Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to say goodbye to the city, to my fast-paced life with a schedule that’s filled every night, and move to a lonely cabin in the woods.
Sometimes I wonder, if I stopped following social media and a steady stream of breaking news, if I put myself in a nook in the woods, would I be able to read deeply?
If I cast aside my iPhone, would I stop being too busy to get back to people?
Would I finally be able to write?
Maybe I could write on a typewriter that matches my land line phone.
I would spend my days running on the mountain trails.
Maybe I’d even fulfill my childhood dream of owning a horse.
I’d spend my nights reading by firelight…
…and gazing at the stars on crystal clear nights, unpolluted by human civilization. I would feel small yet significant because I have a place in God’s universe.
I would be at peace. I would feel alive. I would become myself.
Would I miss dinners with friends at hitherto-untried restaurants with local farm fresh food?
Running, not alone, but together.
Writing that serves a particular function in the real world.
Finding God between skyscrapers and in the voices of the ever-changing cast of characters in my life.
Perhaps the question should be, how can I bring an oasis of stillness, solitude, and rootedness into my daily existence?
“At the still point, there the dance is…”