A wilderness retreat in Colorado was my husband’s gift to me for my sixtieth birthday. It was the perfect token to help me mark the passage from my youth, both to relish the good and to process the old painful histories, to my elder hood with its wisdom and acceptance of life as it is and as it has unfolded.
There were ten of us at the retreat called Diamond in the Rough. It was in the part of the Rockies that didn’t burn this summer, but was hot and dry at 7,500 feet. It was an ethereal setting filled with Ponderosa Pine whose bark smells like butterscotch, Aspen trees that resemble white birch, large pink granite rocks with green and yellow moss, mica in the rocks and dirt that sparkled like tiny stars on the ground, and broad vistas that framed the dramatic white, puffy-clouded sky.
We entered a semi-dream state for the week, stepping out of our lives and into the magic of the wilderness. I had visits from Hummingbirds, Nighthawks, Grouse, a snake, a gazillion butterflies and a couple of bats. Others saw bear and elk. We paid attention to the signs and messages brought by the medicine of the animals and the beautiful rocks, and kept a heightened awareness of what the earth had to teach us.
One afternoon as I sat grieving the painful pieces of my past, a bobcat slipped through the lower woods, reminding me not to get too myopic—there is a whole world going on around me I need and want to be conscious of, even as I do my inner work. Bobcats symbolize silence, solitude and secrets.
A couple of bats woke me flying around my head as I slept halfway out of my tent one night to catch the starry night sky. Bats symbolize death of the old ways of life and personal identity and rebirth into the new. How perfect!
The week culminated in a 24-hour solo in the woods at a spot of our choosing and I chose to be by a pink granite rock that spoke to me of beauty, solidity and peace. But the thought of being approached in the night by a wild animal, especially a bear, awakened all my fears and I was not looking forward to spending the night sans tent in the woods alone.
One of the members of the retreat, a woman from Maine who had experience in the outdoors told me “the preference of the wild is to avoid the domestic.” She also said that if I felt any threat to stand tall and say, “I am not your prey”. Wow, that did it for me! I was ready to go solo. I also see where this line might come in handy in my everyday life… My plan had been to stay awake all night so I wouldn’t be startled by anyone or anything, but I ended up falling asleep and having the best sleep of the week.
My “Sacrifice” was to shed the unconscious belief that I am not enough, which shows up in various guises—not good enough, haven’t done enough, don’t know enough, not talented enough, fill in the blank. My “Intention” going forward is to trust my voice, own my gifts and celebrate my beauty. I will hold that intention each day as I walk strong into this next chapter of my life.
Wilderness Wind
Wilderness wind blows cold tonight, with a chill that’s so hard to shake
Pushing snow up the hill, Bending trees with its will
Leaving nothing untouched in its wake
Wilderness wind takes hold tonight, forcing all to agree and obey
No escaping its grasp, Pushing all in its path
Getting swept right along the way
Wilderness wind, blowing,
Carry my soul cross the sky
Wilderness wind, show me
Courage without compromise
Wilderness wind blows cold tonight, with a chill that’s so hard to shake
There’s no shelter to hide, No changing its mind
Leaving no one untouched in its wake
©2006 Lyrics by Diane Ingram/Music by Chris Farrell
So great to read your newsletters! Sounds like a perfect 60th – have you read “A life of being, having and doing enough” – think you will enjoy it!
All the best Diane-
Thank you, Lucille. I haven’t read that book–will check it out. Take care.