I have had a life changing three days. Three days alone in the mountains with my mother and Rick, and a life changing author.
When I was a child, my mother read and reread this series of books entitled Woodswoman. They were always laying around, the blonde woman smiling from the various covers in some form of watercraft with her german shepherds protectively by her side. I knew that this woman had helped to shape the dreams my mother had for what her life should be like, but never felt truly compelled to read them for myself.
Four or Five years ago, my mother had the honor of meeting this woman, studying with her, and eventually being invited to her remote Adirondack camp, (the location of my own mother wouldn't even share with me!) and help her to organize her thirty years of writings. This woman, Anne Labastille, has been my mother's hero for as long as I can remember, and so, Thursday night, fearing I wouldn't be able to fall asleep in the strange location, in the complete blackness and silence, I strapped on my headlamp, cracked open the first book and began formulating my own future desires!
I read the book in about 6 hours, finishing the second the following night in a mere three. And while I do not want to retrace her particular steps, (living on 22 acres in the depths of the Adirondack state park with only a boat and snowshoes to use as a way of getting out) as we worked hard in the sun today, cutting, moving, splitting and stacking wood...I realized I was more peaceful inside than I had been in years. My mother's two golden retrievers followed me for three days, carrying sticks and balls and begging for hugs. We spent the first night up at their remote mountain second home bbqing, smoking cigarettes and listening to the wildlife of owls, coyotes and moose. No cell phones, or tvs, or face book, and I loved it!
And so, last night, as we were sitting drinking coffee on the screened in porch watching the moon, my mother and Rick presented the idea of me moving up there. If only for a time.
"Six months!" Said my mother
"How about give it just one month" the ever wiser and level-headed Rick piped in.
And suddenly, a plan began to form. I want to go back to school. Its going to take money. Money I can not possibly save by continuing to pay rent, particularly on a place that I begin to despise as soon as it gets too cold to leave my balcony open. I am unnecessarily unhappy here where I am at right now. This became ever more evident the closer I got to home this afternoon. I didn't want to leave, but my cats and freelance work were dictating my movements. Were my car not in such a state of potential breakdown danger, I would probably have agreed to return the next weekend, and the next and the next, to continue on finishing the cabin.
Coming home just doesn't feel right now. This town, these people, the hurts that resurface as soon as I turn into town. I went to Vermont to dry out, to rejuvenate my inner being. And it worked for the time, but the moment I parked my car back in NY, my first thought was "Ok, unpack, shower, and head to the bar. What else are you gonna do?"
Where I am now, the space both physically and mentally, there are no panting golden retrievers. There is no clear moonlight gazing from a wicker couch. There seems to be no more promise of peace.
So, it planted a seed that definitely scares me to take hold of, but just feels so much better than what I've already got! Tomorrow I will meet with my dad, discuss options. Continue my discussions with Mom and Rick, and maybe, if all goes well, I will make the crazy decision to move to Vermont for a winter of snowshoeing and cross country skiing and head straightening!
Now, whose gonna come visit?