
Peace of the Forest

We began walking in the gray, pre-dawn light. The air was chilly, but not cold. The sound of the creek tumbling over boulders and smaller rocks provided our hiking music. I was excited to share this magical trail with a dear friend, visiting from the coast of Alabama.

The day before, we hiked in freezing temperatures up the Bypass Trail at Kuwohi and then on to Andrews Bald. We shared deep soul conversation as we enjoyed the fir and spruce forest. This day, we were silent as we began the ascent. That silence opened a doorway for complete peace to be birthed.

In the weeks leading up to the very polarized election, we were experiencing stress, anxiety, and all the other feelings that occur when democracy is at stake. The forest embraced us in its silence and soothed our ragged emotions.

At one point, we stopped and just breathed with the trees. It’s a powerful practice to do solo; however, having a soul-sister join in the mindfulness practice made it magical. Imagine if more of us practiced breathing together…add the trees and we’d light up the world.

Now, two days after the election, I give space for my sadness and deep grief. I think back to the stillness we found on the trail last Sunday. I know I’ll return there this weekend to walk to the top of the mountain, through the enchanted trees, seeking peace and stillness they offer. But today, I’m there in my mind, breathing with trees that remind me that in this moment, I am okay—our country is okay. One breath at a time, we’ll find our way.

I was working downstairs, finishing up painting started before Christmas. I took a break and went upstairs to get water and a snack and saw beautiful, fluffy snowflakes drifting gently to the ground. Finally, it’s snowing.
It was 27 degrees and snowing heavily. I couldn’t see the ridge of the Smoky Mountain National Park or any of the ridges in front of my home. We were in a complete whiteout. The only thing visible was the area around my home.
It was so quiet, especially given the strong winds that blew through after the floods two days ago. Everything stopped and was silent.
Two years ago I was in Ireland enjoying my most favorite place on the planet, besides the Smoky Mountains where I now live. But a lot of stuff…no, a lot of shit…has gone down between those precious days in Ireland and today on the mountain where I live, move and have my being.
Finding balance has been challenging as I feel somewhat stuck in a trauma loop. But the snow, the silence, the softness drew me inward like only the magic of winter can. Suddenly, and without warning, peace unfolded from deep within my core.



















