PEACE

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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. 

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SUNRISE & FOG

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Sunrise over the hill causing fog along the creek-line…

I have agreed to care for my new grand-son two days a week starting tomorrow until the end of June when school lets out for the summer. My daughter-in-law returns to her teaching position.

I have become stronger and healthier these last months by increasing exercise and feeding my body in a more healthy, thoughtful way. So I hope I can manage. But 7 am till 1 pm is a long stretch with a 2 month old.

Though the pursuit of health and making those patterns a regular way of life were greatly productive, I look forward to this additional way of feeling productive again. Cindy will join us too after pre-school for lunch and a short play-time. My hands and heart will be full… 

FEELINGS

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photos by patricia

Tears fell on the puzzle as my head bowed. Samuel said, “Go outside and enjoy the day!”

The tears stop. Thinking of a reply to help him understand seems futile, and instead I fervently wish for him to go so that I can have my feelings and release them. So much sadness is yet to come up, sadness’s I learned to squelch. New sadness’s need airing. Feeling feelings is a good thing Samuel.

Upon return from the vet’s I learned Molly has lost a good deal of weight. The tumor behind the eye may have progressed to the lung, or she may have hyperthyroidism. Whichever it is, she is twelve and not feeling well.

My buddy. I have not had a cat I was this close to before and I’ve had lots of cats since childhood, relating to them more closely than any other living being. Molly is more like a puppy-cat following me everywhere. And lately more so. The thought of losing her hurts.

Other sadness’s crop up especially walking the meadow. The first lap brings tears, almost sobs. I look around assuaging my fears that anyone can hear. Both neighbors are working, have your cry.

Now that Chet is dead it seems I think more about what he had done, how much damage. While alive the most I thought about him was what a pathetic life he had; I felt sorry for him and not much more. The tears come for the little girl who feels like someone else…not me.

By lap three my excitement for spring, the green grass and bursting flowers takes over and I go in for my camera. Laying in the dewy grass I snap shot after shot. It feels good to allow tears and sadness, to allow it with no one around to tell me different. It feels good and I feel good, more whole.

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The Deck

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While Samuel’s hard at work, first the deck, now the landing and retaining wall, I have no project and feel a bit lost. For such a small project it certainly is a lot of work and the trips to the local lumber yard are adding up surprisingly in cost. I was even invited to go to pick out the stone path. That was a hot date on a rainy morning, bumping into another couple even older than us also picking out stone for a small garden project. 

“What is our purpose?” I ask Samuel, “Do we just get up and do it again day after day?”

“Yes, maybe that is our purpose,” he answers, barely looking up from his magazine. 

I press on, “You have a purpose. I don’t. The studio bores me,” I stated. 

“Well, maybe you need to do something different,” he responded.

He is right. I need to do something different. But with all the supplies gathered over the years, kiln, clay, glaze, and all the corresponding tools, it had better have something to do with all that. New horizons await. In the meantime, maybe my purpose is caring for this body I’ve spent a life-time escaping.

Being in it scares me, every little nuance making me wonder what is going wrong next. Yet being in it is what can also bring great joy if I work at it and try. Like caring for the burn that turned crimson and scaly. Taking the time to open a vitamin E oil capsule and gently applying it helped, rather than just ignoring it like I might of done.

That’s what others do naturally, care for themselves. And when they do they do great things like become exercise fanatics, yoga experts, lean bicyclists or runners, something physical to complete the whole. 

So my purpose is learning about my body, being in it as fully as possible, which takes work, time, and overcoming the fear. I tend to flee it residing in my head or hovering anywhere else but in it. What wonders await if I allow myself to go deeply into my given gifts?

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A Prayer

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I walk the meadow and pray:

Help me be grateful, feel at peace, and ease my fears…

Praying for a thing helps make it happen. By the next few laps my shoulders squared and I felt more empowered, less victim.

Finding Peace

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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

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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…

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