9-ish Who am I, really? And what do I really want out of life? And is Edward to be a part of that life? These are the questions I came here to ask. Last night, sitting before the fire, was the first time they coherently formed in my mind. Now that I know the questions, I can seek answers – or at least guidance. These are age-old questions that are not so easily answered in a week long camping trip.
I have longer than that. I can move around as the max stay allows until I find what I am looking for. The life I choose will be created for my highest good, not to please or satisfy anyone else. I do have responsibilities, and these can be accomplished on my days when I return home to bathe, wash my things, and see Mom.
I had a noble idea last night. How many others out there have desperately needed to do what I have done? What if I created a Spirit Camp? Give people the opportunity to get away, get quiet, search for what they are seeking? My next thought is like a tiny house bed and breakfast, offering a little comfort but still the quiet, rustic setting of the wilderness. We would observe quiet times, communal meals, plenty of space for solitude and personal reflection. Guided by me.
It could allow me to make a living and still give me time to myself, to do my own seeking, and maybe to write my books. I think the idea has merit, and the voices in my head are going crazy over it – how silly!, what a notion!, who are you to act as a guide?!, how will you fund it?!, etc.
I just want to do something original, to have a legacy of my own making, from my own ideas. And I want to do something worthwhile, something that makes a difference.
I won’t go too far down that rabbit hole yet. I will just allow the thought to meander through my mind and see what happens.
At first I was disappointed that I have a near neighbor, but I find it brings me a sense of comfort, knowing someone is near but not at all intrusive. I know I have longed for a mountain-top experience, but I have also come to understand that life must be lived in relationships.
I have been pseudo-keeping up with my gratitude exercises. I still forget to say Thank You for what I have to eat and drink, a gesture I never thought I would neglect after my work with the homeless. I think I packed my magic rock, but I found a good one readily last night here at the campsite. It seems fitting to use it instead, and perhaps to take it with me, or leave it behind to bless the next person.