Peace

Sunday morning, I woke up, showered, and drove a couple of minutes over to the 8 a.m. service at All Saints Chapel. It's one of my favorite churches.  It was the last Eucharistic Service of the weekend for the Episcopal Laymen's Conference, which explained why there was a relatively large contingent of churchgoers on a random, late summer Sunday morning, mostly men.  

This conference is a big deal for the Episcopal Church in Tennessee.  The bishops from two of the three dioceses were present.  Phoebe Alison Roaf, the bishop from the West Tennessee Diocese, gave the sermon.  She was tremendous.  As I listened, raptly, to her, I was reminded of recently retired Father Dexter Brewer from Christ the King.  

What I felt as I sat in the beautiful church on this mountain that means so much to me was an overwhelming sense of peace.  For that one hour and change on Sunday morning in mid-August 2025, I was where I was supposed to be.  Where I was meant to be.  It felt right, somehow.  

After church I had breakfast at the Blue Chair.  As I walked in, I immediately noticed things looked different.  I learned that longtime owner Jimmy Wilson had sold majority interest in the Blue Chair to a restaurant owner out of Tullahoma.  I peaked into the bar and saw it has been renovated.  Flat screen televisions are on the walls, now, and an actual long bar has been installed.  Progress, I guess, although I hope nothing is lost when the new owner renovates the restaurant side.

I worked for a while Sunday afternoon, then went for a trail run on the Lake Dimmick Trail.  Every run I get on the trail is special because it's one of my favorite trail runs.  Actually, it's probably my favorite trail run.  Although the temperature was in the low '80's, it was quite humid.  Still, I ran under a canopy of trees the entire way, so it wasn't too bad.  My musical accompaniment was the Drive-by Truckers second to last album, American Band (2016).  Great album.  

After my run, I worked some more, then had a bourbon on the back deck while I read a new book I picked up by Garrison Keillor, Boom Town (2022).  He's amazing, of course, a modern day Mark Twain in so many ways.  Reading about Lake Wobegon, I can almost hear Garrison speaking the words to me, like an extended version of his storytelling in the old day son Prairie Home Companion.  

Later, I picked up diner at Shenanigan's and watched part of Magnolia, on Rachel's (Oglesby) recommendation.  Weird movie, in a Robert Altman kind of way.

Now, I'm finishing my coffee, sitting outside at Stirling's Coffee House, on a wicker couch.  It's the same place I sat on Friday morning, as I wrote in this space.

Four days and nights on the Mountain (one night, technically, in a yurt).  I've never needed it more and I don't think I've ever enjoyed it more.

I worked, read a lot, listen to music, slept in a yurt, saw Drive-by Truckers in a cave, ran, hiked Abbo's Alley, drank an excellent red wine, sipped by favorite bourbon, contemplated life, attended church at All Saints Chapel, watched a movie, ate well and probably too much, saw a lot of deer, and watched a hummingbird on the back deck just a couple of feet away from me.  

Most of all, I unwound, relaxed, and recharged.