PEACE, MAYBE

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I keep a journal.  It's not fancy - just a medium-sized spiral-bound notebook.  Usually, I record what I'm thinking.  Usually, it's something that frustrated me that day.  That helps to externalize it - push it away from me.  There's a recurring theme in my journal - how do I strengthen my spiritual internal self.

Last year, at just about this time, I took a personal retreat.  I reserved a cabin in Townsend, Tennessee.  Townsend is known as the "quiet side of the Smokies," and that it was.  Only one or two fast food places.   No shopping.  No movie theater. No tourist attractions.  In fact, when I was talking to the person who met me at my cabin, I asked her if Townsend was just a little farther down the road.  She chuckled and said, "Oh, no.  This is it.  You're here."

What's important is what I didn't take with me: a computer, an iPod; in other words, nothing electronic that would shout at me for the week.  As soon as I backed out of the driveway, I turned off my car radio/CD player and I drove from Lexington to Townsend in silence.  It was wonderful.   When I arrived in my cabin, I unplugged the TV and pushed the radio to the back of the refrigerator top.  I did take my phone, but advised people that I would check text messages only once - at the end of the day.  And I stuck to that promise.


Townsend is at the entrance to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  Each day, I woke at around 6:00.  I didn't set an alarm - it just happened that way.  I read for a bit on the screened-in back porch.  It was spirit-driven reading - I opened my Bible to Luke, closed my eyes, turned to a page and put my finger on a verse.  I read the verse over and over - slowly, and then thought about what it was saying.  Afterwards, I ate breakfast, got dressed for the day, and headed out to the Park.  I drove.  I walked.  I sat.  I even fell in a creek and hurt my wrist.  (I'd like to think that was a slippery rock and not Parkinson's.)   More days than not, I didn't talk to anyone for the entire day.  But what I did do, especially while sitting and staring into a creek, was contemplate what that passage from Luke meant for me. Amazingly, I managed to stay away from thinking about "why me?".  Why am I bipolar and have Parkinson's?  The answer didn't matter.  It was my intent to try to hear what Luke was saying about the here and now - not about what happened a couple of years ago.  

After a full day in the Park, I headed back to my cabin for dinner and some light fictional reading.  I went to bed around 10:00 and as I went to sleep, thought some more about what I could take from that morning's reading.  The next morning, I got up and did it again.

My last day in the Park.

I can't say that  I had any type of life-changing revelation while I was there.  I didn't find permanent inner peace.  I'm glad I didn't set my exceptions that high.  What I can say is that this introvert found a way to get calm for a few days and minimize the daily assaults on her brain.  I had to respond to no one's needs other than my own.  Doing so next to rippling water quieted me.  Of course, I took my journal with me  - and I'm pleased to report two things.  First, there was a difference for the better in the tone of the entries while I was in Townsend.  Second, going back and rereading those entries brings and looking at pictures I took while I was there lets me relive a little peace, if only for a moment.  I believe I will plan a return trip just as soon as I can.


Peace.
Gayle