PEACE

fd0867289772094ecbed893470d36555

In that place that is not now, distracted from the present, and not knowing why, tears fall. Then fall more.

Sometimes an instinctual urge has no name or explanation. Get out. Walk. Doing will help you feel productive, not paralyzed as this new wave of unspoken needs and change take hold.  

Eventually the mind will meet the emotions and the unnamed feelings will make sense; or they won’t. Until then ride the waves and do the work needed to maintain health in all realms; emotional, mental, spiritual and physical. 

Walk, confront the negative voices, bring that dissociated mind back to what is around you now. A scent lifts me, the aroma of lilacs or lily of the valley. The cat splays out on the floor in the sun stretching her expansive furry body able to look adorable even in her sickness. Life goes on…

The feelings move through. Another day arrives, each one a new flavor. 

images

BLOOMING PROPERTY

A walk around the house…

Waking the feelings of sadness pull me down and easily defeat efforts of a productive day. Determined to not let an aging cat cripple me with negativity I push myself out onto the meadow. The day sparkles with sunshine not matching my mood. 

On lap five I lay down in the shade on the gentle bank filled with lilacs standing guard offering protection to the precious ever expanding area of lily of the valley.  I begin pulling the stems then relax asking what’s the hurry? Where are you going? This is what you are doing and where you are. Be here and now. 

The scent fills the empty places. Breezes caress my body as the sun flickers through the leaves making moving patterns around me. I say my prayer and it is heard as my insides unwind and pull in the beauty around me. 

Help me be grateful, feel peace and ease my fears. 

I go in for my camera and take a walk around the house filling my soul with more ‘food.’ 

WHOLENESS?

Picture 014

photo by patricia

I wonder at the tattered cloth, can it ever be whole? Feelings of wholeness seep in then despair. A depth of dark and cold with no succor. The yearning for something unnamed. Resolve to have it. Then tears.

And more tears. An awakening. The present so infected by the past. Go back? Must I go back? Others say, “Be happy.” My happy is back there to that little lost girl I abandoned. I hurt, she hurts.

“Why?” she asks. “When you had college age women to explore your sexuality with. Others who were willing and your age. Why a little sister? Only a child. A little girl who looked up to you, adored you, trusted you?” And she cries as she asks.

Like a tattered cloth that needs mending, the needles pierce with every stitch. To make it whole again the wounds must be lanced and it hurts. To come to the present I must visit the past and I don’t want to. Yet the visit brings me back to the present more fully.

images

GIFTS

Each morning is a gift, cool but also warm, the sun against an azure blue sky decorated with white puffs of cottony clouds, post-card perfect and burgeoning with life. Flowers, fruit tree blossoms, grass, leaves, buds, it is all exploding yet I am calm.

Learning to go into my feelings rather than avoiding them has helped, not trying ‘be happy’ or be like how others appear to be, but allowing for my own inner workings to be felt, then to come up and be released. And for me, a sensitive soul, that involves a lot of crying, crying yet absorbing the wonders around me. Once it seemed impossible to do both. Now I accept it as a way of life.

Walking the lush grass in the meadow is like floating on carpet as the songs of various birds guide my way. Pausing at the creek garden to enjoy the tender opening of the tiny blue forget me knots, a startled duck flies away. Ripples reflect like diamonds and the once dull brown at the water’s edge has turned a lush green mirroring its lively color on the water’s surface doubling the colorful effect. It is an emerald wonderland rich with every possible hue!

“So much is happening I can’t take it all in!” I exclaim to Samuel bent over his work in the garden as he gently loosens the dirt around the asparagus. He nods and smiles as I continue by on the path.

And it is, so much new life, and some appears to happen after every lap around the meadow.  The hostas seem to grow by the minute and so do the lilacs and snow-ball bushes. Under the old, majestic, gnarled cherry tree the ground holds a confetti of its blossoms. Stopping to pick one up the delicate petal feels like a wisp of a feather in my hand. It has a light sweet fragrance. I toss it in the air smiling, walking on.

I’ve done enough if at day’s end one moment of extraordinary beauty has been savored and remembered. It is a gift to behold this wonder of spring!

Finding Peace

Picture 256

photo by patricia

The havoca newsletter (Help for Victims of Child Abuse) prompted this post as it relates so much to my difficulty in maintaining equilibrium; especially the following line, though the entire article might be worth the read. Unfortunately one has to subscribe to receive their newsletter but it’s free and so far has not been invasive or a problem. https://www.havoca.org/subscribe/

They have difficulty in trusting their ability to influence their own experiences, and may feel that their lives are in the hands of others and external forces which are beyond their control. This can, at best, put them in a difficult and frightening psychological position.

Samuel wakes three hours after me, and then we share coffee as our son Shane calls on his ride to work. He updates us on the grand-kids doings, and it usually is a great joy to my day. Yet my chest tightens.

Mornings, usual a favorite time, have become stressful. Breathe. I have much to do, the arm exercises, Kegels, walking, meditation, dinner, and on it goes. And these things needn’t stress me, yet the springtime rush of chemicals to my brain makes me, well, kind of loopy.

Samuel takes the phone and they chat. The pressure begins to abate as relaxation techniques are applied. We are sitting on the porch. The geese at the creek are squawking. Shane remarks that even he can hear the birds chirping through the phone.

The tightness unwinds and it continues to be a revelation that one can cause injury to their body by their thoughts, or bring health. Trusting my ability to do this, to go internally where intuition can be my guide is an ongoing journey. It takes work, or at least focus.

After the call we go outside. Samuel works on the deck, but I just sit. So much is popping up from the ground including many spring blossoming flowers that it is hard to absorb. More is spotted each time I look.

Just be, soak it in. The scent of hyacinth wafts up, even the bleeding heart broke the surface of the earth. Time to walk, and at each lap I allow the pleasure of sitting by creek. The frogs have come up from the mud and they sound as if they are gurgling with the mud.

The ability to calm is within…

 

 

TERROR

Picture 078

Echoes of the past,

Reverberating from childhood,

Haunt me still…

The group of people I was born in was not a family but a place of terror. Terror and anxiety are my companions. Each day is a search for a place of peace and safety…

animatedbfswithpansiesclear 

The Lake

Our little creek has swollen with the rains…

040 (Large)

Decaf works best for me, yet spiking it with caffeine seems to make it taste better. Yesterday the spiking was too heavy and the day got away from me. No way to find the wholeness continually searched for. What could have been a peaceful day was fraught with separateness unable to enter the dwelling of my body and stay there. My mind buzzed…all from a small amount of added caffeine. 

Doing what I do best, beating myself up, I bow my head over my burning hand on the counter and wept. I wept for the stupidity of pulling the crock pot over to the sink still plugged in. The hot bean liquid splashed all over my hand. And finally wept for the bag of chips I ate the day before and wanted to confess about but couldn’t till then, “All 6 ounces Samuel. I ate the whole bag!” 

He cleans up the mess and says, “So what.” 

Holding my hand under cold water, I watch as he eats out of his bag of chips. “I love this salsa,” he says, grabbing more chips.

We had shopped together, an unusual occurrence due to my extreme impatience. I knew better than buying myself chips, albeit baked, but thought skeptically that I could eat just small amounts at a time. He grabbed his bag of tortilla chips.

“No!” I said, when he pointed to the peanut butter stuffed pretzels. I cannot have junk around. I eat it!

Going over to the table I pick up his bag and look at the ounces. 12. He had eaten half a bag, same as me, but he wasn’t smashing his face in the cement like I had been doing. 

All the talk of self-love, self-compassion, self-forgiveness…where does it go? Every time I make a mistake, or mistakes, it comes smashing down, and it stays. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” he says. 

“And I’ll make more mistakes tomorrow!” I retort. 

Yet this morning I feel calm as the sun rises warming my face through the window. This part of me that is so hard on myself is staying. I need others who help me come out from the mire when I’m stuck, and luckily I have them…

my birthday surprise from Samuel

060