Be-ing home

 

There is a saying that home is where you hang your hat, and this place, this forest, feels like home. Camping reminds me that anywhere can be my home if I believe it in my heart. I carefully set up the sleeping area, the food and the picnic table, the campfire. In less than two hours this spot in the forest has become home. My attitude shifts. Gone are most electronic devices and my connection to the world-wide web (none of mine have WiFi). My senses are heightened. “What will the weather be?” I asked.  I must look to the sky, sniff the air for moisture, check the wind direction. “Ah, cloudy, increase humidity, winds from the south and west. Yes, rain, and soon.” I make preparations: tarp up, rain shield on the tent, ponchos near by. Soon it begins to rain; lightly at first, then harder, drumming through the leaves to the forest floor below. As the rain falls, I switch from hiking mode to listening to the song of the wild. I accept what the day brings to me with joy in my soul, having faith that this is what I am being called to do, right here, right now. Just being in the moment, hanging my hat and calling it home.

Simple. Basic. Soul embracing…