Can’t face the to-do list today. Escaping to the country for a little while, where the wind…she’s running in ripples through long, yellow strands of winter grasses, whispery and playful. Then up through the bushes and tree tops she goes to roar. As I begin to walk down a track here on our land, she’s under my chin, tickling and lifting up my wispy hair. Exhilarating. A chance to shuck the cares of the day and be simple in this place of raw beauty.
Away from the weights of city thinking and pacing, away from perspectives of feeling lost between my old life and a new one still emerging. Away from feeling that God is distant. Here in the wilderness I sense His calm and joyful wildness. I might think new thoughts here, listen to Love, Joy, and Peace. The solitary place invites different companions along for the journey.
My husband Kent was showing our land to a former student in town for a visit. I felt like I couldn’t keep up with their pace nor the path through some rugged spots. I’m still recovering from some challenging congestion, so I chose to walk alone at a pace and in a space I could easily conquer.
I like being alone sometimes, but lately this feeling of being in limbo between two worlds, old and new, persists…and I feel a bit lonely. Maybe I’d like to talk more about my feelings of leaving behind our home of nearly 20 years. Or about silly things like not being able to run to the grocery store whenever I feel like it. About the challenges of not feeling completely well and wanting so badly to run and keep up with everything. Whack bushes to clear paths and home sites. Chase the children. Eat ice cream and cookies with everybody, but food allergies and leaky gut forbid that.
I’d like some companionship as I figure out what to keep and what to let go of. But then I’ve always worked mostly alone so it’s hard to invite people in…especially to the extra messes of my downsizing projects. And it’s just an odd season of not feeling quite as connected to most of my friends and family. One friend is unavailable now as she tends a mate with cancer. Other friends are just so darn busy that you have to make appointments to see them—no guilt intended.
It’s just the way things are. The potential remains to grow deeper with family members and our growing intentional community. But again everyone has stuff to do up to their necks, trying to stay above the ever rising waters of maxed out schedules.
Yet there is a Companion for all the moments, especially the lonely moments—no appointments needed. Here when I’m facing decisions of what to keep from a lifetime of stuff, what to let go of. Who is always available? It’s the comforting presence of the Counselor. I can ask for help and watch the heart. Where is peace? Where is joy?
What will it be like to have a clutter-free home, serene with new breathing spaces? Only a few things around the house really give me joy—a lamp with a candle in it from a dear friend, a salt lamp that daily cheers me in my office, a teapot from England, some books, well, more than a few books—I do adore books. Everyone in this household is a certified bookworm. Books will be the hardest to let go of.
Let the wind sift and rake over the land and over me. Let me soak in the Love here in the solitary field. Then I’ll head home to begin the sifting and raking there—to find what’s lovely and wanted for the journey ahead, to let go of what’s no longer useful or heart-cheering. Let go, let go, let go. And rest at last in “Less is More.”
In the days ahead I’ll enjoy the Companion of all the seasons, and I’ll borrow the free beauties of nature—watch a wheeling hawk on a majestic ride in a blue-bowl sky, a luminous silver moon rising above the silent trees, sweet bluebonnets and bright Indian paintbrushes cheering the winter-seared brush.
Can’t see further need of having lots of stuff in view of all that outdoor wealth, can you?
What is your plan in 2018 for ‘collecting’ and enjoying more of nature instead of more stuff? How will you include God in your daily life as a companion for all the different moments?