And so, the self-pity leaks out splashing down my face when allowed, though often as in the past, tears are suppressed causing a life robotically lived.

So let them flow, even if not knowing why. Stress causes tears, even happy stress. The way my body ejects parts of itself leaving the rest behind while rocketing off to Never-neverland? What’s left is wasteland, a vulnerable, weakened, self-doubting desert where I’m parched for warmth, love, and wholeness.

That happens too often and is the cause of great angst and self-pity. Yet there is magic, a friend far away consoling me. Knowing about my lack of self-esteem, and how self-blame batters me ragged over things having not a thing to do with me, eating me alive from the inside out.

A few words from her soothed, and supported my own quiet, wise, voice that couldn’t be heard over the critic’s which was banging away till the bruising caused me to curl insanely up into a fetal ball.

One kind word. One kind word. Thank you.


How to make this day magical. It isn’t outside of me, but within. Walking in the meadow then resting by the creek brings magic, the magic of great tranquility and peace.

My body unfolds like no place else except floating in the pool on a hot summer day. My body lives a life of tenseness. That nature can tenderly caress even my internal organs along with my psyche is a great gift to all parts of me.

Why? The answers aren’t fully known, but perhaps it is knowing that down by the creek my life is mine. The only one to bother me there is a squirrel or bright blue bird, or other forest creature.

But why there and not in the house? What is it about the house that tenses me? Even Samuel can cause a tenseness because it’s one person to please or displease.

The answer still eludes me, but the magic is real.


Home-made apple pie for Don & Seth

It’s always a danger asking two siblings to visit from the city, but felt the risk was worth it. And it did kick me in the butt during the night after waking to use the bathroom.

Tossing restlessly in bed for a few hours, going through the moments of the visit. Really? Do you have to? Great effort was put into NOT doing that, yet when soul speaks it is often in the middle of night.

Feelings of self-worth tend to plummet around those called ‘family.’ And this time was no different, crackers in my hand before bed letting the carbs melt on my tongue satisfyingly. Carbs produce happy chemicals neutralizing those negative feelings about ‘self.’

Food has always been about a different kind of hunger, that of self-love and care, a desperate lack of both until recently when gentleness, kindness, and acceptance of ‘self’ magically dissolved the cravings for something to numb that cloying need.

It is hard labor being around those who are loved yet not trusted, and who cause such toxicity in their insistence of treating me like they once knew me; malleable, pleasing, and unassertive for my own needs.

It took herculean effort to stay inside myself, losing that groundedness momentarily but mostly feeling whole.

So, it isn’t an occurrence that will happen often, but this time progress was made. And sleep came finally, waking a few hours past my normal waking time.

The body has a way of giving itself what it needs if my mind makes room for it by cutting through the gnarled jungle of memories and old habits to discover my true (worthy) self, finding peace.  


Photos from over the meadow down to the creek…

This new you, who are you? You’ve been there all along unappreciated, unknown, unloved, and uncared for.

In opening, really opening as in going deep down way inside with each breath, found is a person of respect.

Behind and beyond the buzz, there is peace, an ocean of it lying internally if only you go there. Find ways to be there. It isn’t in your head, or heart, or any sinewy fiber, but dwelling in the soul connecting it all where oceans open to infinity.

That’s where you’ll find me.

Rest In The Soul

Dig deep. It’s just this hard clammy shell you are stuck in, with one breath you can go further in to where the spirit dwells in peace, harmonious with whatever happens.

Did you forget? It’s not the weather that makes you happy, or the change in seasons. It is in connecting with your own self and comforting myself, taking away the whips and dislike.

The old habits ‘haunt’ me, happening automatically, the first thought negative about me. And that is the work, has been the work, will be the work.

Remember whence you came, and why this is so. Then you can be gentle both with the little girl clamoring for attention and the woman with all the challenges that aging brings.

It is an unhappy surprise to accept that the body is unable to do what the spirit would like, yet there is so much to be had without leaving home, without social parties, without traveling in a car, bus, or plane.

The traveling is internal, to depths many don’t reach or touch. But you can. You have and must remember how.

The peace of the water does it. Sitting by the creek in the stillness, a chainsaw in the distance buzzing wood for colder days, a pair of herons flying by closely unaware of my presence, the squirrel with cheeks full of nuts.

The internal gates open as if in a flood of relaxation, a release unfelt for too long due to other things taking my focus off ‘quiet.’ But it is in this solitude the answers are found, and that warm accepting place harboring the essence of my spirit welcomes.


Good days in summer just happen. How could they not with sun time on the patio and the meadow invitingly calling with its greens, golds, and all colors of summer?

In the darker months it takes effort to reveal what’s important and fun to make a task of. Delighting grandchildren is one of them.

With the endless rain it was time to dust off the elliptical feeling my heartrate accelerate healthfully. Then onto crafting for Halloween, another package to send through the mail for grandchildren in the neighboring state.

That fills my heart and keeps hands, head, and spirit happily busy.

We Will Never Pass This Way Again

With rest my sanity returns, and with it my mundane life as it sadly turns that way when daylight lessons. Then the challenges of finding fun and magic increase, though it’s the little things that are magical.

Even a moment of being in it, after a life of zooming around it, my mind twirling above my body as escaping from it since the age of 8 has been necessary to survive.

When things feel boring, that is when all is well. Because chaos has been the norm. Boring is peace. So look into every moment. It will not pass this way again.

My Purpose?

A walk to the mailbox…

Once retired, children grown, financially stable, what is my purpose? Living it fully, wholly? Because those are challenges to meet to each day that aren’t easy for me. Is it as simple that, whatever life you have, live it?

Walking before barely light enough to see, the mustard in the meadow is such a deep yellow-golden as if on display. Bunnies surprised by this early morning meanderer look up, freeze, then scurry away. The darkness needs light, so another fire is lit on the patio after 5 times around, bringing a soothing warmth to the cool dawn.

There are ways to think, and things to do which relieve the nostalgic ache that autumn brings, with darker months to come. And they too can be filled with light and love.


The sun comes out and with it well-being. The warmth penetrating like a hug. After ten days of dreariness it is welcomed full heartedly. Walking the meadow, kissed by the sun, everything looks brighter especially my mood.

Monarchs circling the sweet scented butterfly bushes swirl over me as if to say, don’t despair, summers not over. My feet feel lighter, and all looks more interesting, out of my head and in to the present.

Todays picks from our meadow…

To Every Season

Though Samuel had opened the pool and it was ready, all of June went by without swimming. And I didn’t mind since the idea of swimming during a month so cool was not inviting.

But yesterday watching him work at closing it? Sadness. Not wanting to give up summer when my mood has been happy (translated- peaceful) and well-being thrived; the warm sunny walks in the meadow, sitting on the patio in the early morn- that will come to an end soon, lamenting the loss, along with coffee on the screen porch even earlier with kitty as companion already snuggling a thick afghan around me on some mornings.

Each season pulls at me, weighing me down by its change till adjustments are made, and self-talk brings centeredness, hence peace. For every season has its splendors but takes effort to fully be in them. The flux of change…