Mountain Dreams

Something happened today in the two hours of silence and sharing with my spiritual direction partner. Something shifted in me. I did not realize until she left that I felt really different than I had for months. Something had opened, something was gone, and I had a renewed energy, not physical energy, but a spiritual energy. It was like breathing the air around a glacier in the Canadian Rockies.

For more than a dozen weeks and especially the last two, I have lived separate from my regular daily life. I put my writing aside and barely kept the house up as my husband and I investigated, explored, fell in love with and let go of two properties in the North Carolina mountains. It is a humbling experience to find a new space on this green earth to put down roots, make a home and create memories that will last the lifetimes beyond our own. I threw myself into the search and the process, all the while mindful of the need to be grounded in this moment and not to go too far down the path of my dreams. Finding such a place seems to us a good way to connect ourselves, our children and children of the future to the generosity and love my dear in-laws have given us.

The first property we found was four acres of forest on a road to an old firetower off a road that just stops running. It is remote and quiet and beautiful in the peace of the dark woods. The second property is a house with a breathtaking view atop a ridge near the Blue Ridge Parkway. The house is just what I had envisioned for our extended family gatherings: plenty of room for playing cards, dominoes and scrabble, a kitchen roomy enough for a couple of cooks and some observers, five beds and a greatroom to sleep a few more on those wonderful airbeds, a porch, patio, and woodland garden entrance like a house in the woods should have. For reasons too complicated to go into and beside the point, neither of these worked out.

The property search process is like being swallowed by the whale. You get into it and just have to move with the flow in the your specified locale. We traveled the mountains and valleys as we considered houses in three counties, navigated the choices and options of building rather than buying, and learned the ins and outs of purchasing a second home and of owning in the mountains versus the city. We talked over our current and future finances and our relationship, reconfirmed our dreams and our values, envisioned our future in dozens of houses and pieces of property and experienced the loss that comes when one chooses to step aside from a place that at one time seemed so perfect. My parallel journey included coming to terms with childhood fears, naming what I really want, communicating clearly, listening to my true self, speaking my truths, allowing the process to work in me and letting go. Like Jonah, I felt spent and spit out by the whale when I sat down with my friend for spiritual direction.

I noticed that the search process began in October, nine months ago, and the intensity increased over Easter weekend when we first walked and considered the land. I don't know what to make of these time frames but I can't help but notice the suggestion of gestation, incubation, growing in the process or rebirth, creation of a new life, the emptiness of the tomb, and the promise of something great beyond this time and place.

The shift in me is a shift in focus from the mountain search back to my writing, from the external to the internal, from the future to the present. I know that these weeks have not been in vain. I trust that the process has allowed me explore my response to abundance, desire, letting go, listening to my intuition and speaking my truth. I believe we will find a perfect mountain home. I turn to this writing grounded even more deeply in faith and hope and my life's meaning. I continue to do what is in front of me each day, grateful for the journey.

Namaste

On Sunday the sermon reminded us to create "sanctuary" for each other and for those who join us at church. The minister wondered if we could be more hospitable, if we could find it in ourselves to focus on welcoming others, even those that we unconsciously turn from. When she mentioned the word namaste as a way to approach our relationships with others, I thought of an experience this week I had with a woman I met briefly. I probably will not see her again, but we had an instant connection of loving kindness and compassion. Namaste is loosely translated by the yoga set to mean, "The Divine in me sees or honors the Divine in you" or "The light in me is drawn to the light in you."

When I met the elderly woman she was sitting on her porch reading a religious book about talking with Jesus. I knew she was going through a difficult transition, so I kept myself peaceful and opened my heart to her. Over the course of the hour or so we spent together, we spoke just a little. Mostly we smiled with our eyes and acknowledged each other with our hearts. It was as though we shared a special language. Her life is drawing to a close. She saw me standing in the life stage she had loved so much. We did not need words to communicate. We did not need to talk about facts and details. We just needed to smile and let our eyes say, "Namaste" for our hearts.