Only an hour away
We’ve been gone from home since the 21st – only a week really and we’re only an hour from home, but what a difference.
We’re fortunate enough to own a beautiful motorhome, really like a hotel on wheels. Our food is simple. Our floor space is just enough. Our clothing is just what we need.
At night we cook on a campfire under stars and a moon that shines partially behind pine trees. We’ve hiked to lakes and abaondoned cabins, lookouts and loops.
We wonder how different any of us would seem to someone living 150 years ago, living so far, as we do, from nature. What would someone from 150 years ago (1860 – so beginning of the Civil War time here in the States) think of us? Cell phones and internet and television and cars and bluetooth in cars and texting and often not knowing, really, where our food comes from. We eat foods from places they wouldn’t have had access to so they’d be unknown.
We decided, my wise husband and I, that we’d be practically a different species to them. We have the same hearts beating, we love, we fear, we hope, we cry, etc., so okay, we’d not be so different, but our lifestyle would be beyond what they could fathom.
I’ve also been able to be remotivated about my writing, did some beading, would have cross-stitched but I forgot a needle (it’s the little things), read, puddle-jumping between 4 books; Travels, The Soul of a Chef, The Next 100 Years, and Rumi. It’s been a delight.
I’ve had deep, long conversations with my husband at night. We’ve talked about our plans and goals and analyzed our 8 children and pondered the real reasons we desire wealth (has a lot to do with those 8 children).
We took a walk under a full moon one night.
You start to settle and slow into the rhythm of the mountains and nature after a day or two and wonder why you don’t do it more often. There is energy and inspiration floating everywhere out here. There is quiet. There is peace. There is spirit.
When I meditate my ideal situations in life – a week like this is one of them.
I’m so grateful.
