Paradise Park, Mt. Hood, Oregon
I live on a “dormant” volcano. Lots of people do. I also live in a wildfire danger zone. The news tells me there’s a good chance we’ll have an 8.0 superquake sometime soon. I don’t really listen to that, but when the wildfire smoke rolls in during fire season, I pay attention. Flooding and ice storms can be a problem, and lots of wrecks on the only highway off the mountain (they just removed the safety corridor designation). None of these dangers are that different from most people’s homes on the planet. Much more secure than many, even.
Gnometown on our Christmas tree
There’s just something more visceral about the danger of losing your home and life when you live on a mountain. Truthfully, there’s something more painful about it because the beauty of this mountain life hurts me to my core. In a good way—the kind of pain that is so sweet because you don’t want these moments to pass away forever, even though they will. Forest bathing is for every day here—golden light filtering through the neon green moss on the trees, snow falling and piling up, sitting on the deck in the summer, just being. When we have something we love so much, the hardest thing is to hold it lightly. I don’t want to live in anticipatory grief. I want to live in the precious hygge moments, made more precious because they are fleeting.
These are old ideas, really at the core of human existence. The self-awareness that death and change are inevitable lends a sweet pain to good times and a resigned grief to bad times. This morning as I hygge in the predawn, I feel that twinge of fear, knowing that pain could be around the corner, grief over loss. When something feels so perfect, when I’m mindful of the gifts of my current moment, I’m living fully, even when I’m also scared to lose it. I will not mask that sweet pain today. It’s the essence of gratitude. The Christmas tree lights in the dark living room, the candle flames, a warm cup of tea, my beloved sleeping in the next room, my bestest dogs nearby, my mother in her apartment in town, my best friend in another state, all of my loved ones in this world. They are all here now in this moment, and I am grateful.
My husband on Mt. Hood, Paradise Park, alpenglow on Mt. Jefferson in background