SOLITARY LIFE

Walking the meadow each day on my own, as well on my own the rest of the day, though Samuel is always around since retiring, my solitary life doesn’t mean being disconnected from the world or others cared about. My core, my soul, connects intuitively with all.

That includes origin family members, though after repeated attempts at connecting in person, it is best for me not to as doing so leaves lasting feelings of hurt, confusion, and sadness behind.

Though many families enjoy their extended family’s, as it should be, not so for me, and probably many more like me who were sexually abused as a child by a family member(s).

A piranha, which is how it feels. Shut up, shut down, be what we want, not who you are.

No thanks. My best buddies continue to be what mother nature offers, bringing smiles, peace, and fulfillment; birds, flowers, chipmunks, squirrels, and so much more. But mostly it is getting to know myself.

Though sometimes helpful, it isn’t from others that answers come, it comes from within, that well springing eternal even after death. Because we each make an imprint with our lives. Given the gift of life… live it. Because it is a gift, there is only one of you.

MOMENTS

There is the realm of thinking. Then emotions. Physical abilities which often don’t work right because thinking is on fast forward… Then there is the rich loam of the soul, the core gathering all the parts into one.

How many of us are able to collect the fruits into one basket? Often it feels like everyone but me. Yet another whisper floats up, you have the power to live in the now, right this moment.

There are only so many strung together to make a life. And right this moment, be there.

HOME

And so, the bone-tired weariness begins to wane, so too the anxious lonely missing of Cory because leaving sooner than he’d hoped caused a feeling of great failure as a mother.

But home. Sleep comes. No drugs. Kitty and I patter out to porch coffee in hand, lighting a rose scented candle as a golden quarter orb rises over the horizon. First thinking it was a house light at the edge of the forest on the hill, a crescent moon shone her happy orange-yellow glow.

The male daddy bird chirped from the birdhouse in the dark, much earlier than the other birds, announcing his ownership of the castle with his wife inside on her nest. The peepers in harmony in the distance entering my core soothing like a purring cat upon a lap.

My core, remember that? Touching base with it only momentarily for way too long, anxiety’s roiling keeping me away from it.

Now I know I needed to be home, even if all the other people around me didn’t. Even if it means being a bad mother. Even if letting others down.

It is so extremely uncomfortable advocating for my own needs. My husband and son did not debate my needs. I did. I did for two days after coming home.

But now I know that home is where I need to be. Dreams continue as if still there, working through the unfinished business. Others that met me wondering about my differentness, not knowing of my shattered past.

So naïve to trauma and life’s harsh cruelty, and what it does to someone, making blithe comments that I take home to heal over until realizing they just don’t know.

And hopefully never will. It is not wished upon them. But I know. It is only my own internal self that needs to know and love me though their ignorance. But so hard when in their environment, not mine where mother is nature loving me.

But home. The unusual warm two days, yesterday by the creek in reverie bringing me back into my internal home. Slowly strength and health return.

A WALK

Photo by Patricia

After a taste of warm weather it is hard to go out when the blowy snow returns. But this morning, though still frigid, the breeze has died down to nothing and the cold is braved.

Reds line the skies over the hill hitting the water lighting it on fire as birds sing a steady chorus entertaining me. The ground is solid and crunchy, much better than the sucking mud, but oh how warm sunshine is craved.

The geese squawk in from wherever they stay overnight, landing near the area where nesting will occur— looking at me walking by unperturbed.

The clouds come in at the end of my meanderings stealing the light into grey, but I’ve had my walk and am fulfilled.

WHOLE and SLOW

Basket made with a piece of lace…

There is honor in caring for the temple in which you live. Breathe. Go slower, because my tendency is to race ahead of the present moment to what’s next.

What about right this moment? What about lassoing in that mind whirling about your body and bring it in, deep within, calling the pieces as if metal dust to a magnet?

It feels so good to be all together but move too fast and many Patricia’s appear as if in fast speed and the camera takes a picture of each one, the action making a blur.

It is OK my friend, to do what you need to do to stay whole.

FRIENDS

One night of almost agony, forcing myself to stay in bed, rolling from one side to the other. Hours go by, and some sleep came though it didn’t feel like much and yesterday was low key due to tiredness.

But not that awful grogginess that happens when the sleep aid is used. Calling a friend, asking for sleep pointers after a terrible winter of sleep issues, she has great ideas that I’d heard before but didn’t think would work for me.

One, she never gets out of bed. That sounds like good behavior because a pattern was set up that made things harder. Another tip, when not getting back to sleep she turns on the radio to the news station and puts it on a timer. (so one was ordered coming soon)

She thoroughly knew what I talking about when waking to use the bathroom then thoughts invading about every little thing that has gone wrong, and whatever else a woken up busy mind might do.

A news channel might help to get my mind off things that can’t be changed onto things other than me! It is so good to hear her voice, as calling any friend has been abandoned for much of these past few years when needed the most.

And now that masks are off, plans are made to have lunch with another friend. Oh, how these things have been missed!

JOY

PHOTO BY PATRICIA

And so, the dam broke releasing rigidity as joy flowed in. Birds singing, the cacophony filling my soul as they fly above or chirp atop the trees. Sitting creek-side the joy compounded as brown ducks, often so shy but not hearing me sitting so still, swooped down with a splash in the water.

She tried twice to enter the duck box, checking out real estate to nest in but to no avail. Was she too big? No, that couldn’t be it. They leave, but another pair splash onto the water, but these were Kingfishers.

He went to sit on the box as if to say to his mate, “How about this one?”

She swims closer right up to the bank, but suddenly a squirrel dropped down from the branch above and scared him away, then entered the box.

Squatters. Samuel discovers baby squirrels, and we cannot evict a family with babies! After they leave, Samuel will have to move the duck box away from all trees.

But so much splendor, so much thrilling adventure out there in our little meadow!

STAY

Practically begging others to help guide me or make decisions for much of my life because my insides were so broken, has evolved in to relying on myself.

How would anyone know what is right for me but me? But me, where or where was she? Broken, shattered right down to my core, all the pieces biting and tearing at each other.

Hate for self was all there was. It did take shoring up by therapists to succeed at just about anything. Once believing in even a scrap of self-worth, great achievements occurred.

Finishing that last course so long ago to receive an Associates degree. Completing a Chemistry course in adulthood that was failed miserably in high school. Then moving on to nursing school, and with nurse’s cap and gown handed a diploma as a Registered nurse.

Jobs offered and stuck with. But then a therapist would leave the state, or become completely caught up in their own life problems- there, left on my own when my insides were still so cold to myself, failure occurred.

Without a therapist to boost me up, job interviews were as iffy as my ragged self-esteem. Finally after too many let-downs, I stopped interviewing accepting that so much damage was done that I’d need more therapy if I wanted to work.

I didn’t want either. My being still reacted as if on hot coals needing this or that to take me from myself. But over time, with patience, meditation, and traveling deep within my core, (only the intrepid might try) growth occurred, that of knowing myself, accepting myself, and accepting real feelings and letting them travel through and out.

Daring to dive deep comes with rewards, it isn’t all painful… peace, safety and self-reliance softly soothed the bloodied corners of my soul.

Settling into my being each morning. Just stay and see what’s there. It’s OK.

Universal Unity

The aloneness felt now is not the one haunting most of my life like a double edged sword, a searing loneliness to run from. This aloneness is to sit with, explore, and accept in its entirety. Because we are born on the path from womb to air on our own, and leave this world on our own.

It seems so very odd at times, this craving for less stimulation or fakeness found in so many people, choosing instead the bluebirds, the swaying meadow grasses, and other creatures living under mother’s hand.

Then, the realization that we all make choices about our lives, though mine didn’t begin until recently, the freedom to make my own. Cages of the past confined me, but the door of the cage began to open and daringly my being began to slip free.

My choices. Not what you think I should do, or more so, my critic always yammering about abnormality and get your ass moving and doing something other what you are doing. Choices that move me towards a peaceful life looking at myself with new eyes that see a being as normal as you and everybody else.

That is a miracle for someone who believed she had no right to be here, that she was a ‘fluke of the universe.’ I am the universe, and so are you.