Whelp, I think it’s been long enough since I last wrote!
Last
winter when I pack up my life and two dogs, and drove to Montana, I was
on a mission to fulfill a dream of
mine. Since I can remember, the wild woman in me has dreamt of living in
solitude, in a cabin (or above a barn in this case), tucked in the
mountains somewhere serene, covered in a snowy winter, all bundled up
with my dogs in front of a fireplace.
Thanks
to perfect timing and a gracious friend, who coincidentally has "this
place" in Montana, I was able to live out this dream of mine. It is in
“this place” where I spent a couple months in, I guess, what many would
call a retreat. It was here that my goals were to intentionally give
myself the time to read the pile of books I've put
aside, purposefully journal, practice my yoga, walk my dogs, horse-back
ride, and just learn to sit and
be still. I found myself once more day-dreaming and being okay with it. I
taught myself to actually make time each day to stop moving from task
to task and try to become a little bit more self-aware. Every day was
baby steps in the direction I wanted. I wanted to live in an environment
where I could push aside the minutia and live simply with intention.
For me, this meant I had to somewhat isolated myself in effort to start
living how I wanted. Coming from a fast moving, ever busy, competitive
and consuming southern California society, I was going against the grain
by moving out to a ranch in a Montana winter. Many people didn't
understand why I was moving (I didn't have a job waiting for me) or that
I would last longer than 2 weeks. I am hoping they are pleasantly
surprised to see that I'm still here and happy.
Even though this was a personal goal of mine which I
finally took the time to fulfill, it didn't make it easy. All the chaos I
had in California, I still carried with me into Montana. Feelings of
impatience, anxiousness, worrying about my future and lack of career,
accompanied by my competitive nature and pressure from family and
friends to find success was constantly feeling like an internal battle.
It was my instinct that kept directing me to not focus on those
feelings of insecurity, but to be quiet, stop worrying so much and take
the time to reflect on why my life wasn't going as I wanted. In some
ways, I was cleaning out my
closest of personal baggage, addressing the crap I didn’t want in my
life
anymore and finally letting it go.
It was really boring and lonely at times. I
remember when I
first got there, unpacked and settled in, I thought,
“okay, I’m ready. I’m alone, safe and comfortable, I have everything I
need…so this is a retreat...this sucks." Where was the lightening bolt of
self-awareness and insight on what I should do with my life? Why was I
still feeling anxious? Oh--because retreats aren't easy. Quieting your
mind and learning to be alone is hard. Self-reflection sucks, because
you find truths that sometimes hurt. So there's that. In spurts of
feeling esoteric, I would open my arms and ask the universe for growth
and wisdom and peace. Ah yes, the universe will deliver. But I forgot
to ask the universe to make it less painful, and the meaning in the
words growing-pains proved true.
I
put myself in a place where
I could shut out the world for a little while. No Internet, no TV, no
easy immediate stimulation to distract me from the present. And, I am so
glad I did! I highly recommend it. In all, I was very blessed to have
that opportunity and am grateful that I went for it.
Of
course, sooner or later retreats have to end. But hopefully you walk
back into this crazy chaotic world feeling a little bit more sure-footed
and at peace with your journey. Mine ended with spring's arrival and a surprising
beginning of something wonderful.
Here's to many more bends in the road, and places where good stories come from.