As I write this, I’m atop one of the small peaks in the Catskills. I needed to go back to nature to reclaim my connection to nature.
For the last couple of years, I have lived to work more than worked to live. I gave up the nomadic life I came to love to try planting roots again in a more rural environment. In many ways, I succeeded making some friends, experimenting and expanding our work with children and, generally, slowing down.
One of the reasons we moved here, though, was to maintain our love of the outdoors. For reasons I’m not sure of, we lost track of that intention and bit by bit returned to a life of work, rest, repeat (with a few long distance trips sprinkled in).
It’s not been bad and it has it’s rewards. It’s just been more like the suburban life I was born into and stayed in for over 50 years.
Today, though, I jumped out of bed, grabbed a cup of Joe, my cellphone and some water and answered the call that said, “Come back to the mountains, Scott! You need this.”
Once, my father said to me, “Therapy has ruined you.” It was a horrible dig, but I think what he may have meant was “Don’t get stuck living in your head.” That’s a challenge for me.
Today, though, I am here.
