I grew up in Maine. Dead end dirt road, no neighbors, with parents who worked hard to have a huge garden, chickens, cows, and all that close-to-the-land country life stuff. Yes, my childhood was wild and beautiful. I had chores that taught me how to work hard, and I was surrounded by space. Any kid would be lucky to be so free! Yet, given my first chance, I ran. I moved to Minneapolis, with all its vibrant life, its huge music and art scene. I embraced the excitement of living in an apartment surrounded by other people to interact with! Just like that, 30 years went by. I got married, had kids, bought houses, did the whole artist thing.

Every year, without fail, we visited Vermont, where my parents had bought their dream house. Every year, the kids got to experience the beautiful peace of the woods, of eating freshly harvested food, of the quiet tranquility that is rural life. Hubby and I promised each other that “some day” we’d move back. “Some day” was far on the horizon. Meanwhile the city was getting more crowded, the crime rate was going up, and the rush hours were bigger. Life seemed to have less tranquility in it, and more anxiety. Like so many humans in this world, I got quite caught up in what we call The Rat Race, which is a grim nickname for a situation where people start running faster and harder, trying to “keep up”. I started to spend more time in the bit of forest down by the Mississippi. Woods bathing was something I stumbled upon naturally although other cultures were far ahead of me on that concept! I don’t think I had any idea how much healing was going to happen when I moved back to the country, but something inside me was pushing me back to New England.

As a family we did what most people stuck in the Rat Race do: we stayed because of good jobs, good school situations, a house that we loved. We thought those things were enough. Enter the time of Covid, which was a surreal time for anyone, especially in a crowded city: We were isolated even while surrounded by people, with no where to go. The world went online. Then, there came the George Floyd riots.

George Floyd was murdered a little over a mile from our house. In the space of a week, our neighborhood basically burned down and was destroyed. Our city was definitely not a place of peace and tranquility. We lost the Post Office, the bank, and many other important places. Uptown, Lake Street…….all was broken, boarded up, painted over. Shock ran through our lives. Black Hawk helicopters hovered over our house for weeks.

And that, my friends, is when we realized we needed to find a new path. As a family we looked at each other and agreed that we’d move as soon as we could get everything in order. It took two years. Two years of fixing, painting, re-carpeting, cleaning, purging, and saying goodbye.

So, we landed here, in Vermont, in my parents’ house, and we landed on our feet, running. The garden had to be planted immediately. Fields needed to be maintained. The horse needed care. And, we were literally an hour from anything. Grocery store? Hour drive round trip. Doctors? Farther. Living with just one car? Not possible. No buses, no trains. Bicycles? useless, really, on this mountain!! Inconvenience greeted us at every step. However, it was and is that very inconvenience that slowed me down, encouraged me to breath, and has begun to teach me how to appreciate the land. We ran from the roar of 8 lanes of highway to the sound of……the wind.

Here we are. Surrounded by woods and nature. We are forced to slow down. We have no close neighbors. We have experienced catastrophic flooding, insane mud seasons, and more. However, we walk through the forest daily, sometimes for hours. That woods bathing I mentioned has taken on a whole new level of intensity. We gaze at the views in awe, watching Nature carry on. I am fast learning how to forage from the land, and how to express my gratitude as I do so. I am finding beauty in the tiniest of details on any given day.

I believe this was the right time to make this shift. Our world is getting crazier, both politically and weather-wise. Now is the time to get back to the land, to observe nature, and most importantly, to learn how to take care of yourself. I know I am very privileged to be given this chance for renewal. That is why I am choosing to see the beauty and joy in every day, no matter what, if I can. The land is healing me. It is my hope that through this blog I can show you, dear reader, a little window through to another, more thoughtful way of life. It may not be possible for you to move to the country, but you too can cultivate a curiosity, a determination, and a commitment to making little changes in your daily life that bring joy and wonder. There is a shift that can be made, one that nurtures awareness and in turn brings peace and calm and a great deal of satisfaction.

Thank you for being here.

Westy