MORNING SUN

Let your restless, chaotic spirit be hugged

By the breezy morning sun

As petals fall like fairy wings

And birds sing.

LOVING SELF-KINDNESS

The beauty of growing inward and learning to love all that is discovered, cherishing even the flaws and quirks, is that my life becomes my own. That living it my way while different from others is OK for me, more than OK, it is my own soul calling offering a freedom unfounded.

So much thought has been put into what others must think, and with my critical loudspeaker it is usually negative. Learning that my life is mine alone, and finite, allows for the freedom to live it in a way that brings all that one could ask for to flourish. But too easily my thoughts get caught up in the tornado of misguided presumptions, and even if true, so what? This is my life.

It is what I feel and think that matters. That would seem easy to figure out, but with a lifetime of being how my mother groomed me to be; nice, pleasing, non-existent really, just a cut-out daughter to meet her own needs, well, that makes finding my authentic self a tangled path, mysterious, often darkly jungled, having to hack away others opinions to swath a path toward the light of my real soul.

But it is there, that center that offers comfort, kindness, and loving acceptance.

THE THAW

Walking slowly in the muddy meadow, boots sloshing in the wetted pooled areas while sunshine warmed my back along with choruses of birds in surround sound…. the thought, what do you need today to feel at peace and safe?

Focusing on today, what is going on internally with openness even if uncomfortable, painful, or even joyful.

It is a deliciously bright spring day with robin’s egg blue skies and crisp morning air. The warmth goes to my core where feelings froze over the long hard winter.

To feel again, such joy even if the feelings are tears which also iced up over winter.

WHERE THE GOLD LIES

A body living as if threatened daily tires by age 70 in many ways.

As my life narrows because outer stimulation overwhelms me, it widens internally with joy, peace, and most radically- the ability to focus on going into my core for my own answers rather than desperately seeking answers as to what my needs are from others.

How can others know?  Opinions vary from person to person, and what might work for them is not what works for me. Leaning on others helped me survive.

Leaning into me is where the gold lies.

SPRING WALK

Opening the door to the mist and honking of mating geese returning to the creek to nest, my smile bloomed like the little yellow winter aconite flowers in my garden.

My love of dawn walking re-emerges strolling along the row of friendly pines shaking hands with each branch, stopping at one looking up at her majesty.

“You will be here long after I’m gone,” I said aloud.

Their proudness told a story about my own worth. Shattered? If my being was shattered like a pane of glass, nothing would be left. But there is a piece whole, strong and steady like the pines. Nothing- nobody can take it.

Pushing myself to walk faster to increase my heart rate, my spirit lagged moving in parts like a time-lapse photo. Slowing… my parts became whole.  

A meditative walk in the fresh spring air was much more enjoyable bringing all of me together.

PIECES

I

It is OK to be caring, thoughtful, sensitive, compassionate, and loyal to myself, focusing on needs, bodily hurts, and emotional wounds.

That is what comes naturally to others not living with chronic post-traumatic issues. But for me it takes work, attention, and persistence. And still there is no way to recover the shattered pieces, shards so miniscule they’ve scattered in the winds.

First it needs to be learned that it is safe in my body, that running from fears and memories splits me- how most of my life has been lived. Yet splitting has also meant survival. I could not be with it all at once, it has taken a lifetime to chip away at.

It is interesting that only late in life, after all 4 siblings who attacked me sexually have died, that this feeling of OK-ness tentatively wafts up from my core.  

That it is safe to love me, or at least learn to. That tending to that tiny cut, or other seemingly minor wounds is not only OK, but of primary importance. But first I must be in me to even notice the hurt, not split between mind, body, and spirit. With courage the work of coming together continues.

What others take for granted, I work at, but that’s OK too.  Sometimes the more you must work for something the more it is appreciated.  

Life Is Precious

Days after sleep lacking nights feel dull, pitying myself for most of it, having the struggle, needing medication, feeling different, departing from myself as if diseased.

Then 8 solid hours. It is miraculous the way life looks after a good night’s sleep. And being in my body occurs without so much fear. It is fearful though because being all of me means just that, all my experiences run from, because who wants to have been part of my history, memories with all the thoughts, worries, and fears?

It is not surprising that floating into my body only occurs at the safest feeling moments; by the fire after good sleep sipping coffee with kitty next to me, out in the meadow when the pines touch my arm passing by, or sitting by the water hearing the geese honk as other geese fly over signaling THIS SPOT IS TAKEN!

Yet so much of the time fear separates me from myself. It is only when all the parts come together that life feels precious honoring each moment fully.

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

Believe in yourself, hold you shoulders high, feel you power, goodness, and strength.

So many thoughts against myself flow in without consent. Confront each one, its reality, its truth- all blown away under inquisition like dust.

Bred to believe that my worth did not exist, this struggle will need my attention daily especially in winter when my mood plummets.

But the darkness is shifting to more daylight, awakening my inner light, feeling it glow.

ANXIETY & FEAR

It seems as if illness has shadowed me all winter, and with it, anxiety, and fear. Each erupt at will, and it takes will to calm both. Samuel must be used to my upsets.

Wouldn’t it be heaven not to carry this burden of damage done in childhood causing raw nerves to snap like electric wires that fell in a storm? The only storm- my tired out depleted broken body rushing to beliefs of disaster over anything. Add 2 or 3 obstacles to that and explosion occurs erasing rational thought. My internal existence becomes a bundle of static.

Often that is my thinking, how others are so calm, and not pretending calm, but really are deep down.

That is my challenge each day. You don’t need to be a Drill Sergeant. Soft, gentle reminders about my value, worth, and being safe in my body are more effective. Guided compassionately my response is much more productive than the beatings.

CONTENTMENT OF HEART

When the wild birds call,

Can you hear, do you listen?

It was muddy, slushy, and balmy, with fog that was wet mist dampening my coat as my boots sucked in the mud splashing my pants. And I felt alive, after a period of deadness.

The creek water overflowed its banks with a strong current hearing the waterfall downstream. In the distance a train whistle adding to the melodies of birdcalls, and gurgling water.

Yes, little bulbs breaking the surface even in January, probably confused by the warmish weather. Despite the grey drab day, my body felt livened as if waking from a long hibernation of darkness, depression, and anxiety.  

Hope woke in my heart like a candle warming the interior and reading the walls. And with-it ideas to keep bringing light into my inner being. Easter lilies made out of paper, and a favorite puzzle while watching movies. Contentment of heart brought better sleep too.