When you need a shower after four grubby days of squatting in the sage brush for your early morning pee, when you’ve put on the same clothes day after day because mornings are too cold to rummage around for something clean, be grateful for the hose, stretched out in the sun like a sleepy snake, soaking up the day’s warmth and giving it back as hot water. When you’re in the middle of nowhere, a shower from a hose is a miracle of renewal.

After you clean yourself up, stand naked in the middle of the open property which is 1/4 mile from the road. The cars are going too fast to see you, and the neighbors aren’t within shouting distance, so naked feels natural, and you wonder if you lived in this remote place, whether you’d be more naked more often. Or at least become one of those women who walk around without a shirt.

Peek at the headlines, remember there’s a world out there; Kristie Noem standing on a roof top in Portland with a camera crew and lights. Kristie dressed in commando black, staring down at a man in a chicken suit huddled with 8 other people peacefully protesting. You notice they’ve set up reflectors which are meant to make Kristi look more sexy and dangerous as she singlehandedly takes on the chicken man in Portland. 

In more pressing news, your younger child is in a field in Vermont for the summer making large scale flying puppets out of bamboo and willow that are completely enchanting. The magic is palpable as you watch the puppets fly through the air, oblivious to Kristi and other soul crushing headlines. You hope that making and performing puppet shows all summer might inspire your child into a life that might be filled with even more light and magic.

Your ex husband, who you’re staying with in the middle of nowhere, says the most annoying things like, “I don’t do time,” when you remind him that he said he’d give you a ride to Patrick’s house, but now he’s made a different plan without telling you. “I don’t do time,” reminds you too much of your marriage, and you hang on to your ancient anger for too long, gnawing on a mouthful of rocks. Even so, you say yes to the truck ride to the gorge to let the dogs run, and where you’ll see the most beautiful yellowy salmon clouds in the whole wide world. And just as clouds begin to change, so does your annoyance, and you let it go.

That said, he’s right about time, especially out here in the middle of nowhere where the days are bound by the light, and you forget to check your calendar – the thing you live by back home. This week even you drop balls; forgetting a friend’s birthday, trying to calculate what day it is and what you said you’d do in between sitting by the wood burning stove, writing and walking through the sage brush.

There’s a well on the property now, 260 feet below ground, and an outhouse with a compostable toilet where a person can take a proper poop, leaving the outhouse door open to stare at Ute Mountain. Every time you walk in you expect to see a mouse, but you never do. Lots of mouse traps around here, but no sign of the mice. Mark says next year there will be an outdoor shower and a picnic table. We talk about building another cabin for the kids and the grandkids that are still only a dream. He wants it to face Ute mountain, but you want it to face the Sangre de christo mountain range. 

What’s new?

Mark has a new sweetheart 20 miles away in town. He left the property before you woke up this morning to go and see her. You made your way to the outhouse, then to the barn where you lit a fire, turned on the music, and made yourself a cup of coffee. 

A year before your divorce over twelve years ago, Mark asked a seer at Burning Man whether he should leave his wife. “No,” the seer said, “you can’t do that. She’s your rudder and you’re her light.” Which is what Mark told you when he got home, that he wasn’t ready to split up. He always said he’d give it 110%. When we did break up we knew that we each needed to become the thing we were getting from the other. I would need to find my own light, and Mark would need to become his own rudder. Maybe that’s why I was so proud of myself this morning, Mark down the way in Taos, and me here making a morning fire, here in the middle of nowhere.

See how it’s done? This is how you do it. 

Wild Wonder in Oaxaca

Would you like to come to Oaxaca, Mexico with us in 2026? We’ve got a few spaces available.

You’re invited to a one-of-a-kind retreat in the enchanting land of Oaxaca. Step into a world of wonder and embark on a journey of self-discovery amidst a vibrant tapestry of artistry and color.