GRACE

PHOTOS BY PATRICIA, over the meadow

During an illness nothing seems right, not my relationships nor my ability to interact with people with grace and tolerance. An old shrew, or so it seems.

Under that is a broken person unable to trust. How that has interfered with a warm, loving life is inconceivable. Yet there it is.

While so ill, wondering if the severe pain might lead to death because it was that serious, the negatives plagued me unable to retain any good thought.

On my death bed (sorry to sound morbid), I don’t want to lie there thinking of all the bad that I could have done better at. So, things that get in the way of the life preferred, and more importantly of the person I’d be proud to be, need work now.

Though I’ve worked daily, is it enough? Can I do more? Can I take the leap of trusting a bit more, and garnering a little more faith in people? To let the petty stuff slide off, and accept people where are- looking underneath their seeming hurtfulness to understand what may be hurting them?

Grape leaf in early morn…

MAJESTY

PHOTO BY PATRICIA

Sobbing to Samuel, “I fucked up my body.”

“It’s OK. You can go back down,” he responded compassionately.

At a month video check-up with my doctor, the newly added Zoloft was such a success my thought was more is better, so pushed for a higher dose which made me nauseous and shaky.

Sending her an inner office note she responded quite quickly that it was safe to go back down to 25mg, which is good because that was my intention for that evenings dose.

The little tweak of an anti-depressant added to my medications has allowed for a dramatic increase in my ability to sleep.

Unfortunately, being HUMAN, a mistake was made by asking for more. More is not always better. And if kindness were to be extended to myself, is it so wrong to want good sleep? No.

The harshness bestowed on me, by me, is here to stay, along with daily anxiety. And these things will continue to challenge me and need focus daily.

Life isn’t easy for anyone, but with acceptance of its challenges, the beauty can also be enjoyed. And the beauty as spring unfolds is quite stupendous.

My walks to the creek along the large singing pines brings new delights daily. You never know what splendors will come.

One day three pileated woodpeckers swooped onto the dead tree near-by. They are about a foot long.

The shy heron gracefully landed, also near-by unaware of my presence, and looked for her meal in the water as I stared in wonder.

Our muskrat living in the mud-hole along the creek bank swam by. The bluebirds have taken up residence in the birdhouse at the edge of the water, their brilliant blue backs lighting up in the sunlight.

Each walk in the meadow is an exploration.

LOVING SELF-KINDNESS

The beauty of growing inward and learning to love all that is discovered, cherishing even the flaws and quirks, is that my life becomes my own. That living it my way while different from others is OK for me, more than OK, it is my own soul calling offering a freedom unfounded.

So much thought has been put into what others must think, and with my critical loudspeaker it is usually negative. Learning that my life is mine alone, and finite, allows for the freedom to live it in a way that brings all that one could ask for to flourish. But too easily my thoughts get caught up in the tornado of misguided presumptions, and even if true, so what? This is my life.

It is what I feel and think that matters. That would seem easy to figure out, but with a lifetime of being how my mother groomed me to be; nice, pleasing, non-existent really, just a cut-out daughter to meet her own needs, well, that makes finding my authentic self a tangled path, mysterious, often darkly jungled, having to hack away others opinions to swath a path toward the light of my real soul.

But it is there, that center that offers comfort, kindness, and loving acceptance.

AND THE FAIRIES CAME…

PHOTO BY PATRICIA

Waking at dawn as a child with my mother, we peered out the window towards the pond in the field afar.

“See the fairies?” she asked.

There over the pond white wisps of fairies swirled across it as if a ballet were performing.

Right before dawn walking is the most magical time of day, and this morning the colors that appear before the sun are the most vibrant.

Walking the meadow round and round, often stopping to stare at the eastern colors as they deepened, crimson, turquoise, yellows of all shades with the most delicious hues of pinks painted alongside the ever-changing view, my spirit settled into the joy of being alive.

Then the reward of sitting creek-side, and the fairies appeared. Twirling by with their ethereal spins, dancing spritely above the water taking me back to when the fairies first came.

Dancing Fairies (Swedish: Älvalek) is a painting by the Swedish painter August Malmström (1829–1901). The painting depicts fairies dancing above the water, in a moonlit landscape.

A QUIET JOY

Tis glorious to be alive when well rested. The world looks bright, the grass greening daily, the morning birds chirping happily through the open door to the outside.

The bleakness of tiredness washed away with a tiny green pill that is even free. Had I known 15 years ago when sleep deprivation shadowed my days with despair, the last year unbearable. Though a smile was pasted on, many chances of doing the usual fun adventures were cancelled.

But new life breathes back in just as the earth blossoms.  

HAPPY NANA

My birthday weekend came at a time when almost 2 weeks of adequate sleep brought out the real me, a happy that wasn’t forced but natural.

The past several years have been a repeat of one tired day after another, too listless to do much yet trying to keep a brave face along with gratitude during the worst of it.

Yet internally- despair. Hopelessness crawled closer each day as more and more of the dreaded sleep medication was needed to get any sleep at all.

A simple, tiny pill uplifting serotonin levels was all it took to have my life returned to me. The joy shines through sitting by my granddaughter as her kite waved happily in the air with a happy Nana next to her.

MAGICAL

PHOTOS BY YOUNGEST SON, CORY

After a glorious birthday weekend with my son Cory, and granddaughter (7) who live 6 hours away, headed home early this morning.

“Do you miss him?” I asked Samuel.

“No,” he said as we sat by the creek on a brilliantly sunny day.

The scratchiness in my heart isn’t as piercing as it once was, but it is there. It is the heart of a mother.

Magical. Our kites went up without a struggle.

Quinn excitedly said, “I never flew a kite before!”

The trip to the gorge along with my eldest son Shane and his family who live down the road added to the completeness and joy.

No better birthday has been had in my life!

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ONE

Photo by Patricia

One person can change lives. One person can cause destruction, death, and starvation: Putin, Hitler, and the modern-day Voldemort, you know the EX who shall not be named.

And one person can improve millions of lives for the better: Biden, Mother Teresa, Ghandi.

Most of us will not affect millions of lives but can affect just one or more and that gives me comfort wrapped in hope to keep working towards my best self.

The Singing of Pines

Pushing my grumpy self out the door a perfect spring day met me breaking my icy self into wonder.

The grass is greener, the pines sang walking by. Zest for life breathing back into me slowly, thank you nature.

While resting by sparkling water a pair of geese landed with a splash. The beaver swam by. Then the rare sighting of the mohawk headed duck gently gliding onto the water.

Sitting, unmoving, stillness and wildlife brought soothing comfort wrapped with hope that eventually this shroud of depression sloughs completely off.

BE AT PEACE

Just have a quiet day and be OK with it. So used to upset, tiredness, and the buzz of anxiety quietness seems ho-hum.  

Friends keep themselves occupied going to church or being part of groups. That feels overwhelming to me.

My excitement dwells in nature, though she is quiet too right now. But just below the surface the earth is ready to explode in bloom and green.

Chase away daily feelings that haunt with ‘not good enough’ ghosts.  Savor the peaceful lull.   

UPS & DOWNS

The March winds blow.

Tiny daffodils bend their heads in the snow.

Overnight warmth seeps in.

They rise again.

Pondering my life as it was, as it is,

Isn’t it much like the daffodil in snow?

Bended head, then up again.