Thursday, January 27, 2011

Have you met Miss Jones?


I can't really explain why I have such an affinity for Bridget Jones.

I don't smoke and I hate the taste of vodka. I like to think my streak of bad judgment with men has come to an end.

Still, something about her mildly defeatist personality, the fact that she never has quite the whole story before she takes drastic action, makes me think it could have just as easily been me falling out of a cab onto the street instead of her.   

And honestly, here, thousands of miles from Bridget's London flat, there are still days when I feel like doing this:  



It's not that I'm really all by myself in the cabin. Andy goes work and I do my thing all day: working, blogging, writing. Andy comes home, we tackle dinner and the dishes and more often than not snuggle up for the nightly Netflix. For the most part, I'm a creature of habit and a structured day after day routine suits me just fine.

There also days when the cabin walls seem to be creeping closer and closer together.
  
I remember how much I longed for this during the crazy summer months: the quiet, the solitude. And there's nothing I regret about spending these winter days typing away at the computer, gazing out on a sparkly winterscape, watching the sun rise in muted apricot hues and set in splendid raspberry skies. I'm safe here, in a calm, static nucleus of a crazy colorful world.

While my friends off getting advanced degrees, engagement rings, marriages, babies, houses, I'm just here in the woods with a steady job, no significant travel plans, and a new retirement fund. Things plod along steady like and secure as can be, yet hardly a day goes by when it doesn't feel like I'm missing something. There's deep inconvenience to this life in the woods, one that makes sharing in others' triumphs difficult and distant. There are times when phone calls with friends just don't cut it.  

Each invitation to an event or celebration means juggling schedules, worrying about weather, and pounding hundreds of miles of pavement. There's no popping over to friend's house for happy hour. Even the Thursday trips into town for trivia have become a thing of the past with our increased distance from town.

It's easy to feel left out.


Yet, I remember the words of Nick Drake's song, "Road": You can take a road that takes you to the stars now. I can take a road that'll see me through.

10 comments:

  1. I lived in the mountains of CO for a while and remember feeling this way. Of course, I'm no where being isolated these days and still feel like this some days! LOL I have to say that the blogging community is the one of the only things that makes me feel connected at all. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. I can feel this way and I'm not out in the country. I think i can be a hard balance to find solitude & peace but not feel lonely, especially in the winter!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I feel like you were describing a lot of my thoughts regarding keeping in touch and being alone at the same time. I know there's a balance somewhere, and I have yet to find it. I find myself settling into a similar routine every night, and I'm not out in the country like you are.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You have an easy, natural writing style that I love. I too struggle with the balance of alone time vs: social time. I love the quote at the end, sometimes we have to do what is best for our soul no matter what the cost. Happy writing!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I am glad you are mostly happy with your life. You did remind me of the American Trancendentalists and I saw you mentioned them in your blog summary. Boy, if they thought life was chaotic back then! Thank goodness for the internet when you need to get in touch, at least virtually.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh, how I remember those long winter days in my shack in the woods. The walls certainly do get close at times, don't they?
    You, in your cabin, are writing such wonderful things. Soon, you will be looking out the window and seeing a landscape filled with greenery and new life. Sometimes the best things happen without any real plans.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I've seen some of your other posts and pictures and it sounds like you have a beautiful spot for a cabin. I can understand how you might feel isolated. Good thing for the internet! Thanks for sharing and stopping by my blog.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Sometimes I wish I could get away and go somewhere like that. But then, I can see how it could get lonely.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I understand the vibe you've got going on. I'm single, live in the city, but all my friends have moved away.
    Then sitting in front of a laptop writing... when you start to feel more like you're in the "Shinning" then "Bridget Jones's Diary", then you need to worry.

    ReplyDelete
  10. You're living a transcendentalists dream! I love this:

    "And there's nothing I regret about spending these winter days typing away at the computer, gazing out on a sparkly winterscape, watching the sun rise in muted apricot hues and set in splendid raspberry skies. I'm safe here, in a calm, static nucleus of a crazy colorful world."

    What a beautiful description! I look forward to reading more and seeing life from your view!

    ReplyDelete

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails