My Very Own Log Cabin Retreat
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| My special reading and "tunganga" nook |
No TV (not that it makes a difference as I still keep a 2-hour per month TV viewing time), intermittent internet service, 953 meters uphill climb to the main road, no junk food (does chocolate count?), an almost deafening silence especially at night, a very rustic but truly artistically inspired cottage. A bit daunting except for the first one, but, over Skype last night, my friend whom I trust to tell me things others probably would think twice about saying, blurted out: "Hindi ba 'yan ang hinahanap mo?" Indeed, this is what I am longing for. Away from the usual comforts of home but also blessed with nature's bounty. Instead of the usual whirring sound of vehicles, the early morning call of roosters and the melodious sound of birdsongs woke me. Rather than the hamper filled with stuff I still need to decide how to get rid of as I try to live a more minimalist lifestyle, the first thing that caught my eyes this morning were the trees from the picture window at the living area and which I could see from my bedroom's sliding door.
Since this is not a real log cabin where one does everything, it was a real joy to be served a healthy breakfast of homemade pancakes, yogurt, fresh orange slices and juice, and lady grey tea (I didn't even know there's such a thing but I had a love-at-first-taste affair with it) by the window where my eyes could enjoy the company of trees. Lunch was a full course meal of (with guilt and shame) osso buco and mountain rice. The osso buco was fantastic. I promised myself the next meals will be more healthy and less fancy.
The best part of this retreat is of course the space to be alone and to choose to be on koala mode throughout the day. The gift of time and space to contemplate on things - on the very ordinary things - instead of operating on auto-pilot mode is invaluable. Here then is an attempt to capture the highlights of today's reflections, an exercise I hope to do for the next five days (or six, if energy allows it on my travel back to reality).
Digital detox: When I noticed the slow and intermittent connection in the suite yesterday, a part of me panicked. I had to calmly talk to myself and remind myself that spending less time in social media was one of things I planned on doing while here. A few deep breaths and I was fine with it. On waking this morning though, when internet connection was better, I found notifications on my phone, one of which was just too difficult to ignore. How could someone tag me in a post promoting and celebrating his candidate's success at the VP debate yesterday when my own Facebook wall screamed of "Leni is my VP" hashtags. And then there were all the accounts of the debate I missed yesterday. Before I knew it, I had spent an hour and a half browsing through Facebook and several links. One of my inner voices began screaming: "Didn't we say we're spending less screen time? You just moved out of your room, but you're still looking at the same screen. Whatever happened to enjoying nature?" It was a voice I couldn't simply brush aside, a voice for which no rationalisation was good enough. The voice was right. I just changed settings but continued my usual practice. I had a beautiful scenery of trees I could watch from bed but there I was losing myself in my screen. On my journal I wrote: "At the end of the day, it's not where you are but what you choose to look at that matters."
To make my bed or not. What a dilemma. It's no big deal making up the bed, really. But there were two voices in my head. One was saying, "didn't we just learn in intentional living that one of the things we can do to boost our confidence when we're feeling off is to start with little things like making our bed? It signals you're ready for the day, and it's an accomplishment in itself." Yet, the other voice countered, "Aren't we on vacation mode? Today isn't about success and accomplishments or even boosting your morale. Today is about BEING." The second voice won. It's almost 6:00 PM, and my bed looks exactly as I left it this morning. "It is not what life offers you but how you approach life," I wrote on my journal. Intentional living doesn't have to be a platform for more OC-ness. And so I went about my first day here doing absolutely nothing of significance aside from taking a bath.
. .. but oh, I'm back to blogging after I-can't-even-figure-out-how-long. I guess the seemingly unproductive day brought forth fecundity coming from a more contemplative stance.
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