Resting in the middle on a cold winter's night

The wind off the ocean is howling again, and I'm up here once more in Salmon Creek sitting in my big room with all the windows, wondering if I'll ever get warm.  The neighborhood feels quiet and sleepy - is it the post-holiday slump?
Came up to meet with these lovely local builders who are going to help transform my little refuge into more of a complete home - open up the house, make the environment more useful....  And of course I decided to stay over night.  There are golden and rose colored clouds streaking across the horizon as the sun finally goes to bed, and I know I need to go out and get more firewood.  I love this life of simplicity -- of just having to do what is called for, nothing more.  Go get wood, stoke the fire, make the tea, play a little music on the now seriously out of tune piano, etc.   Am not thinking about what I must do tomorrow, or next week, and this is probably good.  There is barely a week left before I head to Venice, and I've been busily trying to prepare my "stuff" for the journey while in SF.  The illusion is that if you make nice neat piles of your things, you will have an easy time of packing and departing.  Where did I get this little story?  Though I adore travel, I always get a little tense or anxious about departing the closer the time comes.  Leaving the nest.  Kind of like saying goodbye...  Now I have two nests I will leave, and in considering that, I am aware of attachment.  Attachment to the nest.  To my routine.  What's at the bottom of this?   Safety??  Peace?  Escape (and if so, from what?)?  What else??
An earnest hardworking congresswoman from Arizona was shot down today in her community while holding a gathering, and she may not survive.  Five or six others shot and killed.  This news was painful to read.  Where are things spinning to in this culture?  The devastation brought about by rage and suffering is SO unsettling -- it feels as though it is BEYOND us, out of our reach, and therefore without resolution or healing.  I was joking this morning when conversing about rampant technology and the surrealism it can perpetrate in the world, wondering what kind of strange world my grandchildren have to look forward to in their adulthood;  but, of course, what is much more disturbing is the wild out of control violence that dances around us everywhere -- in cities, towns, supermarkets, schools....  Can wisdom and energy and compassion be brought to this to help heal the pain, stop the destruction of body and spirit?
When I play Bach or Chopin on my piano, I don't think of these things, but simply sink into the music and follow its intelligence and passion.  This, of course, is a good thing.  We must make beauty in this world no matter what is going on.  But we must also inform ourselves, see our world as it is.  The Buddha pointed the way:  see things AS THEY ARE.  Only then can you participate in change.  So, finding the "middle way" is what's important.... and hold all of it somehow with equanimity.
The dark winter night has settled down upon us, and now we will be headed toward rest, sleep close to the fire glowing in the fireplace -- for it is too cold to sleep in my bedroom.   But first, perhaps, a little supper close by with some happy creative people who work from both the heart and mind.  I must say that I love having people feed me.  I cook for myself as little as possible these days, and it is fine, a large part of my life spent in nourishing other beings.  The freedom of "elder-hood" is wonderful!