Going Steady in Alaska
A glimpse into my love affair with time and the Land of the Midnight Sun
Dear Open The Present readers and friends,
My sincere apologies to you for my absence in regular posts these past many weeks.
My word for this summer has become steady.
I smile to myself when I think of this word and play with it. I gaze daily at the steady flow of the river, listen to its steady song. You and I can go steady with ourselves or someone, or on behalf of something—it is that ability to trust self or other, spirit or a place, and even a season or time in life. Steadfastness is a gift, even as we can be nimble and spontaneous.
Do you have a word to embody or describe this season in your life?
I share some steady thoughts on this rainy morning when I am up early and lounging in the great room of my lodge, laptop balanced on crisscrossed legs, with a steaming mug of coffee at my side (yes, these days, I’m indulging in one strong pour-over or french press coffee with caffeine.)
Steady in these longish summer days of running—working—with my lodge business, the River Raven Sanctuary, together with my parent’s properties and running their small RV Park with a cabin, a secret spot on the Kenai River downstream from me, with 12 sites. A lot of hours were invested in staining decks and the gazebo area, shifting from a it’s a guy’s fishing spot to a somewhat artsy freshened up gathering spot that now includes pots of flowers!
Steady as friends visit—oh blessing—and sockeye salmon raise the river levels (IMO, and a question I’ve been asking science-minded friends) with an abundance of wild salmon in this seasons sockeye run, and the dock calls to fish. And then the catch of these salmon feed my soul, spirit, cells, and life.
Steady as my days overflow with must do, can do, to do, no time to do, want to, need to of tasks, lists, tugs, texts.
Steady with my energy, health, fatigue, increased wellness and recovery surviving stress.
Steady listening and befriending the grief, suffering, narcissistic trauma, questioning, despair, and more with friends and people who I love or whose paths cross mine.
Steady as I judge myself for not writing daily or posting here weekly. Gratitude as I write weekly with Shannon and Jane, two amazing wild women writers you can find on Substack, and yes, steady even as I miss connecting with my larger Wednesday writing circle in this time of my living.
Steady as I miss creating and developing opportunities for retreat days, 1-1 soul coaching and companioning, and facilitating groups. That time will come again this fall as the summer season wraps up, and autumn arrives to this northern landscape.
Steady as I lean into the unknown future, and dream about what might become, while living fully in the present, and get my application completed for a master’s and doctorate program that has continued to capture my interest in the next few weeks.
Amidst it all, I like to think—believe—that I do take and make time to notice, appreciate, and play when I can, even as my long-time visiting friends mirror to me the question,
“Do you ever slow down?”
Reality is this time of year, I am in the thick of it. The path is steady.
Still, you and I can open the present of present time, however it is revealed.
Grieving…
In reality, truth be told, with the complicated grief in my life right now—my beloved Dad’s death last summer; Kula my labrador retriever suddenly dying in May; my brother’s brain aneurysm in February (he’s on a miraculous road to recovery! yet not in Alaska this summer with his helping and fun presence and I feel his absence profoundly in my life); relationships ending, beginning, ending; family responsibilities in Alaska after my Dad’s death; concern for our world … it’s a lot. And sometimes I wonder how much more property maintenance I need to learn by experience, then laugh to myself that one day I will write the tongue-in-cheek short story book I’ve titled, In Search of Caulk, a Woman’s Coming of Age Story in Alaska
Plus, no more secrets.
When we don’t talk about things or name them, more dysregulation, codependency, and harm occurs. I’m learning steady healthy boundaries in a new way and trust myself more. Secrets and not speaking truth causes harm and trauma over time. We learn communication patterns in families, become tolerant, and it can take time to trust ourselves and experience, especially when it requires difficult truth be faced and addressed.
I’ve learned time and again that once you finally see something and then can’t not see it, an invitation to change and courage can come to life in action. (I’ll write more about this in the future.) Sometimes this feels like a balance beam walk to me, and there’s a need for steady.
The dance of day-to-day life with the stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—can be exhausting, and the need to retreat and take care of self is even more critical. It’s valuable to recognize that all these emotions and experiences of grief can simultaneously happen at once, or throughout one day, and are part of life.
This is why this summer I’m distilled into frequencies of steady and love. And my 2024 theme, a mighty kindness.
So, again, my apologies extend to you for my absence here. And the practiforgiveness to myself, too.
I pray you and yours are well. I will return to a regular schedule in mid-September, with some new formats, and until then simply share a few photos each week throughout the upcoming steady time as I welcome full lodge groups every week—offering this sanctuary place along the Kenai River to unplug and connect with self and others, anew.
A “steady” summer photo share
L-R, row by row: my first Lake Trout, peony delights, flower power on the deck, the RV park secret spot, Hello Eagle!, Crescent Lake getaway
May the living Force be with you, my friends!
With love and a mighty kindness,
Pegge
Reflect…
🫶 Do you have a word to embody or describe this season in your life?
🩵How do you experience “steady” in the current time of your life?
I love the way you structured this post! I wouldn't have thought of "steady" as a word I needed right now, but I realize I have been calling on it without voicing it. There have been challenging experiences, large and small, teaching me to let go of interferences to love. At one point I felt there were bowling balls coming at me from various directions. And now a period of being somewhat sleepy or lazy even. Quiet. Deadlines met. Not even doing the "work" of meditating or thinking deeply. Just small jobs like changing the batteries that died all at once, or refilling the salt and pepper grinders. Integrating? Throughout it all, the steadiness has come from my habit of paying attention and staying in touch with the Flow's gifts and messages. Thank you for reminding me.