When we turn on the windy mountain road on the heels of a rainstorm, we lose Internet connection. There is no cell phone, no Internet, no calls, no emails, nothing tugging at my heels. Stepping out of the daily stress and grind of life.
We laugh as we turned up the drive to the most magical space that will restore and return us to the core of who we are.
As I drop Barton off at his retreat, I drive by a field of sunflowers and lilies on the way back.
Stepping into the mountain air to come back to discover a new breath, a deep inhale of crisp morning air, an exhale of all that I am holding onto.
And I steep in the adventure of beauty, losing myself on a path of vibrant color.
And make my way back to the creek by the mountain.
The mornings, sitting by the creek. Dew on the grass catches my eye. Orbs of illuminating light, hundreds, thousands, all shimmering in the morning sun. Hanging off of a single blade of grass. Lined up in a row like peas nestled in their shell. Open. Out in the air. Shifting as the morning warms. Dropping off one at a time. Dissolving into the air. Enthralled by tiny universes.
Meditation on the rock.
Watching the caterpillar with antennas on both ends. Fascinated as he rolls over the rock’s surface. Getting too close to my feet, I move him away and he finds the same path, over and over. I am amazed at his perseverance to find his way and determination to continue climbing. What does a rock look like to a caterpillar? Until I move him to the banks surface, dramatically changing the trajectory of his journey, where he disappears into the dirt. Somewhere, he will find his way to settle into stillness, and then turn into a butterfly.
On the bank on the other side, a hollow tree trunk becomes full of life, housing ants that line its sides and insects that emerge. A space that was dying making way for what is living. We shy away from death. There is time when we need to throw out the dry flowers of the centerpiece. Yet, there is space made for all that is living. Inside the tree trunk, I am entranced by the lines of ants, the creature burrowing a tunnel for its home, the dragonflies in mating landing on the edge. In this space that seems like death, is bursting with life.
A butterfly lands on a leaf flattening its wings to stay as the wind blows.
Dancing among earth, rock, and water. Becoming aerodynamic to remain stable as the wind swishes the leaves this way and that.
There is much to learn from the natural world, one in which it is so easy to scurry past. Without distraction, I waken to the beauty, the adventure, the thrill of the stream beside the mountain.
Feeling the power of the creek, water rolling over rocks, smoothing out the rough parts, the sound of the creek ever present. In continual flow, movement, empowerment. The feminine divine. The holy woman.
And the full intensity of the flow of water.
Feeling the flow.
In the evenings, watching fireflies rise from the ground, at first dancing around the trees as they rise into the evening air, all dancing, their lights in synchronicity across the field. Illuminating the mountains with their collective glow.
Standing in the middle of a fairytale.
Writing around the fire, enjoying watching the flames dance and move, watching coals drop and simmer in their heat rising into the mountain air. Wrapped in a blanket as stories rise into the night air.
Here, I can breathe.
In the morning, early, meditation in the temple, the breath letting go what I had been keeping tight, listening, hands hot and tingling in the column of light. Watching the internal dialogue run and run and run, until it fades into the quiet calm of still waters. My hands hot and tingle as I settle into the silence.
Quiet.
Being in a holy space. With God. Resting with God.
Here, I can breathe.
When we stand still, we flow with the universe.
Leaving, there was one last treat.
Floating in salt water.
Fear rising and dissipating, layers being peeled away, deeper and deeper until I am floating in space, there is no body.
Fully free.
Home Take-away:
We all need a retreat to remove distractions, return to our center, come back to what is most meaningful in our lives. Where do you feel most alive? What does the space look like and feel like? What lessons do you find in nature?
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