The spiritual
I'm listening to non-fiction now, which is atypical. It's about a woman who spends a year traveling after her divorce, looking for who knows what, spending time in Rome, India (at an ashram) and is now in Bali finding the meaning of life with a medicine man who 2 years prior told her to return to him but when she returned of course he didn't remember her at all. Anyway, this morning's quote was "Happiness is the consequence of personal effort." I thought about this for a long time, especially after an experience I had Wednesday night.

Wednesday night when I got home from dinner with Ken I realized that there was no sound around my house except for the birds--mainly white-throated sparrows, which have a long, drawn-out and beautiful song, one busy woodcock, and the spring peepers (tree frogs) not far from me in the bog. There are just the tiny leaves of the poplars and there was no wind so it was absolutely still. It was just dusk, so the birds were busy putting their world to bed for the night. I sat on my steps, listening and taking it all in. It was magnificent. The first thing I thought of was my brother, because this is just the sort of thing he did, and I wanted to tell him about it. That made me cry, but only briefly.

Then I started to walk, quietly and slowly, as if drawn, to the bog, where the sound of the peepers originated. As it got darker the sparrows stopped singing completely but the woodcock continued to call for his mate. It was one of the most serene, spiritual and intense times I've ever experienced in my life. I walked part way into the bog, the dogs trotting ahead of me. I didn't really want them there, but it only seems fair to share these things with them, they are so kind to me. I knew that if we got too close to the peepers' territory they would stop singing so I stopped long before we got to them. The bog was silent, totally silent. There is no sense of human habitation there. When I came out of the woods, the woodcock was still desperately--or maybe he was enjoying himself, who am I to judge--flying high into the sky, flapping his wings furiously, then plummeting back to the ground. As we approached him, he moved farther into the field, away from us. We all want our space, our private part of the world for at least a short time.

I don't believe in god, or a higher power. I would love to, it would make my life easier. I have looked for a religion I could embrace--though not very hard, I admit. I am at peace with my spiritual life. This was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had, though. I loved it, every second of it. I was at peace, and I felt as if I belonged where I was, in the middle of it all. I felt as if I was there because of the generosity of the animals, the birds, the plants--they were sharing their world with me, but I belonged there, in that spot. I'm not talking about belonging on the planet, in the universe, communing with nature, or anything grandiose--I'm just saying that where I live, in that world surrounding my house is the place where I feel I truly belong for this time in my life. It's the best I've ever felt about where I live, about fitting in. How lucky am I? I feel really fortunate.