The Redwood forests are a long way from any and everywhere. Metaphorically they are even father away. I find myself wondering if I should check my email each day, breaking the wall between here and the “real world” is a difficult decision that must be made and remade. I know my visit each year is a temporary thing; whatever I am, it will return when I do. Yet the process surprises me each year.
I wonder what it would be like if this way my identity. Would being part of the generations which live along side the Eel River bring a sense of satisfaction and purpose? I know it would be exclusive, but would it be enough? What if I was part of the larger community of Honey Dew? Would I survive? What would I be like? How would others know me?
It is good to get away, somewhere where people know you for how you want to be known. Actions do not cloud the picture; they are only seeing a snap-shop. Attitudes are not particularly critical; how can you get a clear understanding in a matter of a few days. Even priorities and values are mask by the wonder and awe found all around us.
In the midst of the awesome forest, cold reality of the streets of New York, or even the miles and miles of strip malls, residential housing, and rural villages which rest between, we have an identity which travels with us. Because it takes time to come to the surface, the automatic reaction of masking, guarding, and shaping what others see and understand happens without even thinking. We go into the same mode as Peter found himself in on a dark night.
“Simon Peter was back at the fire, still trying to get warm. The others there said to him, ‘Aren't you one of his [Jesus’] disciples?’
He denied it, ‘Not me.’” (John 18.25)
Do you know your identity? Do others know what it really is (inside instead of the mask)? Divinity has given each a name. Do you know yours?
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