Mornings

I came to the woods…. Well, you know the Thoreau quote. It’s true, I felt I wasn’t living fully in the city. I love how much there is to do there, that there’s always something happening. I loved being near so many people dear to me. I loved the lifestyle- being able to get most everywhere I wanted without a car. Living in DC was great, for the most part. Yet I lost something there, or several somethings I suppose, but it started with my sense of Self. I couldn’t be in touch with who I am in those barred buildings and acres of asphalt. I could be happy, even fiercely joyous, but a part of me was always gone, always… off, somehow.

I found my Self here almost immediately. Somehow in the drum of the rain on a tin roof, in the calls of birds and buzz of mosquitoes and twang of little frogs I hear the rhythms that compose me. I wake up to the feel of unblemished sunlight on my face, smiling gratitude at the morning sun. Curse me for a morning person, but I love rising early to just be, watching the mist on the lake or a rabbit outside my room, doing my strengthening exercises (the excuse I give the research interns for rising so early) with the feel of a new day unfolding around me. No bus to catch, no security alarm to set, no sirens in the distance or shrieked profanities traveling past our windows. My mornings here are rich and deep and incredibly precious, as my every day begins with that healing solitude.

I am not, perhaps, any less broken than the person who walked onto the preserve three weeks ago. I am still wracked with fear for what will happen in September when my internship ends, still saddened by elements of my personal life, still as imperfect as ever I was. But it’s a great deal easier to release my insecurities and worries and regrets sitting on a moss covered boulder in an evergreen wood next to a burbling stream. It's a lot easier to breathe.

I did not come here looking for comfort or happiness or even (as I pretended) to further my career. I came to these woods to find again some sense of grace and purpose, to reclaim my courage and my confidence.

So here I am. Insect repellant shall be my perfume, warblers and waterfalls my soundtrack, the sky my television. This is my morning, my deep breath, perhaps even my pilgrimage.