ON THE LAKE
FINDING PEACE THROUGH STARGAZING
Posted 01/10/2024
Staring at the sky, laying on my back, flat on the grass. Or the leaves. Or the snow. Or whatever covered the dirt that time of year. This is where I found peace as a child. By myself. With nature.
I thought about heaven, and the angels and God. I thought about what I did right and what I did wrong. I thought about my grandparents and others who died too young. I simply thought. A lot.
While doing so, through the moonlight, I would watch the branches from the old trees dancing slowly in the air. I would listen to the wind whistle its way around the neighborhood homes. And I would smell the recognizable scents of each season.
Wintertime was especially memorable. I would bundle up in my snowsuit, hat, mittens and boots and plop down on the snow in our neighbor’s large backyard. It was close enough to home to hear my mother’s call but far enough to feel like I got away. I enjoyed the cold snowflakes colliding on my face, the brisk air freezing in my nostrils, and, most of all, my mind wandering aimlessly. I didn’t feel the need to be with other people. I appreciated the solitude.
Years later, I hesitantly shared this experience with my friend, Tommy. It was awkward, as most things are with newly teenage boys. He didn’t seem to connect with it like I did. At least I didn’t think so. A few years later, when struggling with some issues, Tommy showed up unannounced at my home and said, “Let’s go lay in the grass.” And we did, mostly to complete silence.
Not too many years later, Tommy died. I struggled greatly in dealing with his death. I couldn’t find peace with it, until I remembered staring at the sky with him. So, as a young man in my twenties, I walked out to the open grass by the apartment where I lived, and I lay on the grass. Flat on my back. Staring at the sky. And, after some time, I smiled.
Today, my joints hurt. My bones ache. I don’t appreciate the cold weather like I used to. As a result, I don’t lie on the ground much anymore. But I do enjoy soaking in the hot tub. When I do, I turn off the jets and stare at the open sky, remembering those peaceful moments of my youth and searching for new ones today.
It’s a humbling experience for me, as it helps me realize how small one person is in this vast world and how today’s problems, however troubling they may be, are miniscule in the big picture. The branches still dance. The wind still whistles. Each season still brings its scent. And my mind still wanders. Aimlessly.
Have a great January, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Lake Panorama Times
515-953-4822, ext. 305
shane@dmcityview.com
Staring at the sky, laying on my back, flat on the grass. Or the leaves. Or the snow. Or whatever covered the dirt that time of year. This is where I found peace as a child. By myself. With nature.
I thought about heaven, and the angels and God. I thought about what I did right and what I did wrong. I thought about my grandparents and others who died too young. I simply thought. A lot.
While doing so, through the moonlight, I would watch the branches from the old trees dancing slowly in the air. I would listen to the wind whistle its way around the neighborhood homes. And I would smell the recognizable scents of each season.
Wintertime was especially memorable. I would bundle up in my snowsuit, hat, mittens and boots and plop down on the snow in our neighbor’s large backyard. It was close enough to home to hear my mother’s call but far enough to feel like I got away. I enjoyed the cold snowflakes colliding on my face, the brisk air freezing in my nostrils, and, most of all, my mind wandering aimlessly. I didn’t feel the need to be with other people. I appreciated the solitude.
Years later, I hesitantly shared this experience with my friend, Tommy. It was awkward, as most things are with newly teenage boys. He didn’t seem to connect with it like I did. At least I didn’t think so. A few years later, when struggling with some issues, Tommy showed up unannounced at my home and said, “Let’s go lay in the grass.” And we did, mostly to complete silence.
Not too many years later, Tommy died. I struggled greatly in dealing with his death. I couldn’t find peace with it, until I remembered staring at the sky with him. So, as a young man in my twenties, I walked out to the open grass by the apartment where I lived, and I lay on the grass. Flat on my back. Staring at the sky. And, after some time, I smiled.
Today, my joints hurt. My bones ache. I don’t appreciate the cold weather like I used to. As a result, I don’t lie on the ground much anymore. But I do enjoy soaking in the hot tub. When I do, I turn off the jets and stare at the open sky, remembering those peaceful moments of my youth and searching for new ones today.
It’s a humbling experience for me, as it helps me realize how small one person is in this vast world and how today’s problems, however troubling they may be, are miniscule in the big picture. The branches still dance. The wind still whistles. Each season still brings its scent. And my mind still wanders. Aimlessly.
Have a great January, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Lake Panorama Times
515-953-4822, ext. 305
shane@dmcityview.com