Dec 9 to 22 - A New Kind Of December In Eagle Point, OR

Margo leading Nikki while Lillie keeps a close watch

We are back in the car today - for the first time since getting groceries on December 10 - driving the 4.5 hours to Portland, OR. We are both noticing that this experience of driving, something we had become so accustomed to on our travels, feels strange, foreign, and deeply unnatural. It is like the highways and other vehicles, and Dairy Queens and gas stations are this abstract dream that we’d wake up from all sweaty and say, “of thank God that was just a dream!” Everything seems to be moving so quickly. The sight of road kill hurts more than it did a couple weeks ago. I want to close my eyes and go back to the tranquility. That world made more sense to me.

I know that we will soon adjust to this frequency of the highway and other people, as we have throughout our lives, but for now, I’m going to write, and savour the station we’ve been tuning to since December 9, when driving up, a Bald Eagle, and moments later, a Golden Eagle, welcomed us to our most recent house sit.

The view from the back deck

Our first night we got toured around and had dinner with the homeowners Donna and Jerry. Jerry and I also had a little ping-pong tournament and it was nice to feel some competitive fire, something that often feels inappropriate when I try to stuff it between Margo and I. I think my hunger surprised Jerry when I dove for a shot and fell beside the table :)

Like most of the people we’ve met through our housesitting travels, they were remarkably interesting people. They met 40 years ago as contestants in a kinetic sculpture race, and regularly attend Burning Man - Jerry being the electrical engineer responsible for the flames in El Pulpo Mechanico. (check it out, it's incredible). ...They left early the next morning to their place in Mexico where they run an animal rescue refugio. We went to Medford, the closest sizeable town to pick up their car from the airport and get enough groceries to last us until Portland.

Sunrise from the deck, overlooking the shop

80 acres on the side of a mountain surrounded by forest and field, 2 horses, Jewel and Nikki, a heartbreakingly sweet elder Border Collie named Lille, a flock of Bluebirds and mule deer so consistently present, and yet always a delight. We couldn’t see or hear any other people or human activity from the property. 4 times a day we’d walk down to the horses to give them hay and love, to muck out their stalls, and move them to different areas.

We went for a few nice hikes and discovered from Lillie’s strange behaviour one night, that ticks were in abundant supply here. Lillie had a few on her, and more around her bed. We shook out our clothes and found more. Margo had one in her underwear. I had one biting my head. This was new to us, but after the rat in our engine (from our previous entry), the tick surprise was pretty minor.

Margo and Lillie doing their tick-check ritual

So what happens in this kind of peaceful nature abundance? We meditated a lot; we practiced our singing exercises from our Yoga of the Voice workshop; we made good food; nurtured our bodies with yoga, reiki, and strength training; we worked on creative business projects (Margo's page, Luke's page); I worked on music and Margo worked on her children’s book and other writing projects; Margo did some work on investing; we had a day of silence where we communicated minimally, only through written notes.

It struck us both how unusual it was to feel so peaceful and relaxed at this time of year, far removed from the yuletide mania, especially with all our gifts already bought and mailed. This gave us the opportunity to reflect and come together about what our ideal way of engaging December would be going forward. I reflected about how the earth is doing something incredible, the Christmas myth being a superimposition onto pagan, earth-centred traditions that recognized something wonderful being born out of this time of rest and darkness. We essentially got to do what I envisioned. Letting go of the need to leave the property. Getting quiet and going inward. Resting and waiting for something to be born, trusting that there is a natural process at play when not being driven by a list of giving and socializing to check off for fear of being called a grinch. This was a powerful time for me, and I am so grateful to have the mainstream holiday story not screaming in my face so that I could be attuned to what is real now.

There were many vivid times of walking outside, with my barn clothes and rain boots, feeling so present and expanded in the delight of being … every other desire falling away.

Just … savouring … now…. aaahhhh ……

Then near the end of our stay, a desire to give my gift, to share joy and music rose up. It came with such a force that it reminded me of adolescent lust, in its rapturous yearning and hopeful belief in the world opening up to embrace me. My imagining is that I tasted a bit of what a world-shaping visionary, like Jesus or Martin Luther King Jr. has coursing through them.

The solstice moon rising up over the ridge

Thank you beings of Eagle Point, and this wonderful time of year and for holding us so tenderly before pushing us out of the nest. …

The day before we left, Lillie knew, so she waited by the car, making sure we wouldn't leave without her. Oh Lillie, you should stay, you've got it good there.