Almost there. We live in a small valley in the Smoky Mountains.
“The mountains are calling and I must go…” –John Muir
“Are we there yet?” Fred smiled indulgently at me from the driver’s seat of the car. I knew I sounded like a grumpy, impatient child. But it was late afternoon, I was hungry, stiff, and achy. And we were two hours away from our family cabin in Western North Carolina.
The timing for this trip was not good. With the October release of my new book looming, I had an intimidating to-do list that depended entirely on the internet. Our service at the cabin is so slow and unreliable that I’d lose hours of valuable work time. Fred’s work also requires a trustworthy internet connection, now more than ever since the coronavirus has taken him away from the office. My biggest worry was that our newly expanded and remodeled kitchen awaited, and there were just two us to put it all back together in eleven days.
“Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of that which you truly love.” ― Rumi
Cutting hydrangeas while they’re still damp with dew to celebrate the new kitchen.
Our children’s families wanted to help us. They love this place too. But the risk of exposing someone to the coronavirus was just too high for eleven people in the same house. We knew it was crazy to try this all by ourselves. But I’ve spent every summer there for twenty years and had been longing for it since May. Our little valley is a place of exquisite natural beauty, a nest surrounded by embracing mountains, a sanctuary that fills me with awe and wonder every summer. It has a profound soul-healing effect on me. Despite the time constraints and massive work load awaiting us at home, the pull was too strong. I simply had to go.
After a grueling nine and-a-half hours through two monsoons and a heavy metal buffalo stampede around Atlanta, Fred, Izzy, our granddog, and I finally arrived. All was forgotten when I stepped out of the car and inhaled a lungful of cool mountain air. My heart sang with the familiar melody of the small waterfall and bold creek that run alongside the house.
While Izzy ran off to lap up some pure flowing water and sniff the delectable scents of the Artemisian wilderness, we entered our decidedly Apollonian house. We were met by several cans of paint clustered on a tarp on the floor. Art leaned against walls that needed a second coat of paint. Rugs and pads were rolled up and stowed away. Tools and assorted hardware left by various workmen who still had jobs to finish littered the counters. Bags and boxes containing 36 years of kitchen contents were stuffed into all of one room and half of another.
If a heart can sink, mine did. I felt like Psyche facing Aphrodite’s impossible task of sorting a gigantic heap of poppy, corn, and barley seeds into separate piles before morning to earn the love of her beloved, Eros. This would take up most of our vacation. Where was Psyche’s helpful army of ants when we needed it? Tired, hungry, discouraged, overwhelmed, Fred and I just stood there looking around in dismay.
Fortunately, Izzy took us on long, stress releasing walks away from the mess and into the beauty.
And then our army arrived. When the doors of the black SUV that pulled into our driveway opened, out came our daughter and granddaughter, both wearing face masks. They had left Orlando shortly after we did to surprise us with three days of help. It felt like a miracle. Perhaps it was. With Julie’s extraordinary design and organizational skills — not to mention her home-made chocolate chip cookies — and Sophia’s cheerful and generous assistance, in two and-a-half days we whipped that kitchen into shape while wearing face masks whenever we got within six feet of each other.
Thank you Aphrodite, Goddess of love. We couldn’t have done it without your benevolent magic.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
― Rumi
Tropical storm Isaias was expected to visit Central Florida the day we left. But, willing to risk love’s pull once more, we went anyway, expecting to encounter a real monsoon. It was blue skies all the way.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
― Rumi
Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. E-book versions are also at Kobo, Barnes And Noble and Smashwords. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc. Watch for her new book, The Soul’s Twins, to be launched by Schiffer Publishing this October. For more information, subscribe to her newsletter at www.jeanbenedictraffa.com. This month she’s offering a giveaway for anyone who pre-orders The Soul’s Twins.
Thank you, Shannon. I love Rumi too. As you no doubt know, his hunger for spiritual love and the suffering he went through to find it transformed him into a mystic and brilliant poet. Whenever I’m looking for inspiration for writing about love, nature, or Spirit, I can always find it in his work. Much love to you, Jeanie
Thanks Jeanie so much! Your photos are so lovely. I remember times of moving, and the packing and unpacking thereafter and we would not have been able to do it without the unfailing help of our two sons. What a wonderful surprise to have your daughter and granddaughter ‘swing’ by! A fitting drive there and the one back! Well arrived back and I hope all is well. Love, Susan
Thanks, Susan. Packing everything up in December was an equally overwhelming job. Fortunately, our son and daughter-in-law were there for us then. They were especially good at helping us discern the difference between the items worth keeping and the “weeds” that had to go. Fred and I both grew up under the influence of that old-fashioned “Waste not, want not” mentality and find it hard to let go of things we never use but conceivably still could. But with our son’s incisive discernment and encouragement, we gave away or discarded several garbage bags of clutter.
When we put the kitchen back together I never missed a single one of those things. I can’t even remember what they were. What I do remember is the relief I felt to see it all go out the door last winter. Help from a loving family in times like this is invaluable. Love, Jeanie
All the feminine Olympians were there to help you, including those ants–and your daughter and granddaughter. How wonderful to get help when you need it. I’ve called on the ants so many times and will do so again when winter comes and I tackle the sorting projects again. I’m glad you were nurtured by the mountain air. I’m glad I can stay right where I am, even though winters are challenging. For now I hang out with Psyche/Soul/Butterfly. I’m tending ~100 caterpillars and chrysalises on my back porch. I released 16 earlier in the season, but this is the big population explosion time. These will lay the eggs of the Monarchs that migrate to Mexico, and this is my 4th year doing this. Every year the project grows since I’m doing what I set out to do and encouraging more Monarchs to use the milkweed and flower resources on this land. Four generations later, the descendants return to the same land and the increase in population s noticeable. My mother’s voice within says, “Don’t you have something better to do with your time?” The inner voice of Psyche says, “There’s nothing more important right now than taking part in this miracle.” And it sounds like the most important thing for you was to head for the mountains and inhale that air. Next time you go, the ants will have already done their work.
I love it that we think with and use the same mythopoeic language in reference to our everyday lives. It’s so self-explanatory and rich with meaning. As to your mother’s opinion, my soul’s response is the same as yours: that taking part in the miracle is always the most important thing. So many people find that difficult to understand trust! My hope is that our blog posts can make a tiny contribution to collective awareness. I know we’ll both continue to write for as long as we can. May we live to see some results from our efforts!
Those of us raised as Christians know this holiday is about a lot more than rushing about, partying and shopping, and many of us enjoy warm memories and nostalgic feelings this time of year. But why are the moments of love, joy and peace so difficult to find during the holiday season? Where do the feelings of exhaustion, anxiety, disappointment and depression come from? Why do we keep missing the point of Christmas? How can we recapture it?
In European and Chinese thought, the feminine principle is associated with passivity and the masculine with action. In Hinduism, however, the feminine is associated with
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
When the soul lies down in that grass
6 Responses
Thanks for your post! I especially loved the Rumi quotes you included. I love Rumi!!!
Thank you, Shannon. I love Rumi too. As you no doubt know, his hunger for spiritual love and the suffering he went through to find it transformed him into a mystic and brilliant poet. Whenever I’m looking for inspiration for writing about love, nature, or Spirit, I can always find it in his work. Much love to you, Jeanie
Thanks Jeanie so much! Your photos are so lovely. I remember times of moving, and the packing and unpacking thereafter and we would not have been able to do it without the unfailing help of our two sons. What a wonderful surprise to have your daughter and granddaughter ‘swing’ by! A fitting drive there and the one back! Well arrived back and I hope all is well. Love, Susan
Thanks, Susan. Packing everything up in December was an equally overwhelming job. Fortunately, our son and daughter-in-law were there for us then. They were especially good at helping us discern the difference between the items worth keeping and the “weeds” that had to go. Fred and I both grew up under the influence of that old-fashioned “Waste not, want not” mentality and find it hard to let go of things we never use but conceivably still could. But with our son’s incisive discernment and encouragement, we gave away or discarded several garbage bags of clutter.
When we put the kitchen back together I never missed a single one of those things. I can’t even remember what they were. What I do remember is the relief I felt to see it all go out the door last winter. Help from a loving family in times like this is invaluable. Love, Jeanie
All the feminine Olympians were there to help you, including those ants–and your daughter and granddaughter. How wonderful to get help when you need it. I’ve called on the ants so many times and will do so again when winter comes and I tackle the sorting projects again. I’m glad you were nurtured by the mountain air. I’m glad I can stay right where I am, even though winters are challenging. For now I hang out with Psyche/Soul/Butterfly. I’m tending ~100 caterpillars and chrysalises on my back porch. I released 16 earlier in the season, but this is the big population explosion time. These will lay the eggs of the Monarchs that migrate to Mexico, and this is my 4th year doing this. Every year the project grows since I’m doing what I set out to do and encouraging more Monarchs to use the milkweed and flower resources on this land. Four generations later, the descendants return to the same land and the increase in population s noticeable. My mother’s voice within says, “Don’t you have something better to do with your time?” The inner voice of Psyche says, “There’s nothing more important right now than taking part in this miracle.” And it sounds like the most important thing for you was to head for the mountains and inhale that air. Next time you go, the ants will have already done their work.
I love it that we think with and use the same mythopoeic language in reference to our everyday lives. It’s so self-explanatory and rich with meaning. As to your mother’s opinion, my soul’s response is the same as yours: that taking part in the miracle is always the most important thing. So many people find that difficult to understand trust! My hope is that our blog posts can make a tiny contribution to collective awareness. I know we’ll both continue to write for as long as we can. May we live to see some results from our efforts!