I always thought I wanted one day to live in a little cabin, tucked away in the woods.
Peaceful. Remote. Beautiful.
So I fulfilled that dream for a few days just last week. John and I rented a two-bedroom cabin high in the hills above Evergreen, Colorado. Getting there meant traversing a rutted, steep dirt road. So thankful we had a jeep!
Inside, the cabin did not disappoint. Modern appliances. Running water. Flushing toilet. Cozy rooms. Comfortable sofas.
After the harrowing ride up the mountain the first afternoon, I felt elated at the prospect of big gulps of peace and solitude.
I requested a quiet day the next day. “Let’s just sit and read for a day.” John acquiesced.
So the next morning I pulled out my Kindle. He perused the bookshelves in the cabin. I settled into a comfortable chair. He plopped on the sofa.
Occasionally we read bit to each other from our books or stopped for a snack. Except for these word-filled interludes, all other words spoke only from a page or a Kindle screen.
My introverted self recharged. Almost like plugging my phone into an electrical socket. My recharge-meter slowly crept toward 100 percent.
But then something unexpected happened.
By that evening, I became restless. Ironically, my out-going, city-loving husband lay contentedly on the sofa and continued to read.
What had happened to me?
John and I always laugh about how similar we are to the couple in the old TV show, Green Acres. Remember it?
Eva Gabor, a confirmed city-girl comes to live on the farm with Eddie Albert, a confirmed country boy and her new husband.
In the intro to the show every week, Ed sings (while in a three piece suit doing farm chores), “Farm living is the life for me. Land spreading out so far and wide. Keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside.”
Eva crones in response, “New York is where I’d rather stay. I get allergic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view. Darling, I love you, but give me Park Avenue.”
You can watch the intro here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbk81X6WHA4
Countless times I’ve teased John about his common bond with Eva Gabor. He loves Manhattan! And I have insisted that I, like Ed, prefer the rural life. Or the wooded, secluded life.
So . . . what happened to make me restless in the woods? Have I morphed into Eva Gabor? Has John morphed into Eddie Albert?
Simply put, I’ve changed.
I have tasted the deep joy of friendship, of living near people, of sharing life together in hard times and not-so-hard time. Storm-sister living.
God has opened my eyes to his good plan of connected living and shown me the richness of living this way.
Isolation no longer holds the appeal for me that it once did. I now crave the laughter around my brother’s dining room table as his family at all ages and stages gathers. I now savor the conversations with our son and his girlfriend at the end of their long work days. I cherish the moments with my friend, Roberta, as we remember together and clean her mother’s house.
So, goodbye rural, isolated life. Hello populated, connected life. Time, I think to embrace my inner Eva Gabor, with an occasional nod to my inner Eddie Albert, of course.
What about you? How would you describe your dream place? How do people play a role in your dream?
I’ll be posting some Colorado photos on my author Facebook page this week if you want to see ‘em: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Aftonrorvik/675391955878827?ref=hl