Jeannette's Wisdom July 11, 2017

I am often struck by how my friend Jeannette can hit the nail on the head.  I have known her for more than thirty years, and I can turn to her when I just need to let someone know I am struggling.  She is the kind of person who is in touch with her own feelings.  She also pays attention to sage ideas of others, such as  “as we get older, we shift from doing to being”, or “when we near the end of life, we may have to be content with just looking out of a window”. 

Well, I said to myself, this will have to be one helluva great window! 

And this all brings me to Point Reyes Station, a speck of a town on Route One, north of San Francisco at the junction of the American and Pacific Plates and the epicenter of the 1906 earthquake.  Thirteen years ago, in my quest to have a home in the country, I bought a plot of land and built a simple home on a horse pasture in this little community.  I also included a small guesthouse, built initially with the hope that my father might move there (he had a stroke, unfortunately, and never could), but also accommodating friends and family who could enjoy this magnificent wilderness with me.  I am off the information grid out here – no internet, no TV, no phone, and no cell phone service.  It is my own little Tassajara retreat, complete with endless hiking, daily yoga, swimming in Tomales Bay, and deep sleep.

In the ten years since the house was completed, my stays out here have typically been very brief, as I was always juggling work, school, and Annie’s commitments.  But in the past year, I have spent longer and longer stretches of time.  I settle into someone else, it seems. I talked to Jeannette about this, and her insight is that when I come here, I let go of my achievement side, the need to perform, to succeed, to push new boundaries.  Indeed, I am being and not doing. 

And talk about view!  I have that helluva great window!  I overlook a large pasture with horses (not mine) and a few farm buildings, with the Inverness Ridge and its attendant fog looming in the background.  Herons, badgers, bobcats, hawks, foxes, and frogs come by.  The grass in the breeze is mesmerizing. I have everything I need.

Just back from Rome, I have settled in here again, and as I plunk myself down on the deck, I realize that my decision to purchase this land and to build this house, as stressful as that whole process was, was one of the best decisions I have ever made.