You may know the struggle I had a year and a half ago when I left my beloved mountains of 8,000 feet above sea level and repaired to the high desert. I did not want to come here. I loved my rustic cabin, the conifer trees, the open space trails, clear air and perfect weather; and most of all the feisty mountain my blog banner is named for.
I did not want to come here – to the high desert. It was my plan to take a writing sabbatical in Seattle for 5 months, finish a novel, and then see what new adventures life afforded me; maybe on another mountain. But here is where I ended up. I finished my novel. I began another and another. I did not find a publisher, but I found a job. A good job. A job tailor made for me. I love what I do and who I am. The job fits so well that I feel welcome there, welcome to be me and to do what I do well. I feel welcome when I come home at night and write. I feel welcome here, in the high desert. Walking has provided great spiritual, emotional, mental, and of course, physical health for me over the years. I have walked many of the foot paths, back roads and trails in this high desert community. No one has shouted at me to get off the trail- that it is dangerous and I don’t belong there. No one has threatened to call the sheriff on me for walking on a public easement to get to a public building. I have made new friends at work, and at church. I bought lemonade from the boys next door in my new neighborhood.
I will not go so far as to say I feel at home here. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be truly at home anywhere on earth. But, I am able to make my home here, because; I feel welcome here. I am at peace.