Tag Archive | Mists of Avalon

"All in the Cold Midwinter and at the Midnight Hour"

IMGP7064eFIRST_CABIN_ORKILA_OOr, what I did over my winter vacation.

I’ve actually been dying to blog about this but wanted to get some other things out of the way first. Like revamping it and updating it, for instance.

A few years ago, I wrote this post about my favorite winter memory, the second winter I spent living in the dispensary, a perfect cabin at Camp Orkila and how blissful that winter was, reveling in my connectedness to the natural world. I sometimes feel there aren’t words for how satisfying in a soul way living there was to me. And it wasn’t just the proximity to the ocean, the way I heard the owls and the creaking of cedar trees at night, or the thick woods I could walk through or even the months I lived there while having very little work, or all the great books I read, or the great company I had in my friend Tracy, or the walks by the coast.

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Switch is On

SwitchisonimagesAnother post from the past – July 2008

A few months ago, I wrote this post about how I felt sort of distanced from myself, and a time years ago when I felt more myself than ever, and how much I missed those times.

Well, I feel like I’m back.

First off, it’s like some switch totally flipped for me at some point, when I suddenly, acutely felt my intellectual frustration so strongly that I couldn’t ignore it or somehow make it okay.

I’m not sure how it started – with all these personal changes, it’s hard to pinpoint an exact start to things. They creep. Shift underneath the surface like tectonic plates until they’re erupting and lava is everywhere. And that’s a good thing, at least for me, because it’s like re-awakening, rekindling the inner fire. It’s passion. It’s aliveness. So, even though sometimes it makes present circumstances a little difficult or uncomfortable (because aliveness sometimes makes you aware of where your soul is dying), any day I’ll take it.

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On Not Writing (Or, Of Fear and Fond Memories)

IMGP6957eCAMP_ORKILA_ROAD_ORCASA few winters ago, I lived with my friend Tracy in a house at camp, and I’ve probably written about this winter before, and I’m sure I will write about it a million more times because I was so freakin’ happy that winter.

The house at camp where I lived (called The Dispensary because in the summer, the medical staff lived there) looked like a cabin, with wood walls and this real “old” feeling to it, like living there was actually a time warp, in a nice way, back to something ancient, even though we did have modern conveniences there. I also loved the lights, they had a soft glow that on the wood walls just somehow reminded me of something primal. It actually had a feel that brought to mind my grandmother’s house, probably the only other house I’ve loved as much as I love the Dispensary. Something about that house was just like IV nutrition for my soul.

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