Right Where I Belong

Over the past four weeks, I've had the experience of visiting three major Midwestern cities.  While there are myriad opportunities and a wonderful energy in urban settings, like the late John Denver though, I feel like singing, "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" (or Girl, in this case!).  I am meant for life in a rural setting.  I belong in a small town with ready access to the outdoors where instead of backed-up traffic on the hot pavement, there are hay bales dotting the land.  Instead of the glare of city lights, there are the stars in the infinite sky.  Instead of the large, fast and impersonal, business is still done slowly, genuinely over a handshake with someone you've known all of your life.  I always enjoy cities because they have so much to offer, but I enjoy even more my departure from them when the cityscape gives way to expansive green space.  That's when I feel liberated to be my true self.  Such was the case today after my third city visit in a month.  I had a great time during each visit but I am thrilled to be back in the comfort and familiarity of small-town, rural life.  Right where I belong.

Sunrise, Sunset Offer Spectacular Light Show

There is no more spectacular light show for me than the daily rising and setting of the sun.  Yesterday morning, as we traveled east in darkness, the subtle mauve cast to the sky in front of us, that slip of light along the horizon, welcomed us to a new day.  Once again, I was reminded of my mom's favorite Biblical Scripture passage from The Psalms:  "This is the day that the Lord has made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it." As the sky brightened, silhouettes of lacy, leafless trees illuminated by the early-morning light, brought an elegance to the landscape.  With each breathtaking moment, the sky changed in color.  From mauve and dark violet to orange and cadet blue to an eventual cream and light blue, the day unfolded before us.  What a great way to start the morning -- with color, light and beauty, setting the stage for a lovely day to come.  This evening, we were transfixed by a brilliant sunset -- blazing orange and bright yellow blending into the ever-darkening sky.  Such drama is there for us to enjoy -- free of charge -- every morning and evening.  What a light show!

Orange Barrel Lessons

It was still dark when we traveled on the interstate this morning.  As we navigated a construction zone, a myriad of orange and white striped barrels seemed to pop up everywhere in the darkness.  It seemed difficult to know in which lane we should be driving, let alone where the lane was even located.  If I focused on the area right in front of our car, the way became clear.  If I looked out too far, everything was confusing and the right path too complicated to discern.  Our way became even clearer when we saw tail lights of vehicles in front of us.  Isn't that like life?  If we try to focus too far ahead, the way seems confusing and unclear.  If, instead, we focus on the moment before us, we can more easily see the path and it's far more enjoyable.  Along the journey, others may shine their light to help us find our way.  Living in the moment and giving our full attention to what's in front of us -- I believe that's the way to go.

Where Am I Going? And Why?

Who am I?  Where have I come from?  Where am I going?  Why?  These questions are fundamental to my life's journey, but how often do I ask them in order to shed light on my path?  The questions originated from my friend Don's encounter with security at an airport in the UK.  When taken in a different context, they can serve as a metaphor for life's bigger questions and our continuous quest for fulfillment and happiness.  I dare say that the answers are not always easily found and they will likely change with the seasons of our lives.  But I appreciate the act of pausing, asking, listening and reflecting on them, all the while having faith that I'm where I'm supposed to be right now.

The Power of Electricity

We got our first big snowstorm of the season today. Three inches of heavy, wet snow came down from early morning until about 3PM.  I thought I was prepared for it.  My snow brush had been moved from the trunk of my car to the floor of the passenger seat.  I had placed the rugs and boot caddies by the front and back doors.  I got out my boots and scarf and warm hat and had zipped the lining in my raincoat.  But mid-day while I was home for lunch, our electricity went out.  The heavy snow was weighing down utility lines and trees.  Likely, something finally snapped and poof! our electricity went out.  It's amazing how one takes things like electricity for granted.  Out of force of habit, Larry attempted to warm up his coffee in the silent microwave.  I tried to turn on a closet light.  Finally, we got out the hand-crank weather radio and settled in to the situation.  Fortunately, whatever went wrong was repaired quickly but, meanwhile, it made me realize how much I appreciate all that electricity does for us.  While at a natural history museum recently, we saw exhibits about the lives of long-ago Native and European peoples, none of whom had electricity in their abodes.  But I'm a modern-day creature who likes her comforts.  As I run our dishwasher and clothes dryer tonight, watch the television, open the garage door, and warm up something in the microwave, I'm doing so with gratitude for the gift, the power of electricity in my life.

Things In Common With Ariadne

I've decided that I'm the Ariadne Oliver of my day.  OK, perhaps not, but we do share some interests and beliefs.  Ariadne Oliver was a lesser known, but delightful, recurring character in Agatha Christie mysteries.  While we aren't soul mates, Ariadne and I do share a love for apples and a belief in intuition.  Ariadne was forever eating apples. I find myself doing the same thing this fall.  I can't seem to get enough of them.  Our refrigerator is rapidly filling up with bags of apples from Ski-Hi Fruit Farm.  My fear, it would seem, is that the orchard will close for the season and I won't be prepared with an ample apple supply to last me far into the winter.  As for the shared belief in intuition, I do indeed believe in and rely on that innate wisdom.  When we stop long enough to listen, really listen, I believe we have the capacity to hear that wise voice from within and to allow it to guide our decisions and choices.  Sometimes I don't want to hear that wise voice because it seems contrary to the louder voice in my head, but when I pay attention and allow myself to follow those nudges, right things happen.  Apple is my fruit right now, intuition is my guide and as I get older, I think I'm becoming more and more like Ariadne.

Fall Living Up To Its Name

I love weeping willows.  They remind me of the country property where I grew up.  As a young girl, at a time when I was reading enough British murder mysteries to know that properties could have elegant names, I thought our rural land should have been called The Willows.  Alas, it was not.  These days, weeping willows and oaks are some of the few trees still valiantly hanging onto their leaves.  Recently, Larry and I drove past some of those brave willows and oaks, as well as a variety of trees that had spilled their brilliant leaves in bright yellow puddles around their trunks.  Those trees are especially beautiful to me when they hold onto just the lower half of their yellow leaves, the luscious fall sun illuminating them and their fallen brethren on the ground.  Fall is living up to its name.