RAMBLINGS ON MY SANCTUARY
By Sue Ellen Lucia
A cause for celebration! This morning, on a sunny 52 degree day, up on my beloved Drummer Hill, within the protected confines of the tall fir trees surrounding My Pond, I enjoyed my first al fresco brunch of 2009. The snow that had covered my sitting rock since December had finally evaporated and the seat was mine again. Just me and the birds, the sound of water going over the little dam at the end of the Pond, and an intermittent soft breeze - a cool spring breeze that is unlike any other breeze. It even smells different.
Drummer Hill seems to me to be Keene’s most undiscovered jewel. Only on occasion do other hikers cross my path. For ten years now I’ve called it my mountain. People scoff at that because, after all, it is Drummer Hill. To me, though, some of the trails there are steep enough and rise high enough to term it a mountain. Logistics of title aside, it is my place to escape city sounds and pavement and everyday frets and fumes, and to unite with the Source of All. It is one place where it’s easy to be in the Now, the precious Present, to unburden one’s mind of the ego battering that seems a life constant.
Every time I enter the woods, my first thought (which I say out loud) is “Lord, you’ve done it again. You‘ve created this spectacular day“. No matter the season or the weather - rain, hail, sleet, snow, cold, sunny, beautiful - here’s another day I have to be grateful for the legs that carry me to where my soul longs to be. And grateful for my senses that I can take in the sights, sounds, smells, and touches of my forested earth. And, in fact, grateful for everything that is.
In spite of not being a particularly adventurous person, I have followed a calling to explore a myriad of trails, with only the presumption as to where they might lead. These trails are mostly single-track, carved out of the woods by creative and intrepid mountain bikers who I almost never see. It’s difficult enough to scale and descend a few of these trails by foot, so steep are they; I can’t imagine them being navigated on a mountain bike.
Little by little over the years I’ve delved deeper and deeper into the inner sanctuary of this blessed forest, repeating each trail walk until it becomes a best friend, my favorite trail, until I hike the next one which then becomes my favorite! Sometimes before I fall asleep at night, I visualize the details of a trail I may have enjoyed that day and think of one I might trek tomorrow.
The quiet solitude I feel on my mountain is balm like no other. Especially sitting on the bank of My Pond, I feel safer than anywhere I can think of. The canopy of trees overhead creates a feeling of protected-ness akin to being cuddled in a mother’s embrace. I feel no loneliness there, as the Divine Presence is in everything I see, and I know nothing can hurt me on Drummer Hill. Some would argue that, but I have a Knowing that makes it my truth and reality. So to them I say, “ Quit calling me naïve or foolhardy.”
How many times have I spent how many tears there over how many trauma dramas of my life? How many times have I prayed for all kinds of things and bled gratitude for many more? And how often have I just looked around me and tears come simply because it’s so beautiful, such a nice day, so quiet, so perfect.
Many times; many, many times.
