This is the first of two catch-up posts I'm doing today before I post my regular "Monday" entry. As I was away on my Groundhog Day Winter Yurt Getaway last week, I missed Thursday & Friday's entries. So here is something for Thursday.
My yurt getaway was amazing. Fantastic. Sublime. Peaceful. Eye-opening. Refreshing. Wonderful.
And at night, a bit scary.
The first night, there was another party across the street and about three yurts further into the lane than I, but though I saw two men outside and was sure I heard at least one woman's voice, I wasn't exactly sure how many were there or who they were. It was dusk before they arrived back at camp, and though I had walked over there earlier in the afternoon to introduce myself before discovering they weren't there, by nightfall I had decided I'd rather just stay in my yurt. Those old fears about being a woman alone somewhere relatively deserted were definitely surfacing. I wondered to myself if it were better or worse to be alone in the woods near some people you don't know, or alone in the woods completely with nobody at all around.
I found out the second night. My yurt neighbours were only there for one night, so by Thursday evening it was just me and the wild turkeys taking up residence in my yurt neighbourhood. (and the squirrels and the chickadees, but that's another story). Which was kind of fine, until I made my last evening run to the washroom around 10pm before retiring for the night. When I opened my yurt door, there was a pickup truck - NOT marked with the Pinery logo - driving slowly along the road, one laneway beyond my road. I won't lie to ya; I wasn't feeling so safe and sound at that point. But holding my lantern I stood tall and marched over to the washroom without hesitation, intending to look brave and confident and with an I-could-give-a-care-that-I'm-alone-in-the-woods-with-a-strange-pickup-truck-circling-my-campsite attitude.
It took me a long time to get to sleep that night, and I tossed and turned fitfully once I did. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the clock hit 6:30am; even though it was still dark out, there's something comforting about the arrival of "morning".
Which makes me think about "courage". A quick Google search on "what is courage" led me to these quotes, the first of which I've heard many times before:
"Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow." ~Dan Rather
"Courage is doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared." ~Edward Vernon Rickenbacker
I sure wasn't feeling very brave that night, but I suppose that just by staying in the yurt and somehow making it through the night, maybe just maybe the title fits. I could have packed up my belongings and headed home. I could have grabbed my toothbrush and gone to stay at a hotel in Grand Bend for the night. I have friends that live there too; I'm sure I could have called them and had yet another safe place to sleep for the night.
The thought did fly through my head, "What are you going to do, pack up and leave?" And immediately I thought back, "Of course I'm not. Get over it." That second voice was only partially convincing; I did follow the advice but I sure wasn't "over it" until I got out of bed the next morning.
But I did stay. Sleepless night or not, I did stay. And of course hindsight is always 20-20; had something bad happened, I would surely have regretted that I'd stayed. But since nothing bad did happen, I surely would have regretted it had I left.
Sometimes you never know how it's going to play out. But if it somehow feels worth it, I say keep playing.