"There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home…" - Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz
As I sit down to write this morning, I’ve been home from my wonderful 11 day Thanksgiving holiday for less than 24 hours. I’m struck more deeply than ever by how much I love my home, Luke and the quiet, consistent beauty of the woods where our home is nestled. I’m in that blissful ‘I never want to leave’ state of peace that coming home brings.
I’m also mindful that the events I experienced on this trip are rich territory for reflection now that I’m home, where reflection comes easily and nurtures me in so many ways.
Naturally, the memories of a fun, relaxing week with my cousin and her dogs in eastern Washington top the list. How we easily adapted when a dead battery aborted a planned hike out to Kamiak Butte, choosing to hike an urban trail, and stopping for coffee along the way. No lattes in the woods, and nature’s beauty abounds in the rolling hills of her small college community.
Although I love my morning walks with Luke, it was nice to have a break from our routine and to sip tea or coffee over a daily newspaper with comics (in color!) each morning. I saw a couple movies (5 minutes away vs. 60 miles) and enjoyed great food, including a traditional Thanksgiving feast. Each morning I awoke looking up at a piece of art woven by a friend here in Crestone. And, most important of all, just hanging out with my cousin in the beauty of her art-filled home made for a memorable trip. Friends who know us both say we’re more like sisters, and I agree.
Events at the outset of the trip are also on the reflection list, including how I navigated a situation that arose with the person I’d engaged to stay with Luke. When she didn’t arrive as planned, a friend came to rescue him from six hours in his kennel (I thought he’d be there a couple hours at most) while I was on the road to Denver some 200 miles away. After a restless night wresting with not having care for Luke and what seemed to be an aborted trip, my friend called and said “I want Luke to stay here with me while you’re away. Go. Have fun!” And, that I did.
As I settle in to sort mail, pay bills, stack wood along with other so called ‘chores’, I have the joy of reflection to look forward to in this season that, for me, evokes just that: going within and reacquainting me with me.
Reflection for the Week: What rich territory is available for you to reflect upon as we enter this winter season?