Finding Peace

It's an amazing concept, and a difficult place to achieve. I find that there are times in my life where I feel peace, and I'm not confusing this with contentment. This peace that sometimes settles upon me is much more profound and invigorating than contentment. With contentment, there's the slightest bit of "what if I had.." lurking behind it. This time, I drove to my peace.

The past few days, here in the valley, have been quite mucky. We've had a nasty inversion (for those of you who do not pine away your days watching the weather channel, I'll give you the gist of an inversion). A high pressure front will sometimes move over our state. When this happens, it's like a blockade for everything else, including moisture (that's snow and rain). This front will actually trap in all of the smog and yuck for days, sometimes weeks without any sign of relief. It usually takes another pressure front (low) or a serious storm or wind to push it away. We've been suffering with this one for about two weeks. All the stuff in the air can make you cough something wicked and it keeps the sun at bay, which can aid in the winter blahs. Friday, I'd had enough and had decided that I would drive up into the mountains to get away from it for a bit.

Saturday morning, the babe and I set out for our adventure. We've made this drive plenty of times but, I wanted to make a couple of stops first. I succeeded in getting us very lost in the process, but eventually made my way of Weber canyon. Breathtaking! Every time we make this drive I am amazed at how beautiful it is. Of course, I didn't think to bring my camera but I have taken loads of pictures of it in the past. Anyway, we made our way up and out of all of the smog. The narrow winding road widened to expose a very frozen lake and beautiful snow capped mountains. The babe and I stopped at the end of the canyon and had lunch in an old, rustic log-cabin cafe. A roaring fire awaited, along with wonderful hot, creamy potato soup.

After lunch, we continued our drive to Huntsville, making our way to the monastery. The land was wide and vast, covered in snow and glistening under the bright sun light. It was magnificent. We exited the car and went to the gift shop, just at the opening of the dormitory. Father Patrick greeted us with a smile and allowed us to roam the shop freely. I picked up a St. Francis of Assisi medallion (I am not catholic, but he is the patron saint of animals and I've always felt close to him) and a prayer book for the babe. I also purchased honey that the trappists monks there make. Once we made our purchases, Father Patrick allowed us to visit the church. We entered the cathedral to complete silence. At the back (front) of the building was very crystalline, blue and red stained glass with the image of the virgin Mary and the baby Jesus. Flecks of gold could be seen around their heads in halo form. Just beneath the glass was an alter and to the left and right, folded seats for the choir. Several pews were located on each side of the church, with kneeling benches. Above was a balcony where several folded, wooden chairs were housed. The babe marveled while I took in it's simple beauty. We wandered around for about ten minutes, then left. The perfect ending to a lovely day.

Something settled over my heart while I was there, and it didn't surprise me in the least. There must be an amazing amount of positive energy within and around a place like this, with all the praying that is done on a day-to-day basis. I would guess that the men who live within those walls must be happy in a way that most people have never experienced. I admire their lifestyles, but I don't believe it is something I could ever do. Not because it isn't within me to do it, but because I enjoy mankind too much to be completely separated from it. As crazy as humanity can be, I don't want to be apart from it.

The weekend went well. I showed more control than I've shown over a weekend in a long time. I weighed today and showed a bit of a loss. Tomorrow is my birthday and I am allowing myself to enjoy it, but I will try not to go too overboard. I'm still aiming for complete fabulousness.