Occasionally the distractions of life seem nearly insurmountable. But here we go on, and here we go on, muddling, truddling, trundling along. Jamie grows in whispers and shoots, he mumbles under his breath his own secret language and he proclaims “Dadadadada” when he’s happy and “Mamamamama” when he’s crying. I put him down on his belly and he assumed the crawling position for the first time in his life. I think it’s because he was around older children last night – at the first UUCP potluck I’ve attended. Wonderful people, wonderful world. I find myself constantly lost in this reverie about what I’ve lost and what I’ve gained through leaving the great wild road…where would have been a better place to raise children, what have I traded for what? Family, community, the seasons, the farm vs. the great wild wilderness, the pull of the tides, the ache of the sunset over endless meadows, the long expanses of land. I don’t know what is better, how to qualify or quantify what is better or worse…what would be better or worse for a child. I know that I hate the congestion, the pollution, the zipping of cars, the humdrum of the highway and the barrage of billboards and trinkets that litter my visual space. I know that no matter how deep I go into a park here I can never feel quite lost, quite spacious and ancient. And I know that despite its silent beauty and deep whispers…the winter is hard. The winter is long. The winter is desolate and keeps you indoors, in front of screens, solitary and sedentary. But the rewards of the summer are grand and glorious. And the spiral of the seasons unfolds in the most holy way. I cannot simply reduce myself to thinking that it all balances out- it all evens out, yet one cannot win over the other. There are two realities and I am living this one. And perhaps the benefit of this one is that is imbues the wilderness with an innate sense of magic, specialness and sacredness that inherently lessens when you live and breathe in it. To take it for granted- that is the worst thing. So I have to keep returning myself to trust in that this is where I am supposed to be. At this time. In this place. With this life. And it holds its own wilderness – the wilderness of commitment, of trust, of relating to something that knows you and is known. Life is always, always.
“Well something’s lost, but something’s gained in living everyday” – Joni Mitchell