Do less. Say less. Just be.
December 30th 2024
The elk’s ribcage expanded as I ran my fingers along his fur, trying to match my erratic breathing to his steady inhale and exhale.
He and I had stood together in that open valley many times on my journeys.
Feeling the wet grass between my toes as we faced the jagged mountains on the horizon.
Listening to the sounds of the forest to our left and right. It was all familiar to me.
But as the sun sank lower in the sky, a weight began falling in my stomach.
To my left, I spotted someone moving through the trees, nearly indistinguishable from the trunks they were weaving in and out of.
I drew a sharp breath as they stepped out of the forest and into the moonlight spilling across the valley.
Authors Photo
I could see then that the figure was a woman in a long black dress and she was swiftly making her way toward us.
I quickly focused my eyes on my own feet.
Hoping maybe she had mistaken us for someone else.
My muscles began to clench and burn, but beneath my hand, I felt my elk friend still breathing calmly and he invited me to look the approaching stranger in the eye.
I raised my head and saw that the woman standing only a few feet in front of us was me.
A much older me.
Her hair was long and striped with gray and pinned into a soft bun. Her eyes were warm and wrinkled from laughter.
She was delighted to see us.
She was gentle and strong and happy.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” she said, “I came to the woods because I am most myself here.
My love of solitude and has always seemed to unsettle people a bit, but never the trees.
They taught me to honor myself, to stop pulling up my roots and chasing after people who need to be needed.
They have reminded me of what the world struggles to understand — that solitude is not loneliness or isolation, but wholeness no longer begging or reaching for comfort.
This is what people feel when standing next to a tree and it’s what I want them to feel when standing next to me.”
I came back from that journey not with complete clarity or determination to honor my love of quiet and solitude, but I felt a weight had been lifted on scrutinizing that part of myself.
Authors Photo
This year so much has been evolving and moving faster and faster for all of us, and I know I’ve been way too hard on myself so many times rather than appreciating the trip and letting it be easy. I’ve heard over and over-
Do less. Say less. Just be.
My heart gets it but my mind struggles.
Help more by doing less.
Expand your capacity to love and listen by honoring yourself first and foremost.
Just be and see what struggles dissolve.
We spent a week camping out on our property in mid-November. We thought a week would be plenty but when it came time to pack up and head home, we realized we could have easily spent a month out there in the yurt, filthy, stinky, and happy as clams.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to recenter.
Do less. Say less.
To prioritize who I wanted to be as opposed to what I wanted to do.
I had started praying for snow weeks before our trip.
And even though I kept hearing phrases like, ‘unseasonably warm weather’ I just thought, “Ya know what, you never know.”
With every day we were out there, I loosened my grip on the endless list of plans I’d had and the pressure I continuously put on myself.
I was able to just be and enjoy where I was in each moment without thinking of what else I could or should be doing.
Authors Photo
Just…
Make coffee.
Hike.
Listen to the waterfall.
Visit friends and catch up over good food.
Drop dead trees.
Make soup.
Cut wood.
Build fires.
Watch the leaves change.
On the second to last day of our trip, I woke up around 7 and rolled over in our sleeping bag to check and see if just maybe I’d had enough cell service to get a few pictures from our kitty sitter.
Instead what I saw was a weather report that said-
Snow showers.
I whipped my head to my husband,
I gotta get outside right now!
As I stepped outside, snowflakes drifted across my nose and I turned to face the mountains behind us with tears rolling down my face.
Every time it looked like it was about to stop, a gust of wind would barrel through the valley and clouds of snow would sparkle along the beam of sunlight streaming over the ridge
Authors Photo
I was so busy finding pleasure in simple things for days, that the surprise snowflakes no longer seemed so miraculous. Why wouldn’t it snow? Why shouldn’t it?
I don’t know about you, but over and over and over I need to be reminded-
“Oh yeah, it starts with me. I have to create it and nurture it in myself first and then as soon as I stop reaching for it, I see it all around me.”
While writing this post, my Spirit Family chimed in with this-
Keep your wild and foolish dreams safe from hurry and doubt.
Let them burn bright in your darkest spaces until you see signs of life flickering through your ribcage and casting shapes of light onto the world around you
Heavy minds will wonder how you could be so delighted in a world so doomed.
They’ll lean closer, if only out of curiosity, to feel the heat dancing behind your bones and the warmth will remind them of the dreams they hold.
Of the same flickering fires they once tended inside themselves with foolish delight.
And if they are brave enough, they will find a space away from watchful eyes and turn over the coals in their own soul to find orange embers still glowing after all this time
And nature will go on creating her miracles unaware of anyone’s opinion.
Authors Photo
When so much is telling us that what we do matters more than who we are it’s revolutionary for us to shift our focus onto how we want to feel and who we want to be rather than what we want to accomplish or change in the world around us.
Here’s to starting revolutions in solitude.
I love you! Thank you for reading and listening!
