The Landscape of My Soul

I believe that many of us search for answers to the deep questions of life. The quest to understand. Why are we here? What is our purpose? These questions often lead us in many directions. Trying to discover that sometimes elusive knowledge and awareness. To find a deeper meaning and connection. It is a lifetime journey. And for me this journey has brought me into the landscape of my soul.

The landscape of my soul is rich and vibrant and wondrous. It is familiar yet mysterious. It is has no beginning and it has no end. It is vast and wide and deep.

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My travels and exploration of the natural world are at the heart of what gives meaning to my soul. It is here in nature where I find my purpose and I understand better why I am here. This realization isn’t surprising. It feels like a truth I’ve known forever. But I had to uncover and rediscover it. It is all there for me I only need to reach for it.

I recognize these landscapes. It has been a journey into the wildness of my soul.

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Like the trees I am learning I can stand tall even in adversity. My roots deep in the soil finding the nourishment I need from the earth.

Like the mountains I scale with determination, strength, and endurance. Because at the top, the view is magnificent and I can see everything more clearly.

Like the wind whispering truths and the rains that wash my spirit clean

Like the rivers that flow with ease and grace reminding me to move through life in the same way.

Like the sky vast and infinite with its storms and rainbows, its dark clouds and bright sunshine, giving me hope that this too shall pass.

Like the ocean full of beauty, mystery and healing. Its ancient wisdom always teaching me what I need to remember.

All these landscape. All these places within me and around me. I see and embrace them all.

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Places of inspiration, places of joy, places of peace, places of light, places of wonder, places of harmony and places of gratitude.

This is a journey that never ends. This journey into the landscape of my soul.

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For now, it is time to wander in a new direction. I will be back here again someday.  I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for your support and encouragement and for joining me as I wandered…

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Engine #102

This is a very different sort of post for me. But perhaps it isn’t.  It is a part of my story. It’s about feeling something. Something that moved me and brought me to an understanding…about life…and about me.

It happened on a Monday. Around 10:30 am. Engine #102 and her 5 passenger cars were traveling south when she hit a rock slide that had landed on the tracks. It happened just outside of Northfield. The town I live in.  I heard about it while I was at work.

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Photo courtesy of WCAX.com

The rock slide had happened during the night sometime. And it was on a sharp curve on a remote section of the track. It truly came out of nowhere.  And there was no avoiding it.  Engine #102 hit the rock slide head on. She derailed.  

Photos courtesy of Ken Hepburn

Down the deep ravine she fell.  She detached from the rest of the cars.  She came to a rest on her side near a river.

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Photo courtesy of WCAX.com

Emergency crews rushed to get there. But it was difficult. This section of track was not easy to get to.  It took some time.  

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Photo courtesy of WCAX.com

Amazingly, no one was seriously injured.  The conductor suffered a few broken ribs.  The rest of the crew and the 95 passengers on board were unharmed.  A miracle.  

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Photo courtesy of Brian Bell and WCAX.com

The news crews descended upon our small town.  The people who live here sprang to action, providing water and food and shelter.  The emergency crews worked tirelessly for days upon end.

Photos courtesy of Ken Hepburn

Engine #102 lay in the ravine, on her side for over a week. They had to build roads to get her out. They had to bring in special equipment.  They also had to clear the tracks and get the trains back on schedule.

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Photo courtesy of one of the machine operators. I didn’t get his name…

It was a monumental effort.  It was impressive. This effort to save engine #102 and bring her out.

It was because, although her shell was battered, her engine was still intact.  It was worth it to bring her out.  She still had a lot of life left in her.

And then, on a Saturday afternoon, they got her out.  6 days after she had fallen into the ravine.  A huge transport vehicle brought her out of the woods, down a dirt road and into town. 100 tons of metal moving at a speed of 2 miles per hour. It took 2 hours to go the 4 miles into town.

http://www.wptz.com/news/northfield-roads-to-close-while-amtrak-locomotive-removed/35766442

I missed it.  I had plans and couldn’t stay to watch.  I hoped that it would still be happening when I returned from dinner, so I could see her.

But when I got back to town, all was quiet. There was no evidence that anything of that proportion had happened.  And I was curious.  I wanted to know where she was.  Was it possible that they had loaded her onto a flatbed and sent her down the tracks to be repaired already?  How could that be?  I wondered and thought and then investigated.

I drove to the nearest train station in the next town over.  She wasn’t there. But the 5 passenger cars were.  I marveled at the damage and how incredible it was that no one was hurt badly.  And I felt incredibly grateful.  I also felt something else.  An awe at not only the integrity of these train cars, but at the people who coordinated this immense operation. And most of all a deep sense of gratitude.  The mangled cars did their job. They kept their passengers safe.

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Photo courtesy of WCAX.com

But where was Engine #102? When I got home, I scoured the internet.  I looked at the news footage.  And then I saw it.  I saw her coming into town and turning down Wall St.  And I knew. I knew where she was.  She hadn’t left town yet.  She was in the old train yard just a few blocks from where I live.

So I went down there.  It was late.  And as I pulled into the freight yard I could see the bright spotlights and I could see Engine #102.  And I could see the Amtrak police watching over her.  So I didn’t stay.

The next morning, I heard strange noises outside.  The sounds of engines and heavy equipment.  I knew what was happening.  I rushed down to the freight yard.

They were getting her ready I found out.  They were going to load her onto a flatbed car pulled by a large cargo locomotive and bring her to Indiana, where she would be fixed and brought back to her original state.  I stayed and watched this amazing feat of engineering. 100 tons of metal lifted up and onto a flatbed.  It took a few hours.  I stayed and watched it all.  And then…once she was secure…they took off. Heading to the next town over.  They needed to secure her more carefully for the long journey to Indiana.

I stopped by the train station today.  I knew she was still there.  I wanted to see her one last time. I wanted to say goodbye.  I wanted to see the end of this story.

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As I got into my car and drove away, I felt tears on my face.  Why, I wondered, had this train captured my heart so deeply?  Why did I feel something for this hunk of metal? It made no sense to me.

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Yet it did make sense.  Engine #102 symbolized strength.  She reminded me that things happen.  Bad things. That we fall down.  We get hurt.  And that we get wounded and broken sometimes.

And with a little help we get back up. Back on track. Our broken parts get mended. We survive and learn to live again.

Engine #102 is part of my story.  And I will never forget her.

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Better Late Than Never

Fall was late this year in Vermont. We wondered if it would ever arrive or just go straight from summer to winter. The trees were parched as we had little rain. And we wondered if this would affect their color. We waited. We watched. We wondered.

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Then it came. And it was as glorious as ever. I found myself once again in awe at this amazing natural cycle and rhythm. Nature knows. Nature has patience. Nature follows her own timetable. And it was better late than never.

I am also following mine. In this journey called life I am finding I need to have patience too. For so long I have meandered. I have traveled different paths only to find they ended and I had to turn around. Others paths have led me closer to the answers this heart of mine yearns for. Yet I’m still meandering. I am still learning. And I am still growing.

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It is a beautiful thing, this journey. As I dive a little deeper into who I am and to what my purpose here is, I find surprising discoveries..

I am more present. I am feeling tremendous gratitude for the many precious gifts in my life. I am listening closer to what my heart is telling me. It’s not always perfectly clear, but I’m getting better at truly hearing what’s inside me. It’s a journey of progress. Of steps. Of surrendering. Of opening and expanding and most of all…letting go.

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After 23 plus years of sobriety, I think I’m finally figuring it all out. Better late than never.

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Heaven’s Gulch

I tried to get to Devil’s Gulch last year, but along the way I was distracted by Ritterbush Pond and never made it any further.

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This year, I was determined to hike there and to see this unique natural feature on the Long Trail near Belvedere Mountain.

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It was a beautiful day when we set out. Ritterbush Pond appeared, and we did linger there for awhile. How could we not? The calm reflective waters invite lingering.

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But it was Devil’s Gulch that was our destination. The trail there is deceiving. It travels down instead of up. Down, down, down. Deep into a narrow valley.

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A ladder leaning up against a rock face is the first clue that there is more to this place than meets the eye.

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At the top of the ladder you look down into the gulch. Devil’s Gulch. I expected something dark and sinister. But what I saw seemed more like an entrance to a magical and enchanted place. An opening into another time and dimension. It captured my heart immediately and completely.

Huge rocks and boulders lay scattered about before me. Some resting precariously and others seemed as if they had been there forever.

Thickly coated in emerald green moss and lichen. Tree roots embracing and holding them in place.

An altar appeared. Made of rocks and moss. It felt almost church like. And I wondered why. Why was this beautiful place named Devil’s Gulch?

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As the sunlight filtered through the overhead trees and we explored this captivating place, I realized it didn’t matter why. To me, it felt more like Heaven’s Gulch.

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A place of serenity, peace…and a little bit like heaven.

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101.5 Miles

It has been a beautiful summer. I spent many hours enjoying the people and places I love.

This summer I also hiked. I hiked a lot. Sometime in July, I calculated I had hiked over 70 miles since school ended June 20. I decided I wanted to try to hike 100 miles before school began again.

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The mountains in Vermont are glorious. The views and vistas magnificent. No two mountains are alike. The trails vary in length and difficulty. The views partial or a full 360 degrees.

To me, it doesn’t matter. The journey up the mountain is just as special and wondrous as the summit.

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School began August 20. On August 19, I hiked up Sunset Ledge and watched the sun set. As I sat and gazed out I realized I had reached and surpassed my goal of 100 miles.

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This summer I hiked 101.5 miles.

As I climbed down in the dark, I smiled. Maybe next summer I’ll try for 200 miles.

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