To date, the best part of working out of my home has been the realization that I can design my day however I choose. I love having the autonomy and independence to conduct my day as I see fit. I know what I need to do but can be productive when I choose to be or take a long walk to clear my head. This morning I decided to head out of the neighborhood on my morning walk. It was a hazy, humid morning but I started early enough to beat the heat of the day.
I ventured out of the neighborhood, down the hill to my favorite spot in the world! My friend, Linda, calls it my “pooh bear thinking spot”. All I know is that it’s a beautiful location and the place where I feel the most peaceful. The best part is that is only several miles from my home.
As I wound down the steep hill towards the North Fork of the Shenandoah River, I was overwhelmed with how fortunate I am to live here. I grew up in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley and feel so blessed to have found my way back home at this stage of mid-life. The contrast between some of the hectic, loud metropolitan areas where I formerly lived and this sweet, little town of 3,000 people is striking. Perhaps I am more appreciative of the area as a result of living in the big cities.
Deciding that I really need a serious workout today, I headed down the old, wooden stairs to the river below. I lingered on the swinging bridge and practiced my meditation. It requires great practice to really learn how to meditate but once one learns it is hard to live without it. In the distant haze, I noticed a fisherman making his way towards me. I lowered the volume to my meditation so as not to disturb him. My husband is an avid fly fisherman and I know that an important part of the sport is the solitude and commune with nature.
Naturally, I snapped some pictures of him as well as all of the beautiful area of my “pooh bear” spot. I watched as a squirrel performed impressive jumps from limb to limb. I totally lost track of time and really had no idea how long I was enjoying my spot. As I turned around, I decided to run up the stairs back to the gravel road to increase my heart rate and maximize my exercise. I ran up and down the stairs a half dozen times until it dawned on me that I still would have to trek several miles back home.
She told me a story about her final trip to Britian when her sister died. She explained the village so vividly that I could visualize the picturesque little community. She talked about her children and explained how she ended up living in my neighborhood but how she would always be a British citizen. We exchanged stories and quickly found people we knew in common.
She was curious about what I was doing and I explained my current business and how I launched my own career and life coaching business. I also told her that I love to write and would probably share our encounter with readers. She responded, “Oh, then you’re not only a counselor but also a writer - you have a writer’s heart”. I responded, “Yes, I suppose I am”. She told me that there are actually many writers living in this part of the Shenandoah Valley and shared some details about them in case I wanted to connect with them.
So, that was the first time somebody referred to me as a writer. I think I’ll sit on this story until I feel brave enough to publish it. Hmm, I wonder if all writers start that way!