sad…

I began this trip with much recall and reflection about the past. I guess my route through California triggered that process, along with the life/time demarcation of my turning 50. I have purposefully chosen to spend this “winding down” time someplace that holds no history for me, a place of novelty mystery, and possibility. I’m in a cabin at 8600 feet, on the back side of the Collegiate Peaks in central Colorado. The peaks are spectacular, snow covered, and rugged. The cabin is near the mouth of a canyon, 9miles east of Monarch Pass.

The weather thus far today has swiftly alternated between sunny blue skies with mild breezes to roaring wind and blinding blizzard driven snows. It has gone back and forth between these extremes at least 8 or 9 times over the past 12 hours. Funny, I feel only curiosity, not anxiety or angst. I’m comfortable that whatever happens, I am up to the task. I don’t need to anticipate the worst and move into action. Instead I feel calm, and that I’m up for whatever comes down the pike (or the canyon as it may be).

That’s the sort of ease that I have discovered and enjoyed on this trip. The ease to listen and respond to whatever calls to me in the moment, the ease to sit in wonder as I gaze at all that is around me, both within and without, the effortlessness of simply noticing and deciding what is next, the straightforwardness of stepping into the action that calls to me, the simplicity of being responsible for and accountable to only myself.

This journey has provided an opportunity for me to clarify something deeply personal, something essential to my life purpose. From this clarity, this ease, I trust that how I go forward from here will be affected. The clarity and ease I have discovered can only inform the actions I am moved to take outwardly, in the world at large. All of this inner journey must somehow result in a response, as of yet unformed, but important; some outward sharing and celebrating of this inner transformation, subtle and tender as it seems. That will be the true measure of the value of this journey methinks. That going within necessarily informs how I will be from here on; in my relationships, in my work, and in the greater work of the world…