As I was driving north into the Adirondacks, I knew that my Spotify connection was going to run out soon. Everything was going to cut out.  In fact, it was a bit startling when it finally did.  From singing along to “70’s Road Trip” songs to complete silence; that’s when the thought landed on my brain: welcome to the unplugged.

Unplugged, indeed.  It made me smile.  This has been a long time coming.  I’ve needed this.  My life from college until now has felt like a wonderous merry go round spinning fast and I didn’t want to hop off.  Now things are starting to slow and settle and that in itself is unsettling.  What I know, though, is that it’s time to step off.  Smell the roses, as it were.

When I was a child and times were difficult, I learned that going outside and lying on the ground or in the snow helped to fix a lot of things.  Not everything, but I always felt better.  Instead of plugging into technology or fast paced living I, instead, was plugging into the universe.  Downloading, to carry the analogy a bit further, peace and calm and assurance…assurance that all would be right.  Whether good or bad, it would be right.  Of course, I didn’t realize this at the time, but I realize now that I want and need this reconnect.  I had moments for sure over the years when hiking or walking the dogs, but I almost always hiked with a companion (usually my husband) which was wonderful, but didn’t give much time for contemplation and reflection.

So here I was, in the east visiting my daughter at college, but giving her a four-hour window to get homework done after entertaining me all weekend.  I had passed this way before on my drives from school to family in Vermont, and often thought I’d like to come and “sit a spell” at the side of one of the lakes, never really believing I would actually have an opportunity to do it.  I had two lakeside hours to myself…well, in a public park with people coming and going, but two hours to absorb my surrounds.  Two hours with geese coming and going, with kayakers paddling by, with sunshine dancing on the water creating the illusion of a field full of fireflies.  Along the shore the sun broke through the canopies and landed on the dappled fern floor.  Leaves were changing, leaves were falling.  Butterflies were getting their last from the dandelions, and I wondered why they weren’t interested in the red clover.  That would have been my choice.  Two different dragonflies came by and checked me out for a couple of minutes.  There was a couple that decided to lie down on the dock which, looked kind of like a finger reaching into the lake.  He said “should we go for a walk?”  She said “five more minutes”.  It was that kind of day.  Peaceful.  Sunday. Everyone in the park was unplugging from life and plugging into the strength of the universe.  Recharging batteries.

I love where I live, but I love going home to the northeast, too.  The embrace of the northern woods is intimate.  It’s familiar.  It’s close and it’s upon you.  In the west, the vast open expanses, the stands of trees are less encircling and yet they are grounding too.  You feel you have room to breathe.  And that’s important.

About four years ago while my husband was still alive, I created a blog page that I entitled Journaling Out Loud.  I never felt I had the time to go back looking for my voice.  I’m not sure it was the right time anyway, but I definitely knew I wanted to write and to share my photos.  I actually don’t even know if I still own that page…for a while it was automatically renewing.  I think it’s time to go looking for it though.  As a friend and I recently discussed, I’m feeling without anchor at the moment.  Maybe this is the way to start finding it again.  Perhaps it’s time for all of us to spend more time unplugged.