Jeanne, your cabin-visit defines a measuring point in your life’s continuing journey. Overcoming heartbreak. Finding your life’s passion(s) . Expanding realms of consciousness. The cabin is and was always going to be static. It facilitated healing for a broken heart. That’s enough.
It serves another’s purpose now. It isn’t the same place that your dear heart occupied long ago. It was never meant to be. But the healing powers, found there, powers that became you…yes! , you’ll carry those ,heart and soul, always.
Mark, this touches my heart. Thank you so much! Very cool that you mentioned expanding realms of consciousness -- yes! I hope you're doing well and that Kansas isn't too hot right now. (Is it?)
Touching but don’t know exactly why. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Life is such a mix of things. It was a good thing you did. Caution became generosity for you both.
This reminds me of the old adage about not being able to dip your toes in the same river twice. I am glad you stopped, glad you waited and talked to the woman at the door and made that human connection, and glad you had that view of the neighboring farm to take with you. Also, I'm glad that the cabin sheltered you when you needed it! Blessings to you, and may the novel go well!
Thank you for all of that, Susan! I'm glad too. I'm glad for all the things that shelter all of us when we need them. I know some of what has sheltered you. Blessings beaming back to you!
Fascinating story. It felt like a fairy tale — a woman and her two daughters in a cabin in the woods. I also felt ripples of Annie Dillard’s place in “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” Happy writing! A novel is a big project!
Julie, I loove that this evoked Pilgrim at Tinker Creek for you! In another version of this essay (or maybe it was in my memoir, I forget), I mentioned that while I was sitting on the front porch smoking weed, I was also reading books about women living solo ... like Pilgrim! It's my No. 1 favorite nature book. Sounds like you love it, too?
Adore it! That totally fits that you were reading it there. When I quit my job and went solo, I made business cards with a tree line drawing and this quote from Pilgrim: “Trees bespeak a generosity of spirit.” At the time, it was the most “me” I’d ever dared to be. 💚
Jeanne, your words grabbed me and carried me along, my heart in my mouth when you actually went to the door despite the barking dogs and had the courage to stand there when the door opened. You are incredibly brave. And what a fascinating post this is. So much to ponder after reading it. And bravo for the progress on your book.
I know how difficult it is to write a book, I have started and half finished two so far, set them aside, and now am on my third! Some bits from the first two are finding their way into the third. That's the beauty of being a writer, nothing is ever wasted. As long as you are engaged in the process. you are on the path that is meant for you.
Is your book a memoir? I know you wrote one already.
My first was a novel that petered out. Second an unfinished memoir about going through heart disease and bypass surgery with my husband, and the current one is about life since I retired,, got a puppy for the first time in my life (being a cat person until then) and all that has happened in my life in the last 13 years. Highs. Lows. Growth. Loss. Grief. Mystery. Faith. All wrapped around caring for an incredible dog and lately a disabled husband. Writing is therapy, isn't it? For most of us who call ourselves writers.
I know your book will be riveting. Best wishes with it.
All of that is so kind, Leslie -- thank you bunches! I wish you forward motion and energy with your book. That third one does sound like it could enfold things from your first two unfinished works. Maybe it was all just waiting to be brought together in No. 3! There's definitely a strand of caregiving/caring in there. And YES, writing is therapy for sure. At least for me and it sounds like for you too. Onward with our projects! (P.S. I don't know if it was courage that had me standing at that cabin door. More like foolhardiness. I have a long history of risk-taking. Guess it's still in me. ha! A good friend reminded me that that encounter could've gone very differently. It must say something that that idea never occurred to me. Jeez...)
It’s amazing how sometimes the universe brings us back to places that were once important to us, only to find them filled with new stories and lives. Your story is truly inspiring
Thank you so much, Aaliya! I suspect we all have a story something like this, right? The universe in its vast wisdom always helping us to circle back around, and learn new things.
I think you’re right. While our stories are different, most of us seem to find ourselves circling back to the same lessons in different forms. Life has a remarkable way of bringing us back to what still needs our attention, not to punish us, but to help us grow.
I'm so glad you got to see the adjoining farm with relatively little changed - while visiting the cabin run down as were the adjoining vibes. It's a bit ironic that your article about "going back" runs parallel to the post I published yesterday about taking my wife's ashes to an all but abandoned cemetery in Montana where we'd had our first date fifty years ago. I was back in that exact location, at the same tombstone, and yet my heart never connected with the memories - maybe a defense mechanism. The river keeps flowing.
Oh, Mark, that post of yours sounds beautiful. I'll have to go check it out. I'm glad you took Emily back to the site of your first date ... but so interesting about your heart's reaction to it. I look forward to reading it. And YES, the river keeps flowing. That's a lovely way to put it. I hope you're doing well and thank you for being here.
Oooh! I want to hear more about that. Have you posted anything about your book? I will look. And .. I just read "A Handful of Ashes," savoring every word and image, and reposted it. So lovely!
Thanks for checking it out, Jeanne, for the kind words and sharing. I had the book - Morphing into a Better World - published on Amazon and Kindle around the first of the year and made a few plugs on Substack. With all the competition especially from AI written books, the marketing part is much more challenging than the writing. I see that your upcoming novel is not your first rodeo.
I too, have a place like that in my life. I'm glad you went back, the reality of the present can never match our memories of a specific time and place in our lives.
So you know the feeling, Jo, right? And yeah, I wouldn't have wanted to go inside, either. I'm glad the woman didn't invite me in. I would have declined. I think we all want to remember "home" as it looked when we were there.
Those places that form the concept of home in our hearts are filled emotions. This story was but one example of their importance.
Beautifully said, Sue, and thank you!
Jeanne, your cabin-visit defines a measuring point in your life’s continuing journey. Overcoming heartbreak. Finding your life’s passion(s) . Expanding realms of consciousness. The cabin is and was always going to be static. It facilitated healing for a broken heart. That’s enough.
It serves another’s purpose now. It isn’t the same place that your dear heart occupied long ago. It was never meant to be. But the healing powers, found there, powers that became you…yes! , you’ll carry those ,heart and soul, always.
🙏
Mark, this touches my heart. Thank you so much! Very cool that you mentioned expanding realms of consciousness -- yes! I hope you're doing well and that Kansas isn't too hot right now. (Is it?)
Touching but don’t know exactly why. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Life is such a mix of things. It was a good thing you did. Caution became generosity for you both.
Well said, Irwin! And thank you.
Thanks for sharing this essay, jeanne! revisiting an old home is such a complicated experience, which you capture so well in this short piece.
Thanks so much, Amie! "Complicated" is the word; you nailed it!
This reminds me of the old adage about not being able to dip your toes in the same river twice. I am glad you stopped, glad you waited and talked to the woman at the door and made that human connection, and glad you had that view of the neighboring farm to take with you. Also, I'm glad that the cabin sheltered you when you needed it! Blessings to you, and may the novel go well!
Thank you for all of that, Susan! I'm glad too. I'm glad for all the things that shelter all of us when we need them. I know some of what has sheltered you. Blessings beaming back to you!
I love this piece. I can’t believe you actually knocked on the door.
I did. And you woulda, too. You know it!
I'm still thinking, Can you go offer to buy that cabin? We can clean it up...
Fascinating story. It felt like a fairy tale — a woman and her two daughters in a cabin in the woods. I also felt ripples of Annie Dillard’s place in “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” Happy writing! A novel is a big project!
Julie, I loove that this evoked Pilgrim at Tinker Creek for you! In another version of this essay (or maybe it was in my memoir, I forget), I mentioned that while I was sitting on the front porch smoking weed, I was also reading books about women living solo ... like Pilgrim! It's my No. 1 favorite nature book. Sounds like you love it, too?
Adore it! That totally fits that you were reading it there. When I quit my job and went solo, I made business cards with a tree line drawing and this quote from Pilgrim: “Trees bespeak a generosity of spirit.” At the time, it was the most “me” I’d ever dared to be. 💚
Oh, that's perfect for you Julie! And what a great quote!
Jeanne, your words grabbed me and carried me along, my heart in my mouth when you actually went to the door despite the barking dogs and had the courage to stand there when the door opened. You are incredibly brave. And what a fascinating post this is. So much to ponder after reading it. And bravo for the progress on your book.
I know how difficult it is to write a book, I have started and half finished two so far, set them aside, and now am on my third! Some bits from the first two are finding their way into the third. That's the beauty of being a writer, nothing is ever wasted. As long as you are engaged in the process. you are on the path that is meant for you.
Is your book a memoir? I know you wrote one already.
My first was a novel that petered out. Second an unfinished memoir about going through heart disease and bypass surgery with my husband, and the current one is about life since I retired,, got a puppy for the first time in my life (being a cat person until then) and all that has happened in my life in the last 13 years. Highs. Lows. Growth. Loss. Grief. Mystery. Faith. All wrapped around caring for an incredible dog and lately a disabled husband. Writing is therapy, isn't it? For most of us who call ourselves writers.
I know your book will be riveting. Best wishes with it.
All of that is so kind, Leslie -- thank you bunches! I wish you forward motion and energy with your book. That third one does sound like it could enfold things from your first two unfinished works. Maybe it was all just waiting to be brought together in No. 3! There's definitely a strand of caregiving/caring in there. And YES, writing is therapy for sure. At least for me and it sounds like for you too. Onward with our projects! (P.S. I don't know if it was courage that had me standing at that cabin door. More like foolhardiness. I have a long history of risk-taking. Guess it's still in me. ha! A good friend reminded me that that encounter could've gone very differently. It must say something that that idea never occurred to me. Jeez...)
Jeanne, what a magnificent love letter.🌱🌿💚
Katharine! Thank you so much, my friend. I hope you are doing well. This cabin probably isn't all that far from you. 😊
It’s amazing how sometimes the universe brings us back to places that were once important to us, only to find them filled with new stories and lives. Your story is truly inspiring
Thank you so much, Aaliya! I suspect we all have a story something like this, right? The universe in its vast wisdom always helping us to circle back around, and learn new things.
I think you’re right. While our stories are different, most of us seem to find ourselves circling back to the same lessons in different forms. Life has a remarkable way of bringing us back to what still needs our attention, not to punish us, but to help us grow.
Beautifully said!
Love this, Jeanne!
Thanks, Ron! I know you love your cabin too -- and it's a beaut.
I'm so glad you got to see the adjoining farm with relatively little changed - while visiting the cabin run down as were the adjoining vibes. It's a bit ironic that your article about "going back" runs parallel to the post I published yesterday about taking my wife's ashes to an all but abandoned cemetery in Montana where we'd had our first date fifty years ago. I was back in that exact location, at the same tombstone, and yet my heart never connected with the memories - maybe a defense mechanism. The river keeps flowing.
Oh, Mark, that post of yours sounds beautiful. I'll have to go check it out. I'm glad you took Emily back to the site of your first date ... but so interesting about your heart's reaction to it. I look forward to reading it. And YES, the river keeps flowing. That's a lovely way to put it. I hope you're doing well and thank you for being here.
It's always a pleasure and I should drop by more often, but I've been immersed in and challenged by the marketing phase of my book publication.
Oooh! I want to hear more about that. Have you posted anything about your book? I will look. And .. I just read "A Handful of Ashes," savoring every word and image, and reposted it. So lovely!
Thanks for checking it out, Jeanne, for the kind words and sharing. I had the book - Morphing into a Better World - published on Amazon and Kindle around the first of the year and made a few plugs on Substack. With all the competition especially from AI written books, the marketing part is much more challenging than the writing. I see that your upcoming novel is not your first rodeo.
A beautiful encounter
Thank you, Paul!
I too, have a place like that in my life. I'm glad you went back, the reality of the present can never match our memories of a specific time and place in our lives.
So true, Robert. And that's a perfect description of the bittersweetness of it all.
Thanks for sharing your story. I visited a home from my childhood, but I couldn't go inside.
So you know the feeling, Jo, right? And yeah, I wouldn't have wanted to go inside, either. I'm glad the woman didn't invite me in. I would have declined. I think we all want to remember "home" as it looked when we were there.
That’s a great essay.
Thank you, Jeremy ... and welcome. Glad you're here!