Archives for category: Spring
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Life and Love and an Old Black Sweater

April 25, 2013 //
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The first rose of spring has opened in my garden. It is just 48 days until my 50th birthday, and for some unclear reason 50 feels rather like ‘the middle of life’ – although I am hopeful about living well past the century mark. A beginning, a middle…and an end; I am wearing a long-favored, old black sweater, and I am considering today to be it’s ‘last day’…

'Baby Love' is the first rose to bloom in my garden this spring.

‘Baby Love’ is the first rose to bloom in my garden this spring.

My old black sweater is an ordinary enough black sweater, of mixed synthetic fibers, soft and worn and comfy, with rather mundane cable stitch down the front, and quite large.  I bought it some 15 years ago, during a career change, and a point in my life when I was heavier than I am now. A lot heavier. This is a size ‘3X’ sweater.  It’s huge on me now, mostly pretty shapeless, and not particularly flattering. I’ve never cared about that – it has also been reliably comfortable, effortless to care for, and predictably rather invisible, in the sense that wearing it allowed me to fade into the background at a point in my life where anxiety and unpredictable temperament so ruled my experience that I appreciated having a way to hide from the world in plain sight.  Now, though, life feels very different and I am less inclined to hide. I also feel…healthy, beautiful, and alive – and I’m ready to say good-bye to being so wounded and afraid of the world that only being wrapped in a comfy old black sweater feels safe and warm.  Hugs are better. lol.

 
A sweater is only a sweater, after all… it isn’t a time capsule of memories and events associated with the wearing of the sweater, it isn’t the embodiment of who I am, or who I was, and it isn’t a cherished object of sentimental value clasped relentlessly by possessive withered hands frightened to let go for fear of losing beloved memories to the passage of time. (I may have once thought it was…)  It’s just a sweater: too old, too worn, too big.  It doesn’t fit me anymore.

 
I still like sweaters. I still like black sweaters. I even still like this sweater… but it is time to move on. Time to let go of some things that are not helpful to hang on to. Time to let go of things that get in the way of better things.  Time to accept and encourage and nurture change.  It is time for a new black sweater; sexy, fun, soft…and perhaps in a ‘slightly darker black’?

 
…Or perhaps not black at all.  In 48 days I shall be 50, and I’m clearly not a little girl, anymore. Some of it has been rough, but I think it will be fine if I stop wearing black…beginnings, middles, ends…this is what 50 looks like through my eyes, reflected in my mirror, considered in the context of my experience.

...on the other hand... approaching 50: my right hand, my right mind.

…on the other hand… approaching 50: my right hand, my right mind.

 

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

At a Loss for Words

April 18, 2013 //
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Wow. Writing is a stunningly easy habit to break – which rather surprises me, having written almost compulsively, certainly nearly endlessly, for so very much of my life.  I haven’t painted in a while, either.  I find myself wanting to say something specific, comment on something I have on my mind, work things out on paper…and  yet…change happens. My brain ‘feels tired’. I’m a little…well, not quite…just on the edge of being overwhelmed by something that once would have seemed pretty routine.  Then, there’s the mindfulness practicing; the meditation and yoga, the reading, the mindful writing (that’s this, right here. lol)… it adds up. I feel pretty good most days.  I am more emotionally resilient, more content, more satisfied in my life – and I feel, quite subjectively, that my relationships are deeper, more harmonious, more…shared.  I hope my loved ones feel the same – or at least something similarly positive in their own experience.

…But…I don’t know what to say today. Or yesterday. Maybe tomorrow I will find words? So…today, some pictures.  I hope you find something to enjoy in my simple snapshots of things I have seen for the last few days that were enough to move me to pull out my camera phone. 😀

The view of the garden through my window.

The view of the garden through my window.

A peaceful meadow. I remember how easy it was as a kid to just flop down in the grass without reservtions.

A peaceful meadow. I remember how easy it was as a kid to just flop down in the grass without reservations.

Spring things breaking through the grass into the sunshine.

Spring things breaking through the grass into the sunshine.

Little meadow flowers.

Little meadow flowers.

Lovely flowers.

Lovely flowers.

A tempting path into the unknown.

A tempting path into the unknown.

Enjoy Thursday, enjoy the weekend – enjoy Life.

 

 

 

 

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

This Time It’s Personal…

April 15, 2013 //
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…Or not.  I’m taking a day or two off writing. Not because there is nothing to say; it is more a matter of putting the emphasis on now, and being with my partners.

We’ve had a death in the family, you see, and honoring my loved ones, being there for each of them, all of us together and focused on individual and shared grief in an honest and supportive way doesn’t leave much room for musing about the flotsam and jetsam of my thoughts and experiences, however beneficial it is for me.  This is not the time for amusing anecdotes shared with the world, or fun amateur snapshots of flowers as I walk to work, at least, not for me. Life requires my utter attention for now, as do my loved ones, and when the heart’s tide turns, and the emotional storms settle back to calm waves, I’ll write… or perhaps find myself more moved to write at twilight than at dawn, for a while.

I will observe that I’ve been honored to see some amazing moments of strength, grace, compassion, and mutual support from my loved ones.  We’ve each brought who we are to the stress of sudden loss, and I find myself impressed and awed by these amazing beings that share my life; strong, caring, vulnerable, and willing to really give to one another in moments of incredible personal pain. I am wowed, moved, and incredibly honored to be part of this family we have chosen to create together.

For now, it’s a matter of work and routine, as we each ‘hold our end up’ and get on with the business of living our lives while we deal with pain and grief, holding on to what we know in the face of so much we can never know.  Tonight I’ll put birdseed out, and hang the hummingbird feeder, meditate, and perhaps read quietly or watch a show with my partners as evening turns to night.  One foot in front of the other…each night followed by another dawn. I’m ok…I think we all are…certainly we are well-loved, and supported by many.  Certainly love remains more important than death, at least for the living.

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Categories gardening, grief, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Spring, Words

Seeking Calm, Seeking Chill, Finding Strength

April 11, 2013 //
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Today, it is my walk home last night that resonates with me in a lingering way.  This morning’s walk was lovely, too; still basking in the glow of Love, and attentively observing the sights of spring as I passed by: a hedge of delicate magnolia blossoms turning now to a stale brown as they fade, tiny azaleas unfolding magenta and lemon yellow, big bold rhododendrons of florid scarlet, clusters of sweet smelling shrubs of an unknown (to me) variety, and a seemingly endless number and kind of tiny birds, each with their own song to sing.

First peek at the garden on a spring morning

First peek at the garden on a spring morning

I have my own song to sing, too, and on my walk last night it was a surprise to find myself humming and sometimes even singing aloud.  Each day brings me some moments of finding this new place in myself…a center of calm and strength and wholeness I didn’t know I had within me.  This strong core inside myself seems untouched by momentary ups and downs, by the whims of circumstance, by the petty dramas, tides, and storms of my human experience.  My emotions come and go, sometimes hurting, sometimes surging with passion or delight, and still this core of strength inside myself seems calm and chill, not unmoved, but not involved.  Finding this place inside myself is giving me back some very precious things that I had lost somewhere/when along the way…the freedom to dance, to sing aloud, a feeling of height and power…and safety.  As if… I am my will.  <sigh> That probably doesn’t say what I am trying to say.  Too many, and not enough, words. 🙂

…exit, theme song playing in the background… 😀

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Categories Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

Excuse Me, Where Am I Going?

April 10, 2013 //
1
Sometimes the path is clear.

Sometimes the path is clear.

I had an interesting dream last night.  I found myself before a big ornate door, dark and imposing, and I felt a sense of uncertainty about where I was, and where I was heading.  I knocked on the door and as it opened felt I was standing before ‘the heart of the universe’.  A woman answered the door; a woman of uncommon beauty and serenity, with laugh lines rather than wrinkles, and of an indeterminate age that only seemed ‘not young’. She radiated calm, compassion, and wisdom.  She smiled and sunshine broke through clouds I hadn’t even seen.  She wore my face, but seemed somehow unknown to me in the course of my own experience of life.  I felt her inquire in a questioning way, but wordlessly, and what I thought I heard was more an assurance than a question “I can help you with this.”  I replied simply “Where am I going?” and felt we were truly somehow saying the same thing – as though questions and answers are entirely interchangeable.

I was suddenly in a sunny meadow walking alone, only remembering her, and her words and a big map, with a convenient ‘You Are Here’ arrow. “If your focus is on just one element of the journey, how will you find your way?  Consider the method, the map, and the destination, or be lost aging, not growing.”  She pointed to the map, “You Are Here is where you are, not where you are going.  We don’t choose where we start, we start where we are – and choose our destination.”  I had wanted to ask her again, ‘Where am I going?’, but her compassionate smile stopped me.  She held the door for me then, gesturing to the world on the horizon, “I can’t be you, now, you are not here, yet.  Soon enough, if you follow your path…”   I shaded my eyes from the sun as I stepped into the bright light of day… and woke suddenly, in my dark room to the eager beeping of my alarm clock, and a new day.

It lingers with me even now… “We don’t choose where we start…”

Spring flowers along the way

Spring flowers along the way

I wonder what the journey will be like…who I will become over time… how life will change me… how I will change life around me… now where is that damned map… 😉

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Categories Allegories, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Roses, Spring, women, Words
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