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Each Morning, I Head Down a Wooded Path and Find…Refuge

Where’s home for you?

I’m writing this story from the most perfect spot. A small, rustic cabin surrounded by trees and moss and the gentlest wind rustling leaves.

This.

This is home for me.

Since arriving in Nova Scotia last week, Randy, the cats, and I have been settling into new routines…and figuring out how to fit one another.

The main house is lovely and open, with many windows and concrete floors, and soft paper lantern lighting.

My bedroom and bath are there, offering refuge inside the whole.

Randy occupies the main rooms and, not sharing my desperation for solitude and silence, has set up his work and entertainment space on the wooden dining room table.

The kitchen and living areas are there too, all looking out at forests and fields.

Meanwhile, each morning, I take my coffee and laptop to go.

I head out back, down a short wooded path.

To the cabin.

To my cabin.

It is magical.

Internet is sketch still, so I retreat to the main house for Zoom meetings and online yoga class.

But otherwise, I work here, I write here, I bring my meals here on a sky blue tray.

Surrounded by trees, birds, and so much silence.

Surrounded by…Source.

It is…perfect.

Where are you finding home lately? And refuge?

Doesn’t have to be a place.

It’s never really about the place.

I’d love to hear.

Thank you for reading. I’m a doctor of Chinese Medicine and write about sobriety and soulful living. Find all my links here: