It’s a very quiet morning here in Truchas, NM. I made eggs and toast and coffee and settled in to read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Over the last fifteen years in particular, I’ve been simplifying my life—not all at once, but little by little, cutting away what was superfluous to me. I know I wouldn’t have been able to move, comfortably, from my corporate life in Seattle directly to how I live now, here in the mountains of northern New Mexico. It was necessary to take it a step at a time, peeling the proverbial onion, as they say.
It was not a dream of mine to live such an isolated life out here in the country, away from even the “downtown” area of this tiny village I call home. I never imagined the depth of silence that is mine every single day; nor did I envision nights so dark that the stars form a thick blanket overhead. I didn’t realize that, not only COULD I dwell within this solitude but that, for me, it is an actual requirement—one it has taken me years to discover and understand. Stripping away the exterior noise of the usual urban life, much of the stimulus of my busy past, has allowed me the peace to explore my own interior; to develop a satisfying relationship to self.
Reading this passage this morning struck me, “It was strange to awake in utter silence… He turned his head and looked at his wristwatch on a stool next to the bed.. It was 7:08—he had never been much of a morning person, and it used to be hard for him to wake up without having at least two alarm clocks. Today he had woken all by himself, and he even felt rested… He was suddenly amused at his situation. Kalle Blomkvist—on a research trip in the back of beyond.” I understand this. I’ve never slept so deeply nor so well as I do here. I am amused all the time at my life “in the back of beyond.”
But it wasn’t until a young friend visited recently that I saw, really SAW, how remote my life is. He wanted to buy a bottle of wine on the way to a friend’s house for dinner, but there are no shops here: no grocery, no liquor store, no coffee house, no patisserie, no news-stand, gym, restaurant, no night life. And I saw, through his eyes, just how much I’ve trimmed away from the old life I used to live.
I realized the choices I’ve made, while perfection to me, are definitely not what most people would choose. When my mother came to visit and we walked out across the property in our PJ’s one morning, carrying mugs of coffee, me so proud of what I’d created for myself, she said, “Tell me again what it is you like about this place.”
I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that, as connected as we all are in our humanity, we are all also each individuals. This life I’ve spent a lifetime carving out for myself is not for everybody. Each and every one of us has to suss out what works for us, what makes us happy. And it’s not a slam-dunk figuring it out for most of us. It takes trial and error, and it usually takes risk.
I know some of you have always known what you want in your lives. I’ve forever envied that. But, for many of us, our truths are mysteries that require detective work, some process—often a lifetime—to uncover. Whoever you are, whatever it is, I wish it for you—the deep knowing of finally finding what resonates within you, what brings you peace, what makes your heart sing, even if it isn’t what others may recognize. To recognize yourself within yourself is the gift, I think. I wish that for all of us.
Love to you all,
Jeane
Sweet solitude… and the liberty to revel in the stars at night, the warmth of the morning sun, the company of animals and my own spirit. I remember a time when life was so full that the simple things passed unnoticed… no more.
It’s a very good way to live.
Turning the unlived life into the life we live is a challenge that is just too great for most people. The fact that you have done it and continue to do it every day–and so magnificently–shows us that it is possible to leave the trappings behind and ground ourselves in essential things, spiritual things, to live a harmonious life. As you say, it’s about finding what matters to us. If we are lucky enough to figure that out, as you have, and we have the courage to venture into and commit to engaging deeply in whatever environment we find it, we’re free.
Thank you, Kathy. You catch, precisely, my reason for writing this blog: to illustrate that living our truth is, indeed, possible (and to remind myself whenever necessary). So glad you’re part of the journey.
I really want to live in the countryside and in solitude. It’s hard not to!
I agree with you Chloe. For some of us it is hard to live anywhere else. Sending you the warmth of a New Mexico morning and a small bit of this country life.
My husband and I are moving to Penasco this coming summer….we want to simplify our lives. Reading your blogs everyday keep me connected with northern New Mexico and wishing tomorrow was summer……Thanks.
Ah, so we will be neighbors. Summer will be here before you know it. Imagine how many brunches and dinners you’ll have at the Sugar Nymphs Bistro!
I think the thing about solitude is that it is cleansing. Most of us who live where it is more densely populated are bombarded with every kind of pollution. I frequently feel the sensory pollution is the worst. Light pollution keeps us from seeing more than just a smattering of stars. All of the white noise that surrounds us prevents us from tuning in to the “real” world that is all around us. Even here in Lafayette, which is a ways from the major sources of city lights, I still see only a small percentage of the stars you can see in Truchas. Believe it or not, we even have traffic noise The scary thing is that we come to accept this condition as normal, natural and unavoidable. I suppose that in large part these are the real reasons I enjoy flyfishing and riding my bike. They can be social events but I find both to be enormously more freeing when it is just me by myself. I know there are people who would consider this kind of mindset to be anti-social. They think that this is some sort of self-imposed loneliness. It is not. One can just as easily feel totally and heartbreakingly alone when surrounded by others on all sides. The concept that we have to be constantly surrounded by and involved with other people is nonsense. I find it to be constrictive at best.
Solitude also frees the mind. Without all the extraneous “stuff” going on you can let down your buffers and protective walls and let your mind really work. The clearest thinking I have ever done has been when standing knee-deep in the Madison in Yellowstone. My body was busy casting and watching the fly and all that, but my mind was roaming effortlessly, connecting dots and realizing things that I was otherwise unable to be aware of. I guess you would call it meditation. Some people need to chant, others need incense, for some it is assuming a particular body position. I do just fine with the sound of wind and moving water, the smell of grass and trees and wild mint and the cry of an osprey or eagle who is sharing the river with me. Truly, the good things in life are free. You just have to figure out what your own Good Things are.
Exactly, precisely Rob. Clearly you have found what resonates with you. Just remember that for some, the noisy clamor of a bustling city street makes THEIR heart sing.
The older I get, the more I value peace and quiet. And I find that the more I think about things I thought I understood the less I actually do understand. I know that sounds a little silly, but it is true. There are so many facets to everything. One thing I do understand is that, in my case at least, simplicity is the key to staying sane.( sanity , of course, is a matter of perspective; but it works for me)
On another tack entirely: we have purchased a “fixer-upper” in Spanaway and will be being moving back north and home again in a while. It will be several months, probably, as there is a GREAT deal to do and it is a long distance project.
It doesn’t sound silly to me. Can’t remember who said it but I paraphrase SOMEONE’S thoughts here: “The more I think I know, the less I know.” And another: “Those who know everything know nothing. Those who know nothing know everything.”
Good luck with your fixer-upper. Sounds like peace and solitude will be put on the back burner for awhile.
Believe it or not, it is quite peaceful for the time being. I go up to the house and sort of camp out. No TV, no internet. I spend a part of the day tearing out this and drying out that and in the evening I have my cot, sleeping bag, and a good book. Without Linda and the dogs there is is really, really quiet. Linda can’t spend any time in the house yet . All the old cat hairy carpet has to be torn out first. For her it is a major asthma attack just waiting to happen. It is going to be a major project but a great deal of fun, all things considered. Once I have the place gutted we will have a blank canvas to work with which means the only real limit is our own vision of how we want things to end up.
Also as soon as we are up there I will treat you to some sunrises around Mt. Rainier ( we’re only about 45 mi. away – so close it feels like you can reach out and touch it.) and some Olympic Peninsula sunsets. Seems only fair. I drool over the shots you get there. Always have had a soft spot for sunsets.
Hmmm, so you are already there? I thought it was a long distance project you couldn’t begin until you moved. Anyway, it’s good you’re enjoying the process. I believe that’s what it’s all about.
No not there yet. I go up and work on the house for a couple of days, then come home for awhile and then go back for another couple of days. I’m a human YO-YO for a while. Part of the problem is waiting for contractors to be able get a few things done. We have some roof and gutter issues and the weather has not been particularly accommodating. In fact we have a series of pretty heavy storms moving through the NW right now.Wind gusts into the high 40s and higher in some places. “You know, feet up in front of the fire with a glass of wine weather”.
Ah, I see. And, yes, I’ve been hearing about the storms. Definite snuggle in weather.
While I know that you are prepared beyond belief for any and all possiblities, your planning is a big part of your success. You ask, you listen, you condense, you advise or make it fact. I just love that about you. I have had the wonderful opportunity to visit Jeane a few years ago. I think in a way I was checking out the people around her, as well as her digs. Well, we all see the digs and the people are amazing, but sleeping with six cats was an honor beyond belief. Meeting her village friends was also an honor. When I left I felt she was safe. And living on a mountain top, achieving her goals, elevating to her solitude. I love to live through your eyes, old friend. Ljoy
As I’ve said many times, your unwavering belief in me is a great comfort. Thank you. And not EVERYBODY would like sleeping with 6 cats. Bless you for that!