
“We can find ways to believe in survival and to live for the children….In our tribal and indigenous cultures, which have endured for thousands of years, every decision must leave no one behind. ‘Progress’ has caused us to miss love and reciprocity… these can be restored through narrative. Can you tell us a story that helps?” Barry Lopez, Portland Festival of Books, 2019
On the very last day of 2019, my husband and I concluded our two-year and three-month grand adventure in central Oregon. We left the delightful, quirky little town on the edge of the wilderness that has been our home, and returned to the place on the Erie Canal in upstate New York where we’d raised our family.
Our plane landed just a few hours before the New Year at Greater Rochester International Airport.
We were sad to leave Sisters, Oregon, but happy to come back to the town we think of as home. In December, I made it my mission to soak up as much Sisters holiday joy and central Oregon natural beauty as I could.

For the winter solstice, we did something special. Dozens of townspeople and visitors gathered in the diminishing light to silently walk the Sisters Community Labyrinth at the edge of the Deschutes National Forest. Each person carried a natural object – the husk of an acorn, a bone fragment, a pine cone – and threw it into a fire that symbolized transformation. Each object represented something the bearer was releasing, or something new arising in the flames.
We walked single file, each walker on his own journey in companionship with other souls on their journeys. We walked with our two sons, my meditation friends from the amazing Sisters Sangha, and many others – members of the community and visitors from afar who came to enjoy Sisters at winter’s portal. This communion is part of the beauty of the labyrinth.


Attending the Portland Festival of Books in November was a meaningful way to conclude my in-person Oregon literary explorations. My husband and I listened to the American author Barry Lopez and the Russian author Anna Badkhen converse about the role of the writer as explorer, seeker, and witness. Both have traveled the world many times over: Anna has written in depth about civilians in war zones, and Barry has reported in award-winning prose on flora, fauna and indigenous cultures across the globe.
They touched on how a writer finds meaning in her work and the moral and ethical responsibilities that come with bearing witness. There wasn’t a single empty seat in the auditorium, and the audience seemed to hang upon every word. I had the sense that we all knew what a privilege it was to hear the words of these great contemporary writers.
Barry Lopez asked this question:
“How are we going to take care of each other?
The storyteller recognizes when there is a disturbance … and has an ethical responsibility to take care of those in a culture living in disarray.”







Coming up on Books Can Save a Life:
Five memoirs by five women with superpowers
Just about the coolest and most uplifting and loving and literary and funny and expansive collection of essays you could ever read, by a beloved Oregon writer
Hi Val,
I’m sorry there was no time to get together before you left for your new home. I will always be thrilled that you “found” me via my blog and an e-mail form! That is the way we dream the internet — full of hopefulness and wonderful new connections and friendships. I’m very pleased that you’re my friend.
Best wishes for 2020 and always.
Katie
Katie, I’m so glad I took that chance and emailed you! I’m pleased we’re friends too, and I look forward to featuring your memoir on this blog in 2020!
Sounds like a great adventure in a beautiful place. I’m not familiar with those two authors, I’ll have to check them out.
Thanks so much Jason! Enjoy!
Val, I’m glad you had that Oregon adventure
And I’m glad you’re home.
I’m glad I had my Oregon adventure visiting you
And I’m glad you’re home.
I love your photos and stories from Oregon
And I’m glad you’re home.
I love my memories of being with you in Oregon
And I’m glad you’re home!
Judy, what a magnificent and clever poem. Thank you!
Happy 2020, and I hope the move back home is everything you envision. The photos of your last few months make for great memories.
Thanks Judy! I remember your words about relocating across the country, back when we were deciding what to do.
You have journeyed afar and back again! I’m so glad you are still blogging.And your photographs capture the season so beautifully. What a thrill to listen to Barry in person. His wisdom is so inspiring. Wishing you all the best back in your new-old home.
Thanks Deborah!
This was lovely. What a magical and moving way to spend the solstice. And how lucky to be in the audience to hear Lopez and Badkehn. Do I understand right that you are no longer living in Oregon?
Yes, we are back “home.” We loved Oregon but it was very expensive, and where we were was quite isolated from family and friends. I am really going miss it!