This evening I am without connectivity and perplexed. Instead of practicing mindfulness. I’m wondering how did I ever live without connectivity? How did I get so attached?

MontanaMy husband and I are “glamping” at Under Canvas at the western entrance to Glacier National Park. Sure, it is luxury camping with a king size bed, a wood burning stove, lanterns and the best of all, a bathroom. The only noise a distant highway, a distant plane and a train. An easy space to practice mindfulness.

From the front porch, my view extends fifty miles. #Stillness underlies the reverberations of a truck climbing a hill. The quiet here does not exist in the city, fifth largest in the US, where I reside.


Yes, I am glad to sit here watching the shadows advancing, knowing the big warm fire awaits me. But I am not content. I am used to checking my email, to posting to Facebook and Instagram pictures like the ones I took today of the powerful glaciers melt of the Flathead River,    of the pestering waves of anything but still MacDonald Lake and pictures of my husband and me. I’m used to throwing in my two cents on twitter, adding profundities when they come to mind.

Really, how did this happen? In so few years, I have grown to love, to need and depend upon connectivity.


Could it be a good thing to have to pick up pen and tablet (paper) and write by hand again like I am moved to right now. To recognize how although I daily seek stillness in #guided meditation I am caught off guard by easy and inherent stillness here in my tent. Maybe lack of connectivity increases my awareness of the quiet, the movement of trees, birdsong, even the sound current behind my thoughts. So, I will stop cursing my ineffective cell phone, and iPad and relax and enjoy my stay. I can always go into town another day and touch base with the rest of the world.

For now, it is time to pause, relax and absorb some of the peace and quiet not available to me at home.