Sunday Snapshot
It is Sunday morning as I write this - the same day I plan on posting this live on our website. The sun is gloriously shining, and the yellow buds of the Oregon Grape plants are in full & lovely view from where I sit & swing in the sky chair hanging on our small cabin’s covered porch, which was wonderfully gifted to me by my dear friend Kelly.
Also in view is what I consider to be the poetic arrangement of stacked wood flanked by jugs of potable water, topped with a cloth bag filled with dry pine needles we collected for the purpose of starting fires in the woodstove. A bag I purchased at a local store just down the road. A purchase that is likely a one-off, as never before and not since have I felt inclined to buy a cloth bag brand new (thrift stores are most often where I shop when I need something; also, free cloth bags are not hard to come by). My plain Jane style also typically steers me far away from items with logos, words and/or pictures on them, let alone business names, but in this case the fact that the name of the store is emblazoned on the side of the bag was what sealed the deal for me: Montana Moxie. Turns out, the way to sell a piece of merch to me with your business name on it is to have what I regard to be a really great name. Or another way of saying it: name your organizational enterprise something that also just happens to be a good encouragement for living. (Note: the one exceptions I make is stickers. Imma sucker for stickers, especially if they’re free. I don’t care what they say or have on em. Okay, well, I care a little.) In case it’s helpful: moxie means courageous spirit and determination; energy, pep; and in one place I read it means - and I really like this one - nerve & verve. (And verve means liveliness of imagination.)
Now that the weather is starting to warm, the gravel road that runs through our remote property is picking up its pace of travelers by. Folks who are en route to the national forest, for any number of outdoorsy reasons (in these parts, the primary ones would be: firewood collecting, target shooting, and hunting). Saturdays are especially active. During the week, construction sounds from our new neighbors building down the way are a near constant addition, to what would otherwise be a quiet woodland soundscape. Sundays, on the other hand, tend to be deliciously absent of human activity, save for our own.
I will take all of the poetic moments and simple satisfactions I can get to help fill my satchel of mindful, heartful, joyful living. I will also take all of the Sunday mornings in the quiet woods I am fortunate to have.
No matter the day of the week though, and no matter the happenings, time moves differently in the woods, at least that’s what I am finding. The pace and flow and relationship to the clock and the calendar are different, too. Out here, surrounded by the sangha of nature, there is more space and time to breathe and be. Living a fast-paced life not only doesn’t make sense out here, I’m not sure it’s even possible.
I continue to experience times when I really miss living in town. Missoula holds a special place in my heart and I love it dearly. I miss being in close proximity to my friends. But now that we’re coming up on 2-years of living here in the woods of Empty Mountain, it’s starting to really feel like home for me. I am missing Missoula less and less, as my affection for remote woods living grows more and more. I am especially appreciating the different way time goes and flows; the slower pace; the different priorities that take precedent; the more simplified life is becoming.
