This is the work of what I am currently learning in school. I might more accurately say this is what I am currently learning in life, which is nothing new. It happens to also be a quotation from the Psalms and the words my biodynamic cranial sacral therapy teacher said in class yesterday.
Being still and knowing is challenging with a schedule. Perhaps that is why so many of us have schedules. I have always been fond of one – especially a full and busy one. My classroom is teaching me to be still and know no matter what is going on. Sometimes during lecture there can be three or five side conversations happening while a young student is beating her thymus with a tennis ball. My average ability to focus on what an instructor is saying is inversely proportional to the amount of chaos happening in the periphery. I have lots to time to quiet myself anyway and to contemplate what I know. Usually some of the lecture seeps through that quiet even if the specifics I am desperately interested in escape my clutches.
I got to be still at Fossil Creek. I last left you with backpacks packed around me so it’s time to share some beauty with you and to claim boldly and proudly that I hiked and and out with my pack – my first trip since college without incident or even very much complaining.
Here is our camping set up on the creek. Allen found us a place protected by huge rocks. Canyon wrens sang their haunting song into the evening and morning.
I got to write, read, contemplate, restore and rest. Our tent allowed a good view of the stars so we could crawl into a warm sleeping bag and watch the constellations make their journeys across the quilt of night.
This is dinner. Allen figured out how to cut up chicken and peppers with an army knife and an old log as a cutting board and made the tastiest chicken stir fry I’ve ever eaten. He also managed to have rice cooking on the same stove to come out with the chicken and pepper. For dessert: hot chocolate with peppermint schnaaps. The picture below was taken BEFORE dessert. truly.