On The Rocks..

 


      I think I live my life with a certain amount of optimism and gratitude..most of the time. I have learned to accept the cyclical nature of my journey but even then it’s shocking when obstacles appear and suddenly the placid rhythm of life has been disrupted. I am in uncharted waters.
      Sure, I get it, challenging times are to be expected but they certainly don’t have have to be welcome with open arms. I know that there is a lesson to be learned from each jagged and rough hewed rock obstructing my path back to the tranquility of the shore. I know I need to embrace the good and the bad.
      I’ve read and absorbed the extensive wisdom of the the Truth-Tellers. I know I’m to embrace the rocks, and acknowledge the challenges in my path. I need to get to truly know each crevice and barnacle so I can feel the sadness, frustration, and disappointment.

      Then I can begin to climb over, under, above, through, and around these impediments and with bloodied and scrapped hands, I will crawl back to the sea where my equilibrium and hope reside. That is where my spirit feels at home. It is how I heal.

      I know all of that but for now I’ll gather my senses, my strength, and my determination and just breathe. While simultaneously preparing for battle and praying for my soulful return to hope, faith, grace and peace.

        Knowing this too shall pass.

RESILIENCE…………. Every time I thought about writing about this pandemic, my thoughts froze. Trying to sum up the magnitude of the damage, terror, and fear that we have all suffered in the name of Covid, it felt like the task was immeasurable. I struggled to capture the sheer scope of devastation when I realized, everyone already knows what the cost of this pandemic has been on all of us. Tragically, some suffered in horrific and deadly ways and all any of us could do was pray. While I shared the horror and the instability and the isolation, I also found some small measure of peace. I could only control the tiny sphere that became my world and even that was an illusion. Still it was one I needed. An illusion I clung to for all it’s worth. I wanted to remain steady and hopeful for my family in the face of the ravages of Covid. I found solace in the small things while the world’s storms wreaked havoc and sorrow. I was grateful for my family and their safety. I was relieved that my sons were home with me and their dad and not out in the world alone where my worry and fear might have consumed me altogether. Our home became our sanctuary and our escape. I felt safe and comforted here where I can be with my family and close friends and retreat from the never ending updates about the virus and it’s terrifying mutations. I find myself looking for the little moments, the quiet moments of awe and gratitude to remind me that all that I really need is right in front of me. I am looking ahead with a mixture of hope, faith, and trepidation. In the meantime, I will hold the beautiful and poignant moments in my heart and say a silent pray for those we lost, those still sick, and the people on the front lines who stood between us and this virus.

Exhale..

Exhaustion, fatigue, and dismay took over my life the last few months of the Fall. I found that I couldn’t find the energy to express how dark and isolated it felt watching our world spiral out of control. With no other recourse to stem the madness and despair, in the end, I just held my …

RETREAT..

It feels like the world is spinning out of control. America is divided and at a cross roads and the pandemic rages on. Trying to find solace, a place to retreat from the angst and the storms, feels impossible. The vibration of discontent lurks in the shadows and at times it seems we are being …

Goodbye 2018!

 


I’m happy to say goodbye to 2018. It was a year of hard learned lessons. Some I suppose I should have learned a long ago and some I’ve struggled to accept despite all the evidence. In the end denial could only take me so far. Resistance is futile.

I have learned about pain so deep that it sunk into the marrow of my bones and settled into the fiber of my being. For me, grief is a solitary, isolating sorrow. A muted sense of melancholy that enveloped, cocooned, and finally consumed me this year. I couldn’t seem to shake it and finally succumbed to the pain, heartache and loss. In the end, that was my saving grace, acquiescence. The only way out was through the labyrinth of sorrow. I felt tired, weary, my spirit ragged and exhausted. Unexpectedly there was a stirring, a slight shift in the air. Which was slowly replaced with a thin veil of hope. A stripping away of the grief. Like a string of lights, each igniting the next light and so on until a path was finally illuminated. A way out.

Now it is time to unwrap myself from the silken tentacles of grief and begin to live fully again. So adieu, 2018. It was a rough and tumble ride. I’m grateful for the lessons along the way but sadness is heavy. It weighted me down and the only way back to the surface was to accept what could not be changed.  Life isn’t meant to be lived in the shallow end. 

Welcome 2019! The road was dark and deep but I have promises to keep. Pardon me, I think I see joy ahead.