​For five winters (2009-14), beginning about this time in November, I would pack up my few necessities and drive an hour and a half north to the cottage by sea on the Maine coast that I rented for five months. I loved those years, and although they no longer fit into my current life, I do miss them.
      As the fall cold and barrenness sets in, I notice that I am carving out moments of cottage days here in my Massachusetts home. I don’t have the view of the ocean, nor the days of complete silence, solitude, and simplicity, but I have that atmosphere much of the time. How grateful I am that the conversation, community, and complexities, rarely stressful. That may sound impossible or even naive, but I am certain it is a goal I should strive for at this time in my life.  
    Silence, solitude, and simplicity is what you make it; you’ll know it when you’re living it. 

​The other day I received an email from a women who had randomly come across my blog. She asked if there was a way to follow it through a link that would let her know when I had posted. My short answer was no.
    But that got me thinking about the nuances involved in keeping up a blog. I started this blog in 2009 during one of my first days at the cottage by the sea. This fall will be the blog’s tenth anniversary. I’ve been quite consistent in posting, and feel it is still vibrant, well, as vibrant as I want it to be.
    I used to offer a daily quote, but that feature now appears every other day. I post every few days, sometimes less often, and usually every day when I’m traveling. I’ve added “Compassionate Reading,” “Secrets of an Old Woman,” and “A Solitary Traveler.”
     The blog is what I want it to be; I feel very little pressure to post. Rather, I post because I have something to say, and I trust that my thoughts support others. I say trust, because I don’t often hear from my readers, as I did Susan. I deeply appreciated the affirmation, but what keeps me going is deeply knowing that my readers and I are benefitting from the silence, solitude, and simplicity that we are experiencing together. I don’t know who most of you are, but I am given the statistic that last week I had 1,798 ‘unique visitors’—whatever than precisely means!!

​     I continue to reminisce about my cottage-by-the-sea (CBTS) days. In fact the cottage has become my muse.
     As I mentioned recently, I’ve been looking for a new acronym for what I’m trying to create here at home. House-by-the-road (HBTR), house-in-the-woods (HITW). Nothing resonates; but that doesn’t matter, because life matters, and here in this house the CBTS mood continues to make itself visible and active--silence, solitude, simplicity, and times alone.
    I notice that I am becoming more intentional about the choices I make to assure this. The rhythm at the original cottage included daily walks, times to sit and be, pray, to meditate, read and write, and to do a jigsaw puzzle. Absent was an evening glass of wine, the telephone, and the TV (I’m not there yet on this last one). Those continue to be some of the physical and mental markers that support the spiritual (emotional and psychological) way of being for which all human being strive.
    Although I had a daily routine at the cottage, I didn’t have a to-do list, nor did I have others depending on me. That made sense for the four days a week I was there, but it doesn’t work for my life here at home. However, getting rid of being compulsively and unwittingly busy, busy, busy does make senses. In fact, it is one of the essential criteria for silence, solitude and simplicity, which leads to that place of inner peace deep in our souls. 

     ​As soon as the Red Sox clinch the World Series. I’ll be able to return to silence, solitude and simplicity. Hmm, always an excuse, isn’t there?
      As I’ve mentioned, I’ve been remembering, admittedly with some nostalgia, my cottage-by-the-sea (CBTS) days. The cottage has been sold, so there’s no going back there, nor do I want to look for another place. That time was then and now is now, but there is something about those five winters by the ocean that I still long for. Not the venue but the calming atmosphere. My conscious desire for silence, solitude, and simplicity began when I starting looking for a cottage to rent, and it was then that I started this blog.
     But now is now, and I find myself imaging silence, solitude, and simplicity at this house-at-16 Concord Road (HA16CR). That acronym doesn’t resonate, but I have until the 2018 World Series Pennant is raised at Fenway Park to come up with one that speaks to our lifestyle. 

​I’ve been thinking about my cottage-by-the-sea, missing those four days in a row with in solitude and silence living in simplicity. When walking this morning, I thought about the early morning sunrises and my walks on the beach, every morning. 

     ​This blog of mine is about to enter it’s tenth year. Unbelievable, but true. My first entry was in November 2009 as I began going to the cottage-by-the-sea. I was searching for silence, solitude and simplicity, and I still am.
     These peaceful ways of being aren’t found once and for all, but become  more authentic as we keep our eye on the search. Yes, we slip at times into the chaos of worldly life, but that backslide is challenged and stopped by our commitment to greater forward movement.
      The continued existence of this blog is proof that I am making progress toward silence, solitude, and simplicity. Although I no longer go to the cottage, the memories keep the image alive, developing, and growing as I  travel to Florence and Scotland, or stay at home with a good book. The sections I’ve added, A Solitary Traveler and Compassionate Reading, attest to this. and am considering adding a new one about aging. Stay tuned. 

   I am continually surprised that friends still think I am going to the cottage by the sea. Because I keep the title and picture for this blog, they assume I am still driving up to Maine and sitting on the deck looking out. Those days ended in 2015, but memories remain and as does my longing for silence, solitude and simplicity. Plus, I sometimes like to be alone.
     In place of this weekly cottage time, I have traveled more, and as I am confident to claim, I love traveling alone. This works out well because my husband loves staying home and working in the garden.
     When we went through our recent decision to move to a condo, I had to put off my usual spring trip to Italy. But when we came to our senses and decided to stay young in this old house for at least a few more years, I immediately got on the internet and arranged a trip to Italy with Monastery Stays. Usually I just go to Florence, but my April 4-19 itinerary is different: Rome (4 nights), Assisi (3), Cortona (1), and Florence (6). I’ll be staying at convents—guesthouses run by nuns. They are beautiful spaces, inexpensive, simple, and all ensuite.
     A cottage by the sea is wherever you feel at peace. 

      A benefit of solitary travel is that I have an extended period of time to consider things. Please, I don’t choose the word things lightly. I need a word that is unspecific and that covers myriad topics, ideas, dreams, subjects, themes, issues, events, passions, and obsessions—all those things. You can tell that I checkedmy computer thesaurus; the list could be longer.
      One of the things I’ve been considering is this blog—ways to spruce it up, clean it up, add the new, get rid of the old—little things. It is the big things that I will keep: the name, acottagebythesea, and the purpose, A blog for those who are looking for silence, solitude and simplicity, and who sometimes want to be alone. These are my heart, my bliss. I’ll keep blogging and blabbing, and from time to time include a recipe, travel article, poem, and book review.

       Here’s what I posted as an update on “About me and my blog.”
      I started acottagebythesea in 2009, the year I first rented a cottage in Maine for the winter. I followed that bliss for five years before it was time to stop. This blog, however, has continued because it was never about a particular cottage, but about those who are looking for solitude, silence and simplicity and who sometimes like to be alone. That still holds true for me, and I trust, for those of you following along.
Not much has changed for me except I am older, about to celebrate my 78th birthday. I still have a healthy husband who doesn’t like to travel, but loves that I do. Our grown children and their spouses are caring people. Two grandchildren are in college, two in high school. I love my three siblings, one who just turned 70, one in her early 70s, and one just experiencing what it’s like to be an
My teaching career remains a beautiful memory. I taught in a golden age when teachers helped children learn to read and love it. Teachers are still buying my book Joyful Learning in Kindergarten. It warms my heart to think that they are longing for joy, not standardized tests, to guide the teaching and learning in their classrooms.
     The divinity degree I earned in 2003 remains an important foundation for what I do. For five or six years I was the spiritual care counselor for a local hospice. In 2009, two years before my mother died at age 101, I stopped the official hospice work, and to a large extent devoted my mind, body, and spirit to her. In 2015 I published Very Grateful: The Story of My Hundred Year Old Mother and Me.
    I have slowed my life down. I take on fewer long-term obligations, thus leaving more time for my own choices. I am a deacon at my UCC church; I visit people on a regular basis; I help at a local food pantry; I read and do jigsaw puzzles; I keep up with family and friends; I write; and I pray. A very grateful life, for sure.

      When I started going to the cottage-by-the-sea in 2009 I was looking for physical solitude. I wanted to be alone for days at a time, and without a doubt I loved every day of it. But now, in 2017 I’m satisfied with the solitude I feel in every present moment.
     Thomas Merton suggests, “Solitude is not found so much by looking outside the boundaries of your dwelling as by staying with them. Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present; and unless you look for it in the present, you will never find it.”
     It’s a darn good thing to be able to find solitude wherever you are in the present moment. It sure makes life a lot easier. A cottage-by-the-sea is hard to come by; think cost, time, life style, and obligations such as family and job.
     But what about my solitary trips to Florence? The boundaries of my indwelling seem to include getting away by myself for a period of time. That hasn’t changed, although I feel more grounded in my internal solitude.
     I feel extremely privileged to have these getting-away opportunities, and truth be told, from time to time I feel a tinge of guilt surrounding my good fortune. But I am who I am, living in this time and place, in these particular circumstance. I don’t believe in making myself miserable; I don’t believe anyone should be miserable.
     My hope is that in doing the only thing I can do—determined to save the only life I can save * I will inspire others to do the same.
 
*Thank you, Mary Oliver. See “The Journey,” posted on the home page of this blog.