July 14, 2024
Photo by Mike Goad on Pixabay
One year ago our family traveled to New Hampshire to bury our dad’s ashes. Gathering in the place of our family history gave us a deep sense of connection to our past and our identity. We were also filled with memories of summer vacations in New Hampshire which meant camping at Pawtuckaway State Park. That place is deeply ingrained in my cell memory with its tall pines, placid lake, and wild blueberry bushes.
My parents always chose a lakefront campsite where we could hear the water lapping against the shore and put in a canoe. We would pitch our orange tent, inflate 5 air mattresses with our own breath, and lay them snugly side by side. We had a blue and yellow canopy over the picnic table, a Coleman stove, an ice chest, and camp chairs. It was our home away from home for two weeks. We would rent two canoes and paddle around the lake, immersed in the beauty and serenity of nature. There was a beach where we sunned and swam, and trails for hiking. We camped here every other summer throughout my childhood, and visited my grandparents down the road in Chester.
I’ve been longing for that lakeside campsite and wondering how to stay steady in these dark and turbulent times. It’s not hard to imagine that things are going to get worse before they get better. It feels chaotic and scary. We don’t have control over what is happening, but we can choose where to pitch our tent. If we are to keep our peace and sanity, we need to consciously center ourselves in wholeness, oneness, and Love. This is the holy ground of our being. When we abide or camp in this consciousness, we bring it forth into the world.
Pitching a tent involves finding and preparing the right place, then driving several stakes into the ground. To expand on the analogy, I looked online and found some tips. First, it’s important to choose the right location with level, well-drained ground that’s sheltered from the wind and away from wet areas. Also, it’s best not to pitch under trees or other plants that might drop things on you. To prepare the area, clear away rocks, pine cones, sticks, and stones.
What great advice! How often do we camp out in negative thoughts and conditions where we get “muddied” by the muck or battered by wind? It’s important to remember that we can pull up our stakes, move to higher ground, and seek shelter from the “elements” that disturb our peace. Clearing our minds and our environments of sticks and stones helps us maintain focus and clarity. We need to retreat into the quiet center of our being to rest and listen. This brings comfort and joy.
While camping at Pawtuckaway, we ventured out to visit family and friends, go hiking, and see the sights, returning for rest and renewal. It was our “home base” for those weeks in New Hampshire.
When our tent is pitched securely in a place of wholeness, we gain strength, wisdom, and inspiration for right action in the world. If we are camping in a place that erodes our sense of peace and well-being, we are not as equipped to do the work before us. We may be carrying a load of anxiety, anger, and despair. This does not serve us or the world. We need to find a new campsite.
The coming months are going to be stormy, which we don’t want to imagine when we are already exhausted. The rising tide of fear and anger threatens to pull us under if we’re not prepared. Gather your physical, mental, and spiritual gear and pitch your tent on solid, level ground. Be alert and intentional with your thoughts, words, and actions. A shift in consciousness is the only way out of this mess, and it happens in the present moment.
Relish, joy, and pleasure are one solution to exhaustion, just for today. So is a walk around the ‘hood, noticing people’s gardens… Paying attention to real life (as opposed to cable news) relieves exhaustion, because it awakens us. It makes us laugh. Laughter is a battery charge. Laughter, once again, is carbonated holiness. -Anne Lamott
Comfort & Joy,
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Elisa J. Juarez
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