Not an empty quiet—just enough stillness to let what’s real arrive. Where the body softens before the mind catches up. Where the nervous system exhales without being told to.
Life moves at its own pace here.
Morning light across the fields. Cold air waking the lungs gently. Long walks where conversation ebbs and flows, and silence feels companionable rather than awkward.
More listening.
Less pushing.
The holidays arrived, and with them, emotion moving just beneath the surface—especially for those who have spent years packing bags, driving long distances, navigating traffic, timing meals, managing expectations, holding it all together and calling it “tradition.”
This year, something softened.
Thanksgiving unfolded differently—not because it was planned, but because the body chose it.
The day began with a hike. Crisp air. Bare branches. A trail alive with texture and color when there was time to notice.
Walking.
Laughing.
Pausing.
Meditative without trying.
Later came a long afternoon nap.
Delicious rest.
No alarm.
No negotiation.
The body sank into the bed and was met there—held.
Cradled by layers of quilts and the quiet weight of wool blankets.
As if being hugged by the fluffiness of the bed itself.
Nourished.
Comforted.
Time slowed.
Then seemed to stop.
When waking came, it arrived gently.
A small movement in the body.
A tiny micro‑smile forming before thought.
Eyes blinking open slowly, as if relearning light.
A sense of being held by the present moment itself.
There was nowhere to go.
Nothing to do.
No one to be.
Evening followed with simple nourishment. Organic delicata squash roasting. Organic olive oil, dried organic sage, flaky sea salt. Shared at a long table.
Candles flickered.
The fireplace crackled.
No television.
Music instead.
Conversation wandering.
A guitar strumming.
Vinyl spinning.
Time stretching again.
Later, poems were written and passed from hand to hand, each one beginning somewhere and becoming something else along the way. By the end, each poem was shared—yet somehow whole.
What mattered most was not the food or the setting.
