It's amazing the things you think you can't live without that you really don't need. My husband I and stayed in this adorable little cabin for a few days during our fall vacation last week. It was so peaceful. I've always wanted to go on a fall vacation and I was certainly not disappointed. There were hardly any people at the campground, though even if there had been our cabin was so secluded from the rest of the grounds that we probably wouldn't have heard them anyway. It was tiny (very, very small) but it had the basics. Running water (cold only), a cooking stove, a small fridge, pots, pans, dishes, utensils, a bed and a little dining table. It didn't have a bathroom but there was one nearby, just a short walk away. And there wasn't any heat so it did get a little chilly at night, but the cook stove helped keep things fairly warm after dinner.
I read a lot, and we napped, walked our dog, Peeka, talked and took pictures. It was so restful: No telephone, no email, no TV, no commitments. We actually talked about that--how rested we felt by only the second day. Time moved so slowly and it was lovely.
We tried to keep the vacation mentality going once we got home as we had a few days left to relax, but it's much, much harder here. The television went on. I had to check my work email account. We had to run some errands. I needed to make a few phone calls and a batch of thank you muffins for my Mom and sister who took care of the pets who remained here at home. The telephone started ringing, the lawn needed raking, the dishes had to be washed.
I can't help thinking though, that there must be a way to bring that peaceful cabin-in-the-woods feeling into our lives on a more regular basis. I noticed that even my thoughts, which had become slow as molasses in the woods, have returned to their jumpy, "don't-forget-to-do-that" ways. While we were away, my mind slowed down enough that I was thinking of only one thing at a time. I had time to really notice things like the gorgeous shades of the leaves, the smell of the neighbor's wood stove, the warmth of the little propane cooking stove, the sound of my breath and my heartbeat.
And those are basics that I want to focus on more. Less rushing, more savoring. Less stuff, more enjoyment. Less media, more time for what's important, for what's real. This post at Zen Habits sums it up really well.
So with that, I'm logging off of the computer and taking some time to study the leaves right outside my window. It won't be long before they are gone and all I'll have left will be the pictures.