The cabin we hiked to is several miles into the deep woods. I has no electricity, no lights or running water. My feet told me I have grown a bit older since I hiked in Merck several times a week when I had the cabin in Cambridge from which I wrote “Running To The Mountain.” This impulse is still in me, but so much has changed, in my life, in the world. I have a full and busy life and I don’t much care to run away from Maria or the farm or my life and work there.

Still, it was so wonderful to sit in the quiet. No computer, cell phone, no Ipad, but I had to bring my camera, had to record it. Tomorrow I hope to meditate for hours there, and think about where I want to go the rest of my life. Or if I want to go anywhere.

My very restless soul understands that crisis and mystery are just around the corner, always. But also love, peace, happiness. Create, create, create, is what the voice inside of me says every morning. Until you can’t create anymore.