Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Speak to Me
Then we were transferred to the Hudson Valley in upstate New York. On the drive up there, he said, "Well, you're going to finally live in the mountains!"
I believe everyone is drawn to someplace in particular, irrespective of familial ties or significant personal history. Folks might not even know what they're seeking until they stumble across 'their' place and everything shifts within them, telling them they are home. It would be nice if we could all live in the places that speak to our hearts, but that is seldom possible.
I know people who long for the ocean and beaches. Frankly, if I never visit a beach again, it will still be too soon for me. I've never wanted to go on a cruise. Though the ocean is a fearsome and beautiful place, it is not my place. I have friends who thrive in urban environments, reveling in the rush of the city. That's not my place either for the noise and hustle-bustle drown out the spirit of contemplation.
No. My heart yearns for the places of stone. A deep longing fills me when I see pictures like the one above or scenes from the lonely places like Cathedral Rock in Arizona or Shiprock in New Mexico. Perhaps that's why I climbed my local mountain, Schunemunk Mountain, New York, every weekend when I was in my forties. That was home. For my college graduation, the hunk gifted me with a painting of the mountain in all it's fall splendor, that hangs on the wall over our bed.
I wonder how it would be if everyone knew what their 'place' would be? Do you suppose people would be more content if they could visit the home of their heart every once in a while and just chill out while they relaxed and let it speak to them? Something to think about on this eve of the day we're supposed to give thanks.