Something Useful, Even Beautiful

A Retreat for Clarifying Life's Purpose

March 14, 2024

Dear Reader,

Ruby and I made a 738 mile roadtrip to the Berkshire mountains in Western Massachusetts this past week! We clocked 1,500 miles round trip, driving through Canada with an overnight stop in Niagara-on-the-Lake, resting at the Wildflower Inn in Lake Geneva, New York on the way home. Long drives have become more difficult for us both, yet the distance has a way of clearing my mind and clarifying what life seems to be about for me. Ruby seemed to relax a bit eventually, settling in to the rhythms of the road.

Driving into Canada, Harbour House Hotel, the Canadian side, looking across Lake Ontario to the United States, vignettes from meandering down historic streets of Niagara-on-the-Lake, a two hundred year-old-plus cemetery.

I left Metro Detroit loaded up with enough water and healthy energy drinks to get me through the 13 hour (pee pee stops included) drive. Preparing for travel for the two of tends to get me wound up, so our first night at the Harbour House Hotel was anxious and restless, in spite of really lovely surroundings. Arriving finally at my friend June’s home and nestling in to the guest room so sweetly prepared for me was such a relief. But, my hands and body still trembled all night from an entirely rainy, wheel-gripping drive in.

In the days following, Ruby and I gradually unwound. June’s welcome always includes a bowl of dark chocolate almonds and a collection of snacks for grazing throughout the day. Her home is covered in her whimsically painted ceramic plates and hand-thrown pottery glazed in the most gorgeous blues, indigos and browns. She will likely be throwing her magical oil lamps forever, as she seems to have discovered the fountain of youth. Here she is in her studio, demonstrating the process for me.

June’s house in the Berkshires is nestled among hemlocks and red pines, white oaks and birches. A rocky river rushes by one side of her retreat, and a wooded hillside rises up from the other. Not just any hillside, though. A magical one. Giant boulders covered with the greenest mosses inhabit the slopes. Long rock walls border her property, and who knows how long ago they were erected. It must have been giants who lifted those rocks and boulders, stacking them into a winding row.

Ruby was in heaven there. Our bodies needed the exertion of a climb requiring deep breaths and a bit of a sweat. As we ascended the ridges, I felt the tension inside me unraveling and my mind clearing. In the medicine of this ethereal forest with its misty moisture, its splashing streams spilling around us, its health emanating from the early springs of mossy green, something always happens to me. I start feeling. First, in the sensory way — I start noticing sounds, smells, details.

And then, I start feeling myself becoming more tender.

It’s how I wish I could always feel.

My personal commitment to keeping myself mentally and physical well involves planned breaks and serious retreat-like rest for me, and I found that possible with my dear friend, June. She welcomed me with open arms, with freely offered affection and clear appreciation for my company. She wanted to hear me play my dulcimer and even gathered her friends around, beckoning me to serenade them. In the mornings, we grabbed a cuppa and read quietly together. She brought me excerpts to read from her husband, Walter Wink’s writing.

Best of all, she hiked with me and Ruby!

All that made me feel more tender.

June on her rock by the river, my guest room, Ruby in the woods, June hiking with me, the biggest tree in Wink Woods, me and the tree again, cute Ruby, Mossy rocks, Giant's rock wall.

It is so critical to take breaks from our routine labors. Breaks that allow us to let go, on a deep, spiritual level. If you’ve not experienced that, perhaps you can begin to envision it as a possibility. If you can’t envision it yet, you might begin by asking* for a glimpse of what that might be like for you.

Everyone needs a place where their heart gets a little taste of tenderness. A place where the company and the surroundings refresh and replenish their spirit.

In her Isolation Journals on Substack, my favorite new writer, Suleika Jaouad, writes about how, when “faced with a grim (cancer) prognosis, she realized she didn't want to wallow—she wanted to make something useful, even beautiful.” She certainly does that. Her writing and art inspire me continually.

Suleika’s clear understanding of the choice before her really struck me. In reading her words, I feel my own life’s purpose kindled.

May this missive from a particularly magical experience of Wonderworld be somehow useful to you, and bring you a taste of tenderness and beauty.

Thank you for being part of my Wonderworld!

Until next time,

with love,

from Linda and Ruby