The Cry

Nature has always been a central part of my life, from the North Dakota plains, to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. My father tilled the earth for a living; the marrow of the land is in my bones. When I am in need I seek the solace of the soil.

In 1991 I locked the door of my tract home in Highlands Ranch, Colorado. In search of renewal and deep healing I was on my way to spend the summer at a retreat center in the Finger Lakes Region of Upstate New York.

My home for the next two months was in a handsome 19th century farm home with minimal furnishings and glorious space. Surrounded by the magic of wetlands, hardwood and coniferous woods, rolling hills, and an old-fashioned swimming hole I dove into the murky waters of my inner world. For weeks my morning walks with Baron, my four-legged friend, contained my cry, “Where ARE you God?”

Step by step I felt my intuitive, creative energy emerge. I felt connected, even “wild” at times. Early one morning Baron and I sat on top of a grassy hill to rest and contemplate.
I peered into the eyes of my dear companion. Something shifted. Flooded with the power of my own passion and joy I danced my way back to the farmhouse. Once again the sacred nature of the land unlocked the door to the spirit within me. It was time to go home.