2009 Highlights - I Have Been to the Mountaintop...

I spent the early part of the year 2009 renewing work on a writing project that has been in my spirit since about 2000.  I think the highlight of my year was a week I spent completely alone at a cabin in the woods.  It was extremely remote, reached only by a very quirky 4x4 Suburban.  The place had propane lights, range and fridge, an outhouse that I shared with a spider (often more than one) and a gas powered generator that I used to charge the batteries on my laptop.  It was by far the best thing I’ve ever done for myself and I loved being there.  It was remote, very wild and very beautiful.  I felt absolutely no fear, slept with the doors and windows wide open and LOVED it!

I spent most of my time writing, I worked on the porches mostly depending on where I could get the most natural light.  If it was raining I would move to the covered porch, it it got too bad I'd work inside but that meant either turning on the generator, using candles or lanterns.  I often played guitar out on the porch and sang in solidarity with the trees and wildlife.  I curled up on the porch at night with a blanket to consider the many vivid stars and even saw a shooting star.  I used the antique propane range to cook my meals, I had produce from the farmer's market mostly, fruit, veggies, eggs and a loaf of hearty bread, some butter and olive oil.  I worked until I'd finish a chapter then take a break and make something to eat.  It seemed that the food all tasted far better than usual.  The whole experience was heavenly.  I was awakened at 3 am one morning by a bird flying around the cabin, I opened the screen doors and let the poor little thing out, what a lovely adventure!  Since I was up anyway, I went back to work on the book for a while then took a hike up the mountain to see the sunrise from the top.

There was also a considerable storm one afternoon and I couldn't even work on the covered porch anymore and it got very dark so I took a break to watch the storm.  When the rain stopped and the sun came out I was treated to the full court press of after storm misty beauty, it's a memory I'll always treasure.  It was such an amazing time for me, the storm, dawn on the mountain top...  I felt free and alive in a way that touched me deeply.  It's hard to put into words, even now all these months later.

I came home with a rough draft of my book and a great deal of excitement at this milestone in my life.  Since then I’ve set the project on a back burner again, feeling that there are a few chapters that are yet to come, or perhaps I’m just not ready to release it.  Either way, those days of being completely alone in the wilderness left me feeling free and more in touch with my spirituality and the wilderness than ever.  I loved it so much!

I saw rainbows after that storm, a number of them in the same day, mostly little bitty snatches of one here and there since my location was very tree sheltered.  As a matter of fact, the day I drove back into civilization I kept seeing rainbows along the drive home.  And once I was home there I saw a huge rainbow there, they sure are difficult to capture in a photograph, best stored up in one's heart!  It gave me hope that better things were coming my way.

Coming home was difficult, facing my world of external demands, commitments and material overload.  As I drove back into civilization my cell phone went off and I listened to a long list of phone messages, some of which were very demanding, followed by a stack of email when I got home and noise and commotion and a big mess in my kitchen.  It was an overwhelming and I felt the bliss slipping away.  Now I know that how you come back from the wild is as important as how you get there, lesson learned.  Next time I'll be more careful about the way I come home.  I loved it, I want to go back.  Soon I hope.  Maybe I’ll go back in 2010 to finish up that project or work on another.  I'm in no rush, some projects are made for years rather than months.  All in all, I think my week alone in the wild was one of the highlights of 2009 and I am very grateful that I had that opportunity!

(Outhouse with a view!  LOL!) 

Sometimes I think we are reluctant to do what we need to do for ourselves in order to live the best version of our lives.  It's so easy to get caught up in the sensory overload of pop culture and making a living and meeting external demands when sometimes... more than anything what we really need is absolute silence, a Bible, some thoughtful introspection, a journal, a guitar and time...  Give yourself a gift in 2010, take some time away for silence, contemplation and solitude.  It may turn out to be the highlight of your year.

Blessings,
-Carmen Rose

Embracing Solitude

I woke up this morning to an awful chirping beside my head that repeated it’s squalling every nine minutes until I whacked it to silence and crawled out of bed just to spite the darn thing. I remember thinking how good it felt to lay there and how I didn’t want to get up. That’s unusual. After a while I began to realize that something was a little “off,” this didn’t feel like a normal morning. Lately I’ve been waking up feeling like I’ve been run over by a cement truck in the night but this morning I stopped for a moment only to realize that for a moment there, nothing hurt. And for a moment longer… still… nothing hurt. I’ve grown accustomed to the habits of my body and notice the exceptions rather than the rule most of the time. And believe me, I’m grateful for this exception! Especially after the last few days.

So on the way home from work I was thinking how nice it would be to spend another morning walking in the woods looking at orchids (the putty root orchids should be out in force this week sometime and I would wear the right shoes to visit them without being eaten by copperheads this time!) Deadlines in the studio kept me from that idea but I decided on the spur of the moment to drop by the park. I rewarded my body with a leisurely walk around the pond at the park. It wasn’t an exercise walk, more of a “mosey.” I fed the fish and considered friends who have come and gone through my life. A sparrow caught my attention, he seemed to be hoping for a morsel. He was a rather bold little fella. “Pardon me Ma’am, could you spare a crumb?” Oh yes I could, so I fed him till he flew away. The ducks ignored me once they realized I had nothing for them so I made a mental note to bring something for the ducks next time. I passed a raven on the lamp post above the garbage cans. He did not fly away though I was very close so I stopped and spoke to him a while. He was unfazed and eyed me quite cooly.

Back in my kitchen I started a bag of scraps for the ducks. Right now it has the last cheesy biscuit and the heel from a loaf of cranberry orange bread I picked up on impulse at the farmer’s market. Lucky ducks. They are NOT getting the last cinnamon roll, that sucker has my name on it unless hubby gets there first.

We had guests over last evening so the house looks the best it has for a while. Hubby and I hung some artwork and mirrors over the weekend, and moved some furniture. It is nice to see progress in the house, there is so much renovation work that I'd like to do. The dog hair has been momentarily banished (until Hope or Misde shake or scratch again) and everything in the kitchen is in its “away place.” I should spend the week making soap or working at art glass but both of those studios are in my kitchen and I am not ready to part with the pristine neatness quite yet. So maybe I’ll spend some quality time with a series of quilts I’m working on. My quilt studio is in the basement I don’t ever really bother with trying to achieve neatness there, organization yes, neatness no. Or maybe I’ll spend a little time at the piano or settle in with the laptop and write a story. I've been thinking of a self portrait drawing, maybe I should give that some consideration. I also have a series of paintings in mind for the children's rooms. Or maybe I’ll stay right here and ease myself even deeper into the quietness. Sometimes I wrestle with the loneliness in the quiet of my life. Today I see the solitude and the silence as something to savor. This is a good day and I am grateful.