Lucky for me—and my husband—we were able to end the year at a little “cabin” in North Carolina. Nestled among trees, on the side of a hill, and overlooking a noisy creek, this place in the woods is simple, but with a magical quality. We’ve been going there for decades now. At first, it was a place to visit with family and it just happened to be in the Smokies. As the years have gone by, my sense of the place has changed. Several years ago, I daydreamed about what it would be like to have one’s very own writing retreat. Duh!. The family “cabin” would be perfect. I spent a month there. I didn’t do much writing, but I loved listening to the creek. I guess it spoke to something deep inside me, because ever since then, I go back as often as I can and listen some more.
So, that’s where I spent the end of 2021 and the beginning of 2022. I slowed down. I read. I knit—at least 4 different works in progress—and took naps. It was chilly and rainy. Perfect whether for not being too ambitious.
Nothing momentous happened. We drove through Smoky Mountain National Park, visited relatives in Knoxville. I knit, I read, I ate and did a few Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement lessons. I took naps. I slowed down.
I’m back home now. Wondering if I’m ever going to speed up again. As my teacher Ingrid liked to say, “Maybe yes; maybe no.” And so far, I’m quite content with that. Actually, I suspect that being back home, answering emails and phone calls, will pretty quickly pull me into a faster pace. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the slowness of reentry into my routine, and entry into 2022.
Here’s my hope for you: that you’ve been able to clearly say farewell to the old year, and turn with hope, peace and gratitude toward the new year. May this new year bring you many good things, including grace, health and happiness.