Blog Archives - A Cottage by the Sea

Thoreau and Walden Pond revisited~

11/29/2013

Yesterday morning we walked around Walden Pond. It was a new experience for my grandchildren but not for me. Thoreau is a longtime buddy of mine. In fact, I’ve posted this quote before.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life. And see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

I like to think that I go to the cottage for something similar to Thoreau’s venture into the woods. I go to live simply and intentionally and to learn from that. I go because I believe that there are things that I can only learn by being alone for extended periods of time. I go with the hope that when I die, I won’t have regrets that I had not lived to my fullest.

Here at home, all that remains of Thanksgiving is the turkey carcass, memories, and much to be grateful for. Family has departed, silence, solitude and simplicity remain. After holiday festivities it always takes me a while to unwind. I can’t just stop and be. Tidying up the house helps; so does a nap and a walk.

It's all to give away~

11/27/2013

We’ve just returned from a visit to the cottage; my husband, our daughter, two grandchildren and me. We ate lobster by the sea in Portland, played word games by the sea at the cottage, and took photographs and went metal detecting on the beach by the sea. It was a by the sea time.

I don’t open up my cottage to many--one or two friends who need a little solace, and immediate family whenever they can make the trip. I have nothing to hide here, but if too many people stopped by, the silence, solitude and simplicity would disappear. Although I believe in the maxim that it’s all to give away, it seems that the best way to give away silence, solitude and simplicity is it to keep some of it to myself and give away what I can on the blog.

Don't clean up or stress out!

11/25/2013

I’m experiencing a family version of silence, solitude and simplicity, which really means there isn’t much. This afternoon, however, five family members have gone off on various excursions; the three of us remaining are enjoying that old-fashioned ‘quiet hour’.

That may take care of the silence and solitude, but what about simplicity, which is a different kind of challenge? When it comes to keeping up with all the clutter that seems to appear out of nowhere, one solution is: Don’t keep cleaning up! That works for the craft table, but cooking and clearing up is an on-going activity and not always simple.

The best solution is: Don't stress out!

"I'm writing!"

11/23/2013

Two days ago on my way home from the cottage I took a detour to Boston on the T to meet a long-time teacher friend for dinner. She was in town to attend the national conference of NCTE (National Council of Teachers of English), one that I was involved in for many years back in my teaching days. It was wonderful to reconnect with so many friends and to hear them taking about students and teachers, not for common core standards and national testing.

     As I sat at the Elementary Section gathering, it became clear to me how far away I was from my teaching days. The buzz of ideas that would have excited me, now made me only smile and think: “I had my turn; now the enthusiasm goes to the next generation.”

     “What are you doing these days?” I was asked over and over again. I told about my divinity degree, my hospice work, my family, my cottage, and then,

       “I’m writing!”

     My response seemed more than satisfying and I wondered why. Then I got it. These teachers believed that writing began before kindergarten. They just saw me continuing the process.

Every sunrise--awesome!

11/22/2013

As I drove up here the other day I promised myself that I wouldn’t take as many pictures of the sunrise. I must have 1000 stored on my computer, and that ought to be enough. But no; promise broken. Each view is the same, but oh so different--different hues, clouds, water, time and location on the horizon. Each sunrise is of the moment, of what is there, and what I see on this given day. The sun will never arise or appear again as it does today, which is why I sit for an hour and watch. Awesome.

Changes over the four years~

11/20/2013

What has changed since Day #1 four years ago when I first started coming here, when I first walked the beach. Let me start with my family situation and thoughts about aging. The most important change, of course, is my mom, who died two years ago at age 101; I was turning 72. Our kids continue to do fine, the grandkids are teenagers, my husband, at age 75, is healthy, and so am I as I move toward my 74th birthday.

    I notice that over the past four years I have accepted, maybe even embraced, being in my 70s. Good thing because what’s a person to do? In fact, I like my age; I like that people don’t expect as much from me. I can float along, play the ‘age card’ and reap the benefits, such as taking the seat offered to me on the crowded T into Boston.

    This aging thing, however, has been a challenge because I think I’m younger than I am. Truly, literally! I’ve always looked young, acted young and thought of myself as young. It took me forever to grow up, so no surprise that I have experienced a slight development delay in settling into the meaning of old age for me. Old age? Not really. After all, I can still climb to the top of Brunelleschi’s duomo in Florence and walk the beach for a couple of hours here at the cottage. That hasn’t changed.

     What has changed is my certainty of purpose, my conviction that what I am doing is right for me. I like solitude and so I take it; I believe in God and so I pray. I’m fine with who I am and what I’m doing but am still striving for humility. I don’t have to try to act grown up; I am grown up.

      Being a kid at heart, I’m laughing at what I just wrote. Maybe I haven’t aged.

Morning miracle~

11/19/2013

'Very grateful' for the cottage~

11/18/2013

I’m here. I arrived yesterday early afternoon. The only change I’ve noticed so far at the cottage is the coffee pot, and I can handle that. ‘Use what you have’ as the expression goes. The view is the same, but of course it’s always different--that’s the way of the sun and the sea. This foggy and rainy morning there was no sunrise to delight in, but that didn’t matter. I knew it was happening as I sat on the deck (living room) for an hour and half, grateful for what was in front of me and for this opportunity to be here for another season.

Now, a few hours later, there are breaks in the clouds on the horizon; the rain has stopped; the sea is quiet but busy. I’ve made some oatmeal, posted the daily quote on this blog, checked my email, started my ‘Lighthouse of New England’ jigsaw puzzle and am about to head out to walk the beach. I want to bask in the silence, solitude and simplicity. ‘Very grateful.’

Silence, solitude and simplicity at the cottage~

11/17/2013

That's all I have to say right now.

Back to the cottage: Part 2

11/15/2013

Back to the cottage: Part 2.
       My fourth season at the cottage begins in two days. Nothing basic has changed, at least not the physical venue, my routine or my intentions. I still long for silence, solitude and simplicity and sometimes I like to be alone. It’s the deepening that has changed—a deeper longing and a deeper feeling of peace.

      I keep asking the big question: ‘Why do I want this?’

      I keep hearing the same personal and mysterious answer: “So I can be with God and pray for people.”

      I don’t usually share these details of my personal journey. You have your own path, I have mine. I have no intention of trying to convince you to do as I do, think as I think, or believe as I believe. I share in the hope that what I write will tweak some longing in you.

     I believe, however, that all human beings long for something beyond the self that they know, beyond words or intellectual understanding, something deeply felt and mysteriously known, call it peace, God, the Holy, Soul.