NOVEMBER 2014

All my life I have been looking for a place to belong.  To relax into myself.  A home.  Roots.  Last fall, without any efforting – a sure sign of Grace at work again – I bought a home on the west mesa of the Rio Grande River.  I had all but given up on this happening for me.  After all, it’s traditional to buy a home when you’re young … not when you’re approaching 60.  But then, again, when has my life ever been traditional.

I admit I’d always thought of Albuquerque as a good rest stop on my way to wherever I was headed … not a place to build a nest.

Seriously, it wasn’t until I wrote The Cowboys of Greybull and Do As The Natives Do, that it all made perfect sense.  The earthy environment that has held my heart for 50 years, now holds my life.  I live in my very own wide open space with dirt, sage, brilliant sunsets, wild horses, and an authentic need for boots!

There is an ease to my daily life – a new experience for me.  Having a place to settle has allowed me to withdraw my intense need-to-keep-searching energy from the world.  Along with this shift, I feel rumbles of intense change deep in my interior.  It’s too soon to know yet how I will settle into life from here forward, but I am certainly looking forward to the adventure.

When I moved into my house the vegetation in the yard was dormant.  It’s been a thrill to watch my garden bloom.  I have roses, irises, purple sage, mint, morning glories, rosemary, sunflowers, hollyhocks, daisies, lavender, gladiolas, desert willows, trumpet vines, flowering plums … and lots more.  The hummingbirds are so satisfied they don’t even need feeders!

I enjoy early morning coffee on my patio, watching hot air balloons float by against the backdrop of Sandia Mountain.  Just across the road, in Placitas, wild horses roam the foothills.  Occasionally, I am fortunate enough to watch them thunder across open land, their manes floating in the breeze.

And Gabe loves his new playground.  We take long walks on the mesa where he chases bunnies to his heart’s content.  No, he hasn’t caught one yet!  I love watching him be the wild dog his Creator intended him to be.

 

Of course, these are simple, tangible pleasures of finding my ground.  There are deeper rewards that my soul delights in … gifts that I feel and can’t yet name; gifts that I trust are being delivered, and can’t yet feel.  I am reminded of a verse from Ecclesiastes:  “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.”

 

I’M NOT DONE YET building my nest, settling into my ground.  I wait with baited breath for the seasons to reveal the entire gift.