Books of 2024

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Photo by Caroline Bowen

It is January, probably my least favorite month of the year, so I set myself to the task of putting away the old year and making plans for the new. Last year was not what I anticipated. It took all year to recover from ankle surgery instead of the quick healing I anticipated. I didn’t travel as much but I enjoyed the few trips I took and found them joyful and healing. But what I did do last year was read and read and read. I needed a lot of time resting with my feet up and this was the best way to pass the time. I had my personal best year at 77 books.  Some were huge tomes, some short middle grade, some wonderful with a permanent place on my shelf and some went straight to the sell pile. This year I kept a list so I can look back on each month so this year I’m going to organize my favorites by month.  Let’s look back and see what I read.

January: This month was heavy on the classics with Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte (love), The Tale of Two Cities by Dickens and East of Eden by Steinbeck.  It was a snowy month and I had lots of time to read Steinbeck and I blew through it in a couple of weeks. My spiritual read for the month was Thomas Merton’s Asian Journals. Insightful and poignant as this journal documented his final trip before his accidental death in Thailand at the end of his journey.  As I read closer to that fateful day I was struck by the fragility of our existence—it was a hard ending to read.

February: This is when I was diagnosed with my pain syndrome (CRPS) so I did a lot of reading on the subject of chronic pain. I read a book by one of my former professors, Keiran Le Grice, The Lion Will Become Man, about his journey through a health crisis as an alchemical process. I also read The Library Book by Susan Orlean about the devastating fire in the main branch of the LA public library. A few weeks later I went and visited this gorgeous Art Deco library. A good read and a pilgrimage.

Los Angeles Public Library, Main Branch

March: Hamilton and I have been reading/listening to classics together so over the winter we read Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, Farewell to Arms by Earnest Hemmingway and The Prince by Machiavelli.  Since I didn’t have a good classics education in the religious school I attended, I’m enjoying catching up on so many great works of literature. Which leads me to….

April:  I did it! I read/listened to Don Quixote by Cervantes. For months (992 pages) I wandered Spain with the beloved Don Q. What a charming character, what an amazing book! Wow. Has this stood the test of time for one of the oldest novels—and it is funny too. The big thing I’ve learned from Ben at the Hardcore Literature Book Club is that translation is everything.  All these years Don Quixote has been given a bad rap for being too hard to read and sounding like the King James Bible when all he needed is a good translator.  Enter Edith Grossman whose modern translation published in 2003 has Don Q’s adventures still fun after 400 years.  Do yourself a favor and listen to the first few hours and see if you don’t fall in love with this book.  It is one of the top novels of all time.

May: I left Spain to enter the land of the Unicorn as I read several books about the unicorn tapestries before my pilgrimage see them at The Cloisters in NYC. I read The Oak King, The Holy King and The Unicorn by John Williamson. This scholarly but readable book got me ready to spend a delightful afternoon with the Unicorn. I can never get enough of unicorn tapestries. While in NYC I went to Strand Books and found one of the best books of the year. Theoretically there are 23 miles of books at Strand Books.  Where do I even start. So I just went to one history section and stood there until I found a book that looked interesting and then left as I was still not able to stand for very long.  My treasure—Marcel’s Letters by Carolyn Porter. Carolyn bought some old French letters at an antique store in Minnesota because she liked the penmanship.  Then she had them translated and that started her odyssey to find Marcel and learn his story of the French resistance in WWII. This true story is a must read.

June: I read three great classics I can’t believe were new reads for me. First was Walden by Henry David Thoreau in a beautifully illustrated edition. Then Hamilton and I read Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope, a very fun story of Victorian manners and power struggles in a small Parish in England. Then I finally read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. Now mind you I knew the story well as I have seen every movie/series adaptation several times. (My favorite is the 1980 version). But the book is much better. What I love about reading the classics rather than just watching the adaptation is I get so much more of the interiority of the characters.  Pride and Prejudice will be on my reread list and Emma is on the TBR for this year.

July: I continued my reading about healing body, mind and spirit.  I read Quantum Mind and Healing by Arnold Mindell and Childhood Disrupted by Donna Nakazwa. Other books I read through the year about healing were The Way Out by Alan Gordon, Unlearn Your Pain by Howard Schubiner, and It Didn’t Start With You by Mark Wolynn.  My personal favorite, The Language of Emotions by Karla McLaren, had been sitting unread on my shelf for over a decade but it was there waiting for me when I was finally ready to take in the information.

August:  Seems I read a lot of modern novels during the summer. I guess I needed some escape reading.  I read Excellent Women by Barbara Pym, delightful and old-fashioned. The Keeper of Lost Things by Ruth Hogan, perfect for a long layover. The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon, a wonderful historical novel set in colonial America.  A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr, a short but beautiful novel about healing after the trauma of war.  Manboy by Vince Vawter, Vince is a neighbor of mine who’s coming of age novel is set in 1968 Memphis, Tennessee the weekend Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated.

September: I had several books that didn’t go well or I didn’t finish so I just went for easy and read Courtiers by Valentine Low about life behind the scene in the British royal family.  I also had a lot of housework after a major ceiling repair, so I listened to 84 Charing Cross by Helene Haniff and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith.  Just the distraction and company I needed while endlessly cleaning, polishing and painting

October, November, December: Ok, I’m starting to wear down from all this reading so let’s speed this up a bit with the best of the best.  Maid, The Hours, The Book of Pearls, The Soul of Money, The Nest, The Picture of Dorian Gray and Before the Coffee Gets Cold—loved them all.  Hamilton and I finished our year of classics with Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy—the writing is mesmerizing.

Hopefully there are a few books that caught your interest. I’m continuing to love reading the classics and have a whole agenda for this year through The Hardcore Literature Book Club.  I continue to enjoy my neighborhood book club which brings me into the world of modern fiction, and I will always have a spiritual book to savor first thing in the morning as the light comes up. 

Family trip to our favorite used bookstore. Setting up our TBR for 2025

Advent

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The season of Advent is the wonderful weeks leading up to the happy day of Christmas, a time of reflection and a celebration of anticipation. I’m always counting down to when I can put up the decorations and start baking and buying the holiday goodies.  I love going to special programs for the season.  This year it is a Celtic Christmas celebration, The Nutcracker and Lessons and Carols at the local Episcopal church. 

But this year I’m finding myself in a reflective mood. It has been a happy year as I am a naturally happy person and the littlest things bring me joy. My great joys this year include seeing a total solar eclipse, soaking up the summer sun, reading lots of good books and time spent with family.  I also have a new kitten, Georgina (Georgie).  She is a darling fluffy tabby Ragdoll and life with Georgie is a never ending game. The older two cats are adjusting and I’ve had the joy of just once having all three on my lap—triple cat-trapped. But double cat-trapped is a daily occurrence as I read and drink my morning coffee.

But it has also been a hard year.  At the beginning of the year I was still struggling to recover from my total ankle replacement a few months before. In February, I was officially diagnosed with a complication from my surgery, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). This is a fairly rare but hard to treat pain syndrome where the nerves signals are not correctly interpreted by the brain. This was not caused by a problem with the surgery but a reaction of my body to the trauma of surgery.  So the journey into the world of chronic pain and the slow recovery began. I’ve had many different types of treatments over the year. Each helping incrementally but nothing quite solving all of the problem.  As the year went along, I was able to increase my stamina and get back to normal life, although with a foot that feels perpetually “asleep”.  I have been worn down by so many appointments, weeks of different treatments.  I’m fortunate that I have a mild case of CRPS that was caught early, for at its worst this syndrome is debilitating with agonizing pain.  I’m on my way to recovery but the experience of chronic pain has left its mark and I may never be fully free, but I’m in a place that is better/tolerable and I’m grateful for that. I’m still glad I did have surgery because despite the complications I can walk and hike again.

I’m also looking ahead to the new year.  I’m taking a break from further treatments for my foot.  I’m ready to have more time and space to do the things I did before my ankle replacement odyssey took over. I haven’t had the mental space to write but just a few blog posts but I plan on doing much more writing in the new year.  I hope to increase my walking/hiking so that I can go on some extended walking trips again. 

We can never know what each new year will bring and 2024 was nothing I expected. I thought I would quickly get back to my old self but life definitely has other fates awaiting me.  I don’t think I would go so far to be grateful for my chronic pain, but it has had a bit of a silver lining and maybe I will get a rainbow in the end—we will see. 

Vision

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Lake Itaska, Minnesota

I was just 5 years old, starting Kindergarten, when I got my first pair of glasses.  Really, I don’t remember life without glasses.  I don’t know how my parents realized I needed glass. Maybe it was a Kindergarten screening or a pediatrician’s visit.   But I do vaguely remember picking out my first pair—blue cat eye. 

My first glasses- 5 years old

It was 1969 and I thought my new glasses were the height of fashion. Every year I chose a new pair.  The next few years my glasses were brown. Then I had a very fashionable wire frame pair in 4th grade.  For several years I was the only one in my class with glasses.  But, every year, as I grew taller my eyes got noticeably worse and by 7th grade my glasses were very thick.

My favorite wire-frames–10-years old

Fortunately by the mid-70’s soft contacts were available and a close family friend fitted my sister and I with our first pair of lenses.  That changed my life.  It took me a long time to get use to putting them in my eyes but I persisted—I wanted to be free of glasses and look like every other teenager.  In those early days of contacts, you got one very expensive pair that you kept for a whole year, careful not to lose one because they were hard to replace.  More horrifying, you boiled your contacts nightly and made your own saline solution with little salt pills dissolved in distilled water.  It all seems unsanitary now but I was grateful to be able to see better in contacts. 

Fast forward almost 50 years and my contacts were still my constant companions.  Fortunately there are disposable contacts and much better and safer solutions but the routine of morning and evening care was part of my daily life.  In the evening, I put on my very thick coke bottle glasses.  I was too embarrassed of them to be seen in public in my very unfashionable glasses—chosen only to accommodate the lenses. My very bad eyesight was a burden I carried.  Even the doctor would comment on how rarely he saw my strong prescription (-13). There was no solution available as I wasn’t a good candidate for Lasik correction. I was just lucky I wore contacts well and in more recent years reading glasses and contacts.  Sniff.. Sniff… Sigh… This was my life forever and ever.  Until it wasn’t…..

In March during a routine eye exam, it was determined I had cataracts that were getting bad enough that I was barely legal to drive.  I was had been noticing a lot of glare but I was use to not seeing so well, that was nothing new. And besides, I thought I was too young to possibly need cataract surgery.  So, off I went to the retina specialist to sign off on surgery and then on to the Ophthalmologist to talk surgery.  I was scheduled for surgery 6 weeks later but then I got a gift I didn’t realize was possible—the surgeon could fix my vision and in a few short weeks I would be free of contacts and thick glasses forever.  I could have cried right then and there.  I had carried this burden for so many years. Really, a burden I didn’t realize I had because there was no solution.   I counted down the days to surgery.

My surgeon did say it would be tricky because of my extreme prescription but he felt he could get me close to 20/20 vision. I had to get the upgraded lenses but that was a small matter to me.  Quickly the first surgery was over and then I had an awkward week with one eye corrected but dilated and one eye with a contact.    I just rested and watched Olympics in my weird vision state and was glad it was a dark and rainy week.   Then the second eye changed everything.  I could see better than I could with contacts.  It was a miracle.   I still need readers, but I ceremoniously threw away my last few contacts, cases, and solutions. I wiped away the last salty mess on the bathroom counter and put my thick glasses in a memory box so that I could always have proof on how bad my vision was for over 55 years.

After a few weeks I stopped reaching for my glasses when I woke up. It took a while to resist the need to take out my now non-existent contacts.  But I’m free of all those old routines.  I still have a dozen reading glasses staged around the house and my vision is still a bit compromised by floaters in my eyes but I can live with all of this now that I’m free from glasses.  It all made me think about the burdens we all carry; physical, mental and emotional.  I didn’t realize how good it would be to lay down one burden.  To have one problem fixed.  I will be forever grateful to modern medicine for my new eyesight, it is truly a miracle to see our beautiful world.

Heat

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This summer has been a hot one on our farm in East Tennessee.  Most of the country experienced a big heat wave the at end of June and the beginning of July. Our “neck of the woods” was no exception.  I watered the flower pots daily and every few days moved around the sprinklers for a deep watering of the flower gardens and newly planted trees.  It isn’t unusual for us to have long hot months with lots of humidity and over the years I got used to it.  The hot humid days make the spring and fall weather even lovelier in contrast.

But this summer we got to really experience the heat as our oldest air-conditioning unit decided to die in the midst of the heat wave—with company in the house.  Ahhh, isn’t that the way it always goes.  This started a long odyssey with the HVAC company and a long wait for we weren’t the only ones who had an untimely demise of their AC. We were fortunate that we had another unit on the main floor that was working so our kitchen and family room were perfectly comfortable.  But as I walked up the stairs to the bedrooms the hot, wet air was pretty intense despite open windows and about a dozen fans continuously blowing.  It was even more curious when I walked downstairs and I would first feel the cool air on my ankles and then slowly up my whole body until I was back in the artificially controlled environment.

We had concerned friends that offered their air-conditioned guest rooms for the three-week wait until a new unit could be installed. But we like our own bed and decided to lean into the experience.  If you remember we live in a very old house, especially for the United States.  Our 1840’s farmhouse was without air-conditioning until the late 1960’s.  Yes, that is over 120 years without the cooling technology that we have all become so dependent upon to the point that we can’t imagine life without it.  So, Hamilton and I decided to live like it was 1845 and sleep with the windows open—although we did have the luxury of fans.  I had a couple of early mornings in the recliner on the cooler floor but otherwise we just adjusted.  I did have to do my upstairs office work, laundry and housework very early in the morning but other than that we were fine. I was grateful we were not experimenting with 1845 laundry and 1845 cooking—that might have been a bridge too far.  And thank goodness no horses were involved with our “throwback” experience.

The old house made the new unit installation a big challenge.  There were modifications to the attic entrance, removal of a storage closet to get the old unit down and several overheated installers. But finally, we were up and running again.  There were more difficulties with the condensation pan leading to a water fountain flowing from the ceiling below and an unexpected attic closet remodel.  Anyone who thinks living in an old house is romantic just needs to experience old house problems to get a clearer picture of the less than romantic challenges. No job is straight forward or easy when working with vintage buildings. I’m always expecting the unexpected for charming comes with problems to be solved.

remodeled attic closet

We are so use to our modern world that the ways of our ancestors seem almost unimaginable.  I often think of the many women who tended my house for the generations before me and wonder what their life was like in this comforting old house.  Occasionally I glimpse at their lives when I clean the old fireplaces and light candles, sleep in the summer heat and feel the winter chill of walls without insulation.  I also like to lean into the uncomfortable and inconvenient to find new gratitude for how comfortable life has become with electricity and hot running water.  I’m not talking about miserable or dangerous but the stepping out of the easy and secure to shake things up a bit and push the edges of life.  So when our modern conveniences fail us—and they inevitable will at times- think of it as a chance to lean into a different time and space and a chance to find gratitude, maybe a bit of space to breath.  You will be fine, I promise.

ceiling repair

Daughters

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This year I don’t have any big or exotic trips planned.  I’m still getting my stamina back after ankle surgery and we have other things around the house that are taking our time and resources. So, instead of a big pilgrimage, I have a few smaller adventures/pilgrimages planned.  The most delightful thing about my travel plans is they are mother/daughter trips,

For Easter weekend, I went back to California to see my younger daughter Alexandra. California was the last trip I took before surgery and the first destination now that I can walk well. After long but eventless flights I arrived at LAX. I never thought I would like Los Angeles but now with a daughter to visit, I have learned to enjoy so many parts of LA.  Each time I visit we plan a new adventure and this time it was tickets to LA Philharmonic for a concert featuring the great conductor Michael Tilson Thomas. Maestro Thomas was a conducting prodigy when I was young and I grew up listening to his many recordings.  Although nearly 80, he conducted Tchaikovsky 4th Symphony from memory. The acoustics in Disney Concert Hall are so good that our seats in the top balcony were just as perfect as any other and let us have a bird’s eye view of the whole orchestra.   The rest of the weekend was just about being together: cooking, visiting a garden, house projects and talking. 

Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles

Just a week after Easter came the great solar eclipse of 2024 and Caroline was not going to let that happen without her.  We hatched a plan to go to the closest totality- in Ohio- with two of her closest friends.  The trip was short but we had so much fun.  We took turns driving the 5 hours north through beautiful Kentucky to Cincinnati and our first big stop. Jungle Jim’s is the largest grocery store in the US and a whopping 200,000 square feet of food and drink. What an adventure it is as kitschy as you would imagine a jungle themed store to be.  The international food section was as large as a regular grocery store.  Three hours later we packed or should I say stuffed our treasured exotic food into the Subaru and headed to the budget motel for the night.

The next day we drove west to the Indiana border to a park where we could picnic and hike while we waited for the eclipse at 3 pm.  The Governor Bebb Preserve had parking, a historic cabin, perfect wildflower trails and most importantly bathrooms.  At the appointed time, the moon covered the sun. The world went an eerie purple-black, the birds and crickets went silent and a magnificent giant circle of light appeared in the sky. The sight brought tears to the eyes of my fellow travelers and I just sat quietly taking it in, making sure that sight was memorized in detail in my heart.  I will be very old the next time there is an eclipse in the continental US and this moment with 1 dear daughter and 2 precious friends in a beautiful park with the heavens in alignment was a day of pure bliss I will always treasure.

But wait there is more.  Alexandra and I had our annual trip to NYC just a few weeks after my 60th birthday. We wanted to celebrate doing what I love best—music, museums and food.  We went to see the Unicorn tapestries at The Cloisters, The Met’s medieval museum high on a hill overlooking the Hudson river.  Alexandra and I have our idea of a “double-header” at Lincoln Center: opera in the afternoon and ballet in the evening with dinner in between.  A second opera on Sunday and a visit to the Egypt section of The Met on Monday completed my arts weekend. My mind and heart were full of beauty.  Alexandra and I already have next year’s arts weekend picked out. 

Alexandra headed back to LA and I took the train up along the Hudson river to see my sister Melissa and brother-in-law in western Massachusetts.  Spring was new and the tidy farmland and old houses were surrounded by lilacs and spring flowers.  For three days we chatted, took walks, played with the new puppy Alice and enjoyed being family.  The last day Melissa and I got day passes to the yoga retreat center Kripalu. I’ve known about it for years and was so happy to see what it was all about. I loved it and can’t wait to go back—it is my world: interesting classes, yoga, a labyrinth and hiking, healthy food all in a beautiful setting looking out at the Berkshire mountains.

These gentle trips with the people I love have been just to healing I needed this year.  As I slowly heal my ankle, I’m healing my heart and feeding my soul with beauty and love, nature and art.

Books of 2023

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Well, I’m snowed in.  Tennessee had an epic snowstorm followed by extremely cold weather. Our 8 inches of snow will linger for a few days so I have nothing better to do than read books, write about books, sort books and dust books. A perfectly delightful way to spend a cold winter day in my opinion.  2023 was a good reading year at over 50 books reading and listening, sometimes both at the same time.  Cold winter days, hot summer days by the pool and long surgery recovery in my recliner days gave me lots of time to read and now I’m happily sorting these wonderful books into categories.

Category One is re-reads.  I’m not normally a re-reader but I did re-enjoy several books this year. I re-read a lot in my childhood and a soothing book is so fun to revisit.  It brings back memories of the first read—the time and space the book enjoyed the first time that allowed it to be re-loved a second time and make a new memory and emotion.   The Mystery of the White Lion by Linda Tucker was now re-read in context in South Africa. What the Psychic Told the Pilgrim by Jane Christmas is a Camino pilgrimage book I re-read with friends who also dream of walking the Camino. A Gift from Brittany by Marjorie Price was a comfort read many years ago and now it was a delight and a reflection on some tough times that have long since passed.  The Shelf: Adventures in Extreme Reading by Phyllis Rose now reflects my own quest for extreme reading experiences.

Speaking of extreme reading, just as I promised myself last January, I read James Joyce’s Ulysses. Yes, I summited my own personal reading Everest. Ulysses is not everyone’s quest, nor should it be, but it was mine, all 933 pages of stream-of-consciousness prose.  Everyday for a couple of months I would listen/read for 30 minutes and that was about all I could take.  I listened to the lectures for some much-needed help and kept going until one fine spring day I finally finished.  I’m glad I made it through, and I see why it is so important in the development of modern literature.  Time will tell if I get called back to James Joyce but, in the meantime, I am savoring my armchair triumph.  I’m keeping my copy as a trophy.

Continuing my literature quest for the year, I read some of the most delightful books of my life.  Don’t be intimidated by these classics–they are famous for a reason.  After Ulysses I read Virginia Woolf: Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando and A Room of One’s Own. I also read some of Virginia’s biography by Hermione Lee.  On our trip to Canada, Hamilton and I listened/read Moby Dick by Herman Melville.  I didn’t really have preconceived ideas but didn’t think a whaling novel would be my thing.  Ohhh was I wrong.  Some of the most beautiful and insightful writing in the English language.  If you want a very rewarding reading challenge read/listen to Moby Dick.  I only had a vague idea of the ending, so I relished the last page of this epic novel.  Middlemarch by George Eliot was what first inspired me to take a deep dive into classic literature and the two months I spent in a recliner gave me the time and space to savor this glorious 688-page/36-hour novel.  My final great book of 2023 was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. I read it over 30 years ago and loved it and I loved it even more in the re-read and will be on my re-read list for many decades. What a beautiful and very readable book. In 2024 I’m going to keep on my literature quest with Ben at The Hardcore Literature Book Club. I’m very excited about this year’s book schedule.

completed books

In the spiritual category I read about nine books.  My favorites were Advice Not Given by Mark Epstein, The Endless Practice by Mark Nepo and A Year in the Woods by Torbjorn Ekelund —which is more of a nature book but nature and spirituality cannot be separated in my life. I also enjoyed Walking a Literary Labyrinth: A Spirituality of Reading by Nancy Malone.

Now, for the final non-fiction category. Mapping the Darkness by Kenneth Miller is about the history of the science of sleep which is a very late development in our medical knowledge.  I was particularly interested in this book because my father took part in these early sleep studies at the University of Chicago in the 1950’s- he would have personally known the researchers in the book.  Reading this book was like a little glimpse into his past and I felt comforted by knowing a bit more about this part of his life.  I did a deep dive into opera and particularly modern opera with The Impossible Art by Matthew Aucoin—remember I had nothing to do for over two months and my mind needed lots of attention.   I also liked Selfie: How the West became Self-obsessed by Will Storr and Strangers in Paradise by James Grubman.

Some of the books of 2023 are going on the library shelves, some are getting sold to pay for new books and a few prized books get their own special place in my heart.  I’ve started my new pile TBR (to be read) for 2024.  I usually keep 3-4 going at all times for any mood or concentration level.  I have a growing pile of literature, spirituality, light novels and non-fiction waiting to take me into new worlds..

2024 TBR pile

Labyrinth

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My labyrinth and deer friend

I’ve been wanting a labyrinth on the farm for as long as I have lived here, almost 11 years now.  Circumstances were just not right until just last month.  Labyrinths have been used for millennia for meditation, an internal pilgrimage to the heart and then back out into the world. The circular pathway leads in and out, back and forth until the center, the core of the journey, is reached.  Then the process reverses until the pilgrim comes to the beginning and back out to everyday life renewed from this gentle process.  Over the years I have walked many labyrinths and find them peaceful, joyful and always a respite from the busy and noisy world. 

The wait for my labyrinth was long but the timing could not have been more perfect.  Finally, I felt I settled on the location and position.  I knew I wanted a modest size, just 7 courses.  As we laid out the labyrinth, the final pattern became clear and just right for my land.  Over the next few days my friends Mike and Rob cut into the sod and laid old brick flush into the land. Under the center bricks I laid the sand and rocks I’ve collected from my many journeys around the world to bring my experiences and dedication to the pilgrim life to the land where I live.  You can’t see the labyrinth until you are right on it, making it a secret space in the open grass.  In the spring I’m planting a little mediation garden with a bench to rest or just contemplate this sacred space.

Labyrinths are pilgrimages, not to far off places, but to the heart of the matter right where you are. And a labyrinth has certainly been a symbol of my life for the last few months, as I have been on a long journey and never left my house—never left my chair.  In September I had a total ankle replacement so I could walk again without pain.  I had injured my left ankle many times over many years and the joint was damaged beyond repair.  I knew I had a bad ankle but I didn’t realize how bad.  Ankles require a long healing time so I scheduled surgery for after the summer and travel but with the hope I would be better for the holidays.

My view for months

The surgery went well and my ankle was finally straight. But then began the long process of healing.  I moved a bed downstairs, purchased a knee scooter, brought in a recliner and had a pile of books ready to read.  I had a cast for three weeks and was unable to do anything during that time.  I was in my chair all day reading, watching YouTube and sleeping.  It was a miserable time. Fortunately, I had a village.  Hamilton took care of me at night and slept on the couch nearby. Caroline ran errands. Our dear friend Maddie took care of the pets and the house. My beloved community of friends brought food for the first four weeks.  I so appreciated everyone’s kindness, flowers, food, conversations…I needed every bit of it to bolster my spirits so I could heal.

Flowers from my aunts

After what seemed an endless three weeks, I got a boot and was able to move around a little more but unfortunately developed a lot of nerve pain and an incision wound which slowed my progress.  Gradually I got better and was able to start physical therapy three days a week. I was desperate to walk again and would have done anything to get there. I was still hobbling in a boot when the labyrinth was laid out. But as the bricks were laid in the ground, I was able to graduate to shoes and walk just a bit on my own. Every step was painful but I was moving forward.  My labyrinth laid unwalked for several more weeks until I could walk with more confidence and less pain.  It was waiting for me and I was so happy to take that pilgrimage.  After two months in a chair, walking that labyrinth in my own garden was as great a pilgrimage as if I had crossed the ocean to a foreign land.  I stood in the center, grateful to walk, grateful that I could have a new ankle, grateful that so much pain was behind me.

I still have a long time to heal.  I can’t walk very far or stand for a long time but I am back to most of my activities as long as I have time to rest with my feet up and a cat on my lap.  How did I fill those long hours in a chair?  Lots of YouTube, lots of reading. I read the great classic by George Eliot, Middlemarch, where I traveled to Victorian England and made new friends with the people of the village of Middlemarch.  I spent many hours watching the operas recommended in Matthew Aucoin’s book on The Impossible Art.  I slept a lot—I was worn out from pain.

It has been a long journey but I have learned a lot from this experience.  I have even greater empathy for people in chronic pain and limited mobility—I knew I would heal but so many don’t have that hope. I’m forever grateful for modern medicine that has made such amazing advances in care that I won’t be hobbling the rest of my life but soon back on the hiking trails I love. I plan on being more attentive to family and friends going through physical and emotional trials; food, flowers, and attention made an enormous difference.  Life is a complex journey and so is a labyrinth. The twists and turns ultimately become our life story and part of our very being but with courage we continue to walk forward everyday.

8 weeks of physical therapy completed

Mount Fuji

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Guest Post by Melissa Smith

We started climbing at 4 am. For the first hour or so, headlights illuminated our path and the Moon and Venus hung close overhead. The twinkling lights of civilization lay far below. Fourteen adventurers, far from home and all of us out of our comfort zones, labored up the lava encrusted trail, our breathing loud and heavy from high altitude and hard physical effort.

This trip to Japan was four years in the making. We began our planning in late 2019 for a September 2020 climb. Deposits to the guide company where sent and eager anticipation filled the communication amongst our climbing group.

Then COVID hit and plans had to be put up high on a shelf. Everyday life had quickly devolved into hunkered down survival mode and such a trip was well outside of the realm of possibility for who knew how long. Finally, in November of 2022, we dared to resurrect our plans and allowed ourselves to dream, once again, of commencing this grand adventure.

Our climbing group swelled in number. First, there was our core group; me, my eldest daughter, Anne, my cousin Abigail, and her husband Fred. We were an experienced crew, having summitted Mount Kilimanjaro together a few years prior. Newcomers to the group were my younger daughter, Jane, and my stepdaughter, Hannah, who were new to adventure travel. My cousin Mary, an experienced hiker, and her daughter, Georgia, rounded out the family component of eight members strong. Four members of Mary’s hiking group from Northern California and two young daughters of one of the members brought us to a total of 14 climbers. Note, that was 13 women and 1 man. Also worth noting is the age range ran from 19 years old to 63 years of age. And then there were the myriad of relationships: mothers and daughters, husband and wife, cousins, sisters, and friends.

It’s no small feat for a group of this size to travel to Japan and all meet at the Shin-Fuji train station within 10 minutes of each other. The thrill of finally uniting and beginning this adventure was evident in the big hugs and warm greetings that we all had for each other.

Our climb began the next day when we visited glorious waterfalls at the base of the mountain and then drove to the fifth station, where the four trails up the mountain originate. The route chosen by our guide was Fujinomiya. Our goal that day was to get to the sixth station (the tenth station is the summit), where we would spend the night in a hut and begin our ascent in earnest the next day. Our trek to the sixth station wound through a lush forest and took us to a crater from an ancient eruption. Spirits were high and even a heavy downpour that swooped in as we quickly made our way to the hut only added to the sense of adventure.

This hut was our only sleeping option because we chose to climb just out of season, which allowed us to avoid crowded conditions. The huts at stations seven, eight, and nine were closed for the season. The sixth station hut could only be described as rudimentary and the bathrooms were toilets over open sewage pits. We were assigned our sleeping quarters so we could deposit our packs and settle in. These rooms had curtains for walls and cloth mats on the floor. Anne, Jane, Hannah, and I chose our sleeping spots and then made our way down for an early dinner.

We sat cross-legged at low tables and ate our meal of rice and curry. The local Japanese hosts were friendly and accommodating and seemed happy to quarter this large group of off-season climbers. With a 3 am wakeup call looming, we all headed to our cubbies for an early bedtime. Now, one of the unwritten rules of adventure travel is “no complaining.” And our group followed that rule beautifully! The challenges of sleeping on the floor cheek to jowl, smelly toilets, a 13-hour time change, and middle of the night reveille were met with good cheer and a sense of adventure.

By 4 am the next morning, we were up, dressed in our hiking layers, and had eaten our cold breakfast of rice and curry. Each of us will forever remember the sparkling lights below, the dark early morning sky, and the excitement we felt to finally begin our ascent of this iconic, sacred, volcanic mountain. Mixed in with the excitement was nervousness and even fear. Did each of us have the physical and mental stamina to summit this mountain? There was only one way to find out and that was to strap on our headlamps, grab our hiking poles, and get started.

The path was fairly easy at first and this helped us find our pace and shake off some of the nerves. By 5:30 am the sun rose, and we could clearly see the mountain rising sharply above us. As we pressed upward, small groups ebbed and flowed, talking with and encouraging one another. The younger members delighted the older with their energy and enthusiasm. The older members inspired the younger with their fortitude and commitment.

The guide stopped us at regular intervals to drink water, eat a snack, and catch our breath. Those breaks allowed us to survey our surroundings, savor the view, and gather our courage to push on until the next break. After about five hours of arduous climbing, the summit still seemed a distant quest. There was a point when I wondered to myself, “Am I going to be able to do this?” And yet I knew that unless altitude sickness overtook me, I was going to put one foot in front of the other until I reached the summit. This was when focus and mental toughness were most needed. And the support of the group. We all knew that, together, we had the resolve and grit to tough out the last couple of hours and make it to the top of Mount Fuji.

About 11:15 that morning, I reach the summit of 12,388 feet. It was a stark and sobering sight peering into the volcano crater and seeing the ancient lava formations, but the feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming and the view from above the clouds was spectacular. There were many hugs and photos and exclamations of delight as the group assembled at the top. We didn’t linger long because weather can change quickly on Mount Fuji and we still had to make it back down. About three hours later, we were climbing into the transport van, exhausted yet exhilarated and grateful that no one was injured or became ill, and all were safely down the mountain.

The next morning, we gathered one final time for breakfast and celebratory conversation because the group was heading in different directions. Some to other parts of Japan, others back to their homes.

In the months since this adventure, I have pondered what lessons I learned about myself and life during this experience and here they are: things don’t always happen in your desired time frame, fear is part of the journey, careful planning  and preparation smooth the path, mental toughness is a critical component, each member of the group contributes in a unique and important way, persistence is vital, and if you can fly to the other side of the Earth and summit an active volcano, there’s not much you can’t accomplish in your life.

I know this was a life changing experience for all the young people in the group and I am thrilled that they can carry these lessons with them and use them to inform their decisions for the rest of their lives. For the more mature members of the group, it was also a life changing experience because we proved to ourselves how much life and living we still have in us and that we continue to be up for big challenges. And now, to begin planning our next adventure travel!

Author’s note: Thank you to my dear sister, Evans Bowen, for inviting me to be a guest contributor to her inspiring blog. Evans wasn’t available to join us for this adventure, but we shared an amazing trek through the Andes Mountains to Machu Picchu in 2016 and have plans for more adventure travel together in the future. Melissa Smith

Cousins.

Hearst Castle

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In 2020 I had this lovely trip planned. My family and I were going up the coast of California.  First stop was my graduation in Santa Barbara for my master’s degree, then Hearst Castle and on up Highway 1 to San Francisco.  No surprise that it got cancelled in the epic first months of the pandemic. I still wanted to visit some of those places, especially Hearst Castle in San Simeon, 250 miles north of Los Angeles.  So, for my final trip of 2023, Alexandra and I made our plans to visit Hearst Castle.

Every Friday in the summer Alexandra participates in a group ocean-swim near the Santa Monica pier.  It is well organized with lifeguards and buoys for safety.  I went along, not to swim in that 65 degree water (no thank-you) but to see what it is all about and enjoy the early morning sun and the setting supermoon of August.  Around two hundred brave and fit swimmers plunge in for a brisk swim between buoys. From the comfort of a bench, it looked like a giant shoal of fish.  About thirty minutes later the swimmers started to head up the beach for coffee and donuts before going off to work.  It was a fun way to start the day and Alexandra loves the challenge of a cold, Pacific swim.

After some breakfast, we packed the Subaru and headed up the coast through Malibu and on to Santa Barbara.  It made me a bit wistful to pass the exit to my school as happy memories of my two years of study came flooding back. I so wished that I had been able to enjoy a grand ending to such a happy time but I cherish the memories and knowledge and the dear friends from my time at Pacifica Graduate Institute.

Our first stop was Solvang, a charming town founded by Danish farmers that has retained its old-world theme with Danish architecture, food and shops. Well…maybe a bit too themed… as it bordered on kitschy.   It didn’t take long to feel we were “complete in our experience” and headed the rest of the way up to Cambria for the night.  The drive was beautiful and we enjoyed each other’s company so the time passed quickly.

The Blue Dolphin Inn (Cambria, California) was beyond our expectations. We were so happy to be there early for a nice nap and then a walk along the rocky seacoast.  A gentle board walk meandered above the beach where large driftwood logs were made into giant shelters and tepee-style forms.  If I’m at the ocean than I want to eat seafood. Just a few hundred feet from our hotel was a lovely restaurant with good fish tacos and a beautiful view.  We happily wandered back to our room for an early night.

My favorite thing in the world is waking up, getting a cup of coffee and sitting by the ocean in the early morning light—it doesn’t get better than that.  Our breakfast was delivered to our room early and we quickly packed up for we had early morning tickets to tour Hearst Castle.   Several months ago I purchased tickets for the first tour of the day of the main house and tickets to see the bedrooms on the second floor. 

Hearst Castle is the lavish home of William Randolph Hearst (1863-1951) a mega-wealthy newspaper mogul in the early 1900’s and the early days of Hollywood.  After his controlling mother died, he began to build his dream mansion designed by Julia Morgan, one of the first female architects in California and a talented designer and building engineer.   The family owned a ranch and there he chose a site up on a hill overlooking the Pacific.  The project grew in scope and would change regularly but the final product is a collection of buildings and swimming pools with stunning views.  WR, as he was known, loved European decorative arts and filled every possible space with museum quality woodwork, ceilings, furniture, tapestries and art—all 42 bedrooms and 19 sitting rooms including a cinema.  WR and his charming mistress Marion Davies, had special railroad cars to transport their famous friends to the mansion in style.  But the gardens—the 127 acres around the mansion– are exquisite with both an indoor and outdoor pool.  Now I’m a pool person and the Neptune pool has to be one of the most beautiful in the world.  He even had four ancient statues of Sekhmet, the Egyptian lion-headed goddess, guarding the entrance to the mansion.  Everything was opulent, detailed and brimming with the ghosts of the most glamourous people of the day.   I loved it. I loved every minute of our tour and I definitely want to return.  I’ve been to the east coast equivalent, Biltmore Mansion, many times but I like Hearst Castle even better. 

After our tour, Alexandra and I drove up the coast a few miles to see the elephant seal enclave. Since 1990, these mammoth seals have a breeding ground on this patch of coast.  Such unique looking animals with the big snouts and bodies not meant for sand.  This was the end of the road for beautiful Highway 1 for the time being as a big part of the road is washed out. So we headed back to LA with a book store/dinner stop in Santa Barbara and a final stop to see the sunset over the Malibu beach before arriving at Alexandra’s apartment in Santa Monica. What a perfect day.

In the early 1970’s my in-laws went to an auction that reportedly was the estate of WR’s long-time mistress, the actress Marion Davies’ Florida home.  At the time they were furnishing the house and frequented auctions in Atlanta.  I still have the listing for the auction with Marion Davies’ picture on the front.  They did buy a few things, and the one thing I can identify are some vases that are cranberry glass and gold—very pretty and very ornate.  Were they Marion’s? I can’t be sure, but it is a fun tale to tell and I like the idea that I might have something of the Hollywood power couple of the 1930’s and a small connection to the magnificent Hearst Castle.

Nova Scotia

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Every year Caroline attends a conference for math and art called Bridges and it is the highlight of her year.  This year Halifax, Nova Scotia hosted the event, a place Hamilton and I had on our travel wish list.  Since she always creates a new sculpture to show in the gallery of the conference, we offered to drive it to Halifax so she could make anything she wanted as long as it fit in the back of the Subaru.  Caroline started creating and I started planning—we were both in our happy places.

It is a very, very long drive to Halifax from Tennessee (1700 miles) so we made plans to enjoy the journey and stop along the way.  As always I enjoy the beautiful scenery up the eastern United States but on this trip, I wanted to make some literary pilgrimages.

My sister lives in western Massachusetts and we stopped by for a few days to enjoy her lake home and culture of the area.  We went to Tanglewood, the Boston Symphony’s famed summer open air venue. The evening was picture perfect as we listened to a Mozart piano concerto in the fading light. After the intermission the stars came out and Mozart’s Jupiter symphony enveloped us in the darkness.    

In near-by Lenox, Massachusetts, is the home of Edith Warton, the first woman to win the Pulitzer-Prize in fiction for The Age of Innocence. Before becoming a world-famous novelist, she wrote books about gardens, architecture and interior design.  Edith had a passion for beautiful homes and built a large summer home in 1903 called The Mount that reflected her love of balance and symmetry in architecture.  Well, you know how I love homes and especially homes that inspire great literature.  Our tour guide, Madison, took us around this remarkable home that became a girl’s school and was abandoned until it was restored around 25 years ago to memorialize Edith’s talent and vision.  Later in life Edith lived in Europe and became a correspondent and humanitarian in the first World War.   It was a magical visit and I came away inspired by Edith’s remarkable and varied life.

A few days later we took the ferry across the Bay of Fundy from New Brunswick to Nova Scotia and visited the historic town of Lunenburg and the picturesque Peggy’s Cove lighthouse then headed to Halifax where we met up with Caroline and friend Maddie who flew up that morning.  Over the next couple of days, we enjoyed the Halifax wharf and maritime museum, ate seafood, set up Caroline’s sculpture in the gallery and relaxed from our long drive.

Caroline and Maddie stayed on in Halifax to attend the conference and Hamilton and I set out to explore more of the provinces.  Like many young girls I fell in love with Prince Edward Island as the land of enchantment in the Anne of Green Gables novels by Lucy Montgomery.  So our next literary stop was Cavendish, PEI, and the actual home that inspired Green Gables. The heroine of the books, Anne, was a dreamy, idealistic girl who loved beauty and nature and was grateful to be adopted and finally have a real home, Green Gables.  The home belonged to Lucy’s cousin and is now restored and furnished as it would have been at the turn of the last century.  I could see Anne in every room and the gardens and down Lover’s Lane and by the Lake of Shining Waters. I was a little girl again living my beloved book.

We found the rest of Prince Edward Island equally delightful with pristine farms, potato fields in full bloom and rocky shores.  We spent the night in an old convent that is now a luxury hotel in the capital city of Charlottetown. A seafood diner and ice cream on the wharf at sunset brought this day on the enchanted island to a perfect happy ending. 

The next day we took an early morning ferry across the foggy St. Lawrence Bay back to Nova Scotia. After getting gas and groceries we headed up to the top of Cape Breton Island on the famed Cabot Trail, a beautiful 180 mile drive around the coast line of the island. We took our time and stopped to see the rocky coast at the overlooks and spent two nights at the top of the island just relaxing and enjoy some quiet time where the St Lawrence Bay meets the Atlantic Ocean. We felt like we were at the top of the world and alone with the haunting sounds of the loons on the bay.  On our way back to Halifax we made our next literary stop, Gampo Abbey, the home of the Buddhist nun and author Pema Chodron.  We didn’t have time to go to the abbey but at the first overlook I spent some time looking at the isolated land and shore of the abbey grounds.  This rugged coast is Pema’s refuge from the world that allows her work to blossom and feed the souls of those of us who read her wise words. Some of her best-known works are When Things Fall Apart and The Wisdom of No Escape. 

We arrived in Halifax long enough to pack up the sculpture and then headed down the long road back to Tennessee. We broke up the trip coming home with stops in Maine and New Hampshire to see friends and then the final long drive home. But on those long driving days we had company: great literary company, for the entire drive Hamilton and I listened to one of the great books of American literature, Moby Dick by Herman Melville. I’ve been on a literary quest this last year and Moby Dick was the perfect shared literary experience for the two of us.  We chose a wonderful narrator on Audible, William Hootkins, and I read along in the book when I wasn’t driving.  We were so close to finishing this 26-hour epic by the time we got home and have finished bit by bit in the evenings.  The writing is spectacular and the insight into sea-faring life in the 1800’s are very compelling and helped the long road go by as we were busy living life on the open ocean with Captain Ahab and his crew.

It was an epic two-week trip of 4400 miles, 10 states, 3 provinces and 345 pages of Moby Dick, and we loved it all.  But I think about the literary stops, the beautiful writing, the insights into the human heart and soul from Edith and Lucy, Pema and Herman. Such a diverse group of writers, but writers that each had a unique voice and perspective that expands my inner worlds as I explore the outer worlds. For me that is exactly the companions I want on my pilgrim’s journey.