November, 2011
Fourteen Months After the Fire
He was alone.
He was unheeded, happy,
and near to the wild heart of life.
— James Joyce
Today I sat in front of the computer all day, working, staring at a screen, and by four o’clock I felt like I was in a cage.
So I leashed up Nellie and walked over to the McClintock Trail, on the east side of Chautauqua Park. The light was fading, and it was approaching Dinner Time for Mountain Lions, so there was no time to lose.
We started up the trail, with the cold wind blowing and bits of snow swirling all around; fading light on a Sunday night in the heart of Winter. We were alone, and as I started up the trail, I felt a strange new energy flowing into me, propelling me upward. I felt like I was being carried by the wind, pulled up by a strong and stable force. I was burning with energy that had long been dormant. It was an amazing feeling.
I let Nellie off the leash and she looked at me for a moment and then tore away up the trail – running at top speed, ears back, kicking up dirt as she ran. I hadn’t seen her run like that in months. She was free, and wild, and alive – the embodiment of doggie-ness.
As I caught up with her and came around the corner at the top of the rise and looked up, I stopped in my tracks. There before me was an amazing view – a panorama of mountains, wide and peaceful, frosted with snow and so, so beautiful. There were the Flatirons, Green Mountain and Bear Mountain, and a lovely, wide meadow. I exhaled and felt all of the stress of the day and the weeks and the months since the fire melt away. It was quiet, and green, and peaceful.
I found a large boulder off the beaten path, and climbed up and sat down to watch Nellie romp in the meadow. The wind blew all around me, cold and fresh, and as I took in the view, I felt Life returning to my body for the first time since this whole Stupid Fire Thing happened.
That part of me that had been off licking its wounds from this damage, this loss, was suddenly back. My soul, my essence, the Light of My Heart, whatever you want to call it – came rushing back in, back into my core, back into my heart. The feeling was so strong that it made me catch my breath. Oh my God, I thought. I am BACK. I am really back. And I started to laugh – really laugh, for the first time in a long, long time.
I’ve felt many things this year besides grief and loss and overwhelm – gratitude, hope, optimism, compassion. But I must confess that real joy, real happiness, has eluded me. I’ve been so afraid that I would never feel joy again. And as I sat there on that rock, in that meadow, I finally felt it. Real happiness, coursing through me – the kind of happiness that makes you laugh out loud, that cracks your face into a smile, and makes you want to do a little dance. The kind of happiness that comes from doing nothing in particular, just watching your little dog romp in the grass of a beautiful meadow in the dying light of a winter evening.
It was getting dark, and I turned around and started back down the hill. I walked a bit, then suddenly started to run, from pure joy. I ran, Nellie ran, and the wind picked up and swirled dead leaves all around us. We raced back down the hill to our little cottage.
I have been suffering this past year, grieving and mourning and raging and flying around like a crazy person, and you know what? That’s just fine. That’s just the dance of grief in all its glory, and you either run with it or shove it down into some other place and pretend you’re Fine and then really go crazy later. But I am no fan of suffering, and it has been painful and tedious. And now suddenly there is a glimmer, a spark, a breath of fresh air in my tired heart.
This is the kind of fire I’ve wanted to feel, and the corner I’ve been waiting to turn. Thank God it is finally here.
Wishing You and Yours a Good Night, and So Much Love,
Andi
PS: Here’s a little video I made titled, “Smile.”
Time lapse photos courtesy of Jerry Long, JA Long Construction. Architectural design by Barrett Studio Architects; David Barrett, Amy Kirtland and Sam Nishek, Architects.
Lovely post. Brought a tear to my eye, and then a big smile–could just envision you running down that hill with Nellie! Beautifully written! The slide show was beautiful–showed such great progress!
Thank you Hilary! I’m so glad you liked them both. Have a great season of gratitude,
Andi
It’s dark and rainy here in Chicago at 5:18 but my heart is feeling so sunny after watching that and thinking about you and Nellie–past, present and future. Few people know that Charlie Chaplin wrote that song. I love the way your song is being written on the blog, in the meadow, on the mountain side and in the world. Thanks for sharing it verse by verse.
lots of love,
Matthew
The day after my husband and I returned from New Zealand, a longtime friend was rushed to the hospital — longtime as in nearly 40 years. All of us who have known him and cared have been concerned for him for years — the fact that he didn’t eat decently, that he avoided exercise, that he had developed a tremor (which he never wanted to talk about since his brother died of Parkinson’s Disease). He had a fall, broke nothing but set off a chain of physical and cognitive problems. He has rallied somewhat in the hospital — enough to be moved to a rehab facility. He’s better, but he will never be “the same” again. I’ve been in a nameless funk for the last 10 days — similar to my parents’ last months. Your wonderful, eloquent post reminded me that while “things happen” in life, we do break past them. So thanks, Andi, I needed that.
Andi, this blew me away, beautiful writing and photos, from your radiant heart. The video is spectacular. And congratulations on the blog post that went viral on Facebook!
Beautiful new house, Andi! Embodies “hope.” Congrats!
Thanks, Andi – for opening your heart and sharing this process with us. I truly *giggled* out loud when the pictures of your expansive deck came up on the screen. You were so wise to choose that particular detail as a must-have and your contractors bringing it to fruition will feed your soul for many years to come.
Warmest regards,
Carrie
Just what I needed to hear this morning. Hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
This time I was able to see the most amazing photos–what a year’s journey. And next year at this time, Nellie and you will run free around your mountain home. So many people are “building” along with you.
Oh, Andi, I am so glad you found joy again! It must have been so hard not to have that feeling for so long. The post was beautiful, and I loved the video, too. Wow, the house is really coming along, and it looks as though the views will be stunning. Congratulations on turning an important corner.
Andi,
I’m so, so happy for you, and for anyone else reading this post and the rest of your blog. Each of us needs the uplift you provide as both you and your home rise from the ashes. The Return of Laughter is definitely something to celebrate. Congratulations about facebook and all the rest of your Very Deserved Recognition.
May the spark of happiness continue to spread warmth and joy!
You have been through so much, Andi, and yet use every opportunity to continue to reflect and be close to the light. Your video was so touching and beautiful, it brought me to tears. You are remarkable and I respect you so much. May your new home fulfill your highest dreams of possibilities. You deserve it.
Wonderful.
Andi, I’m afraid words fail me, but I just had to respond to that wonderful story of returning joy. Blessings and fond good wishes to you and Nellie.
Virginia
Foundation! Walls!! Roof!!! Wow – I am so proud of you. Good work, Andi.
Thank you, Andi — for the beautiful description of your experience of returning joy, for the elegance and poignance of your story-telling, and for that wonderful video! I love the deck! Please … who is singing “Smile”? I want that recording.
Andi, so wonderful to hear that you found joy again. It’s good to know that time, in its own way, does heal all wounds.
Andi, what a hopeful post. I hope that you have many more moments like the one in the meadow. And I loved the “Keep Calm and Carry On” pendant. I saw several signs like that in Seattle.
Andi, I am so very happy that you found the Light of your Heart and laughter again!
It is amazing how the forces of nature can affect the alchemy of life; one minute burning down our homes and, further on down the road, the winds come again to bring freedom and our laughter and life back to us.
Love the video -I know you will have many happy times on that beautiful deck!
Sending big hugs to you and Nellie!