Wabakimi, Goodbye For Now

It's time to finish the story.  It's still on my mind everyday.   There is something about being in the wilderness that agrees with me.   To be in a place where I have such a sense of belonging that it feels strange to leave.    That in my regular world I now feel a bit out of place. To have every one of your senses drink this in 24/7...to hear the water on your canoe, and on the shore, to hear the rain on the tent and the tarp, to hear the wind whispering and stirring the tops of the trees, to stare into the embers, to see the endless sky from East to West: sunrise, sunset, meteor showers, and innumerable stars at night.  To have no internet, no telephone, no answering machine, no vacuum, no microwave.  Life is simple.  Multitasking is unnecessary. You only have to think about today.  

The word that comes to mind is sanctuary.    Haven of rest, not for the body, but for the soul.   To be shielded from the daily bombardment for a while.  To be led beside quiet waters and made to lie down in thick green beds of moss.   It is calming.  Peace.  Yet, the work is a pattern I dive into eagerly. I know hard work. I like the physicality of hard work. I love the satisfaction of seeing that I can keep up with the rest of the team, along with a sense of accomplishment that I can hold my own.     

I am amazed to be the only people in this place, and I am also amazed at how quickly our presence impacts the areas we occupy.    How a game trail quickly becomes a beaten path when we make 3 and 4 carries with our gear.  It makes me want to walk softer.   It makes me glad that the park is inaccessible and that it will stay this pristine.   It's here for those who are willing to fight their way in.  

I loved seeing the ancient blazes.  Time has passed here at the same speed as elsewhere but at the same it stands still.   Progress hasn't affected this place much.    I hope it never does.   

It was really hard to go home.  To give up this simplicity. I worry that when I find my groove again it will feel more like a rut.   At the same time I recognize the choices I make to come here and the choices I make that keep me there.    I accept that it can only be temporary, and I have to embrace it as such.   God has work for me to do in my "real" world.  He guides me and I have an impact to make there.   I am His hands and feet, and hopefully I don't walk softly.  Live out loud everyday.

Maybe that's what I need to take away from this: the reaffirmation that I am where I'm supposed to be, refreshed by being fully immersed in the middle of nowhere.