RAGE

Something trivial, seemingly innocuous occurs of Samuel’s doing and my entire body is in upheaval. Walking the meadow, can the neighbors hear the string of vile curses, the hatred, spewing out of me? A walk to unwind, untangle the rage woken from long past. Praying to heal what lie beneath the rage. What is it?

It can’t be a simple occurrence that set me off. It makes no sense. It must be something deeper. What he did is reminiscent of Chet and Tom, both at separate times stealing my pony, the other my horse, without my permission. Both laughing about it, even my mother laughing when Tom was bucked off. My sweet horse bucking? Lobo, not once ever, bucked with me, which made me realize how cruel he must have been with her.

Disrespect, not being heard, not mattering, invisible, requests, needs, desires, basic rights going unnoticed, not listened to…. freedom, taking what little bit of joy there was, or is. Theft out of selfishness. 

Old feelings rise up choking me with rage. Meditation, and walking didn’t ease the violence construed inside me. I wanted to hurt back, choke to death the ones who took everything I had, my body, my life, my dearly beloved horse, and my mother who thought it was funny. They took her too.

Alone.

Alone with old rage able to fume out of seemingly nowhere and choke me dead. Dead but so alive; it took a whopping dose of xanax to fall asleep finally at 3 am.

The ghosts of the past will forever haunt me.

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DEEP PEACE

Since middle school, or even before, it was others who I longed to be. Looking at another girl my age, how calm she seemed, how centered, or earning an award over my efforts, made me yearn to be her. The peace inside, the naturalness, acceptance.

Now, as I look around at others, (when my state is peaceful) I don’t want to be them, there is peace and comfort inside me. That may change in the next 5 minutes.

But there has been a lull. Sleeping comes in adequate amounts. Days are summery, productive, and when not, the harsh critic can be mostly silenced with, “It’s OK for down time, time enjoyed is not time wasted.”

Doing what is healthy for mind, body and soul are daily goals, not all met on every day, but the attempt is made. And taking out the critic who lashes at what wasn’t done is part of the job.

Acting in ways to others that is in alignment with my beliefs and principles, despite how they may have acted towards me, is satisfying also providing peace. All is right with the world, even when so much is not. Because inside commitments have been made and stuck to.

I have done my part. Yes, you do deserve good things. You do deserve peace in your soul, heart, body and mind.

COMING HOME

It is easy to become lost, out of my body wandering away from feelings, or being in the present moment connected to whatever it is that is being run from. Then ‘home’ again, starting a new day after the wanderings only led to being more lost, and coming home to all the quandary of emotions, facing what is there, welcoming it; fear, the aloneness, more fear, the abject refusal to be me. But I am me, there is no running from it.

The need is to keep working at it, like chiseling a granite statue, finding the beauty underneath, sifting through memories like hard chunks of rock to the magnificence below. Warming once again in the center of me, the magnificence above and around becomes heightened and cherished, where both pain and pleasure find a place to be both at once.  

It is not about how much one has, but how much one is accepting of oneself, opening to what is. And every day there is running, having to come back home over and over, to the place inside always running from. Come back home and accept what is. The more I get to know what is there, the more comfortable a place it is, and the more it is trusted.

Running is abandonment. Coming home is warm, safe, and whole, opening up the inner and outer worlds, expansion. The red hue of morning burns brighter, the bird songs  sweeter, the body carrying the inside being craves better treatment, not as a means of escape. Feelings are OK, all of them in wholeness when coming ‘home.’

 

TRAVELS

The lonely theme, or ‘left out’ feeling so entrenched into my being is questioned then explained. It is no wonder that feeling crops up time after time, even when what lies beneath is peace and ease at how things are now.

With 8 kids and two parents busy with so many, the feeling of lack runs through me. Not lack of basic needs, but emotional ones. Adding to that the badness that grew inside my being from the sexual attacks after Dad’s death, the abandonment of death added to the list of traumas.

What is most needed now, is what I can give to the little girl abandoned. What the adult me can do. When these themes run through me it is time to be gentle, loving and kind. Not thwart the goodness but dissolve into it like falling onto a cloud.

Each piece can be extracted and studied, the losses, one by one. There were many. Though others may not appreciate my worth, because looking from the outside you cannot see, I know, and I can.

As the day opens with the red-gold sun pouring over the far trees as misty fog swirls over the field, it feels like a beginning, each day a new start to the adventures beyond, and more acutely the adventures within.

SUMMER

photo by Patricia

Something wild inside has quieted, or been accepted, and welcomed as part of my being. Negative thoughts pass through, in and out. The day unfolds with summer’s delights. Sipping the first cup of dark rich brew, the thought is get up and do something.

But no, stay. Stay and taste it as this time is special. Be in the body that too often is escaped from. Stay and be. It’s OK in there. 

We take the canoe to the ‘Butterfly Trail’ setting it into the water on the old canal, more private and smaller than the canal. Though the mosquitos are fierce elsewhere, there are none.

After the quiet paddle with minimal complaints about Samuel’s awkward way of paddling, which makes it almost impossible to keep synchronized with, we picnic on the comfortable bench overlooking the water.

The next day it’s biking along the canal path, the trees shading us from most of the morning’s hot sun. Sweaty on the way back after an hour of peddling, the pool sounds refreshing, and it is.

Today on America’s 4th, the kickoff to the outdoor summer concerts at the Old Lighthouse begins. We love the music floating in the air after setting up our lawn chairs on the grass. In the backdrop tall sails, and other boats gather for the easy listening too.

The long hot days grow short with our activities capturing the moments one by one memorializing them in our memories.

RELAX

photo by Patricia

Upon waking the first feeling is a flash of fear. How to mold the day with discipline, another one to face in a way to feel good about at day’s end. The sun sunk behind the horizon will shine, and the dark thoughts will be chased away by its beams.

That is it, how to live each day so that the brilliance within shines. So that the best comes out, and the rest is worked with patiently, and with loving acceptance.

Beyond the years accumulated where the childhood beliefs ruled, there is a being who partook in life with the wild abandon of joy. Moments of it erupted while doing things dearly loved; running the horse through the fields on a summer’s day, digging in dirt to plant, the soil tying me to mother earth as one while bird melodies make sweet music to work by.

Just sitting, paying attention to the body, allowing each muscle to relax, the cool cement of the patio on my feet while the sun warms the rest of my body. Relaxed enough to feel the sun, hear the birds, and ingest the intoxicating aromas around me.

It is news to me that the many milkweeds Samuel so carefully harvested in the meadow for the monarch’s to multiply on, emit a fragrance so luscious it made me wonder where it was coming from. The wild roses had come and gone while we were away, but the blissful hint of another blossom made me walk over to a milkweed that had flowered. There was the answer to the mystery as I breathed in deeply.

Directing myself to just be takes deliberate intent, but worth the effort as all the senses come alive if relaxed enough to let them in.

BREATHE

Waking. Sit with it. Breathe. Just sit, as the little fountain gurgles, and the hummingbird’s wings make a flutter close-by at the feeder. Birds in the trees sing melodies while the damp earth emits fragrant scents of life.

Just sit. Let the shoulders relax, and breathe allowing consciousness and relaxation at the same time. Coming that far after a lifetime of anxiety is progress, a miracle really. So give room for it. Luxuriate in it.