Riptide…

 

It’s been months since I’ve written and I wish I could have been able to express what I was feeling. I confess, my grief just wouldn’t allow me to do much else but ponder, ruminate, and contemplate…the desolation of nothingness and nowhere. I just didn’t have any words or ideas to communicate. My spirit had folded in on itself and I was working on putting one foot in front of the other, and mimicking some version of myself.

Mourning is an all-consuming process and it refused to ebb and flow on my command so finally I surrendered to melancholy and sorrow. I gave myself permission to activate my copilot, but inside my mind, I vacillated between frenzied hysteria and eerie, lonely silence.

For me grief reminded me of swimming in the ocean when I as a kid. I would dare myself to swim out as far as I could, where the water was dark and cold. My teeth would chatter and my skin would wrinkle and prune and with my eyes wide open, I would submerge my head under the mysterious swirling black water and despite the burning from the briny depths of the gauzy green sea, I would open my eyes. Under the misty water, the silence was soothing, aquatic life floated by seemingly oblivious to my anguished presence. There are no human sounds,  emotions are muted, distorted and insignificant. Looking up at the sky through the kaleidoscope of the foamy waves, the sun can be seen floating, glittery and hazily in the distance like a diamond. I felt removed and insulated from life. 

And just like when I was a kid, the need for air would overcome me, and with my lungs bursting, I would be forced, gasping and scrambling back to the surface.  I realize now that grief had clung to my skin, my cells and my heart, and swimming in the ocean allowed the water which had blanked, and for a while sustained me, began to recede. 

When I emerged this time, I found I no longer wished for the fickle darkness of the enigmatic ocean. I decided instead, to let the wind and brilliant sunlight soothe my soul and heal my grief laden spirit. It allowed me to release myself from the riptide of grief that had consumed me.

So with renewed vigor, I am swimming back to shore and to life with renewed energy. That’s the magic of the ocean. Despite its beauty, it can be treacherous and desolate. But if I relax, surrender and float, it’s like a beacon that always leads me home.

The shore…

Island Summer…

Summer has gleeful arrived with all its glory and splendor!

“Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your prayers.” Dr. Maya Angelou

The dock of the sea...
The dock of the sea…
Boats on the sea...
Boats on the sea…
image
The mouth of the sea…

#islandsummer

 

Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

I think sometimes I am so caught up in my day to day grind that I forget what is happening around me. I complain because a class is cancelled or a check didn’t arrive on time or the damn squirrels are eating all the food out of my bird feeder…and then I am sharply reminded about real pain and suffering.

When someone I love is in unbearable pain, suffering in some way, my hear shatters with and for them. Recently a friend of mine was caught in the quagmire of grief and angst and there was nothing to be done about it. It was not pain of her own choosing but someone she loves more than anything. Her sorrow and palpable grief tore my soul asunder. I could do nothing to assuage her heartbreak, nothing but sit in the shadow of her hurt and to be present and bear witness.

Like falling down the rabbit hole, everyone who loves her is swept away in the torrent of her unspeakable, unshakable, unbearable agony. Down, down we all fall, tethered to her as she tumbles further into the abyss. All that can be done, is to fall silently, supportively, and soulfully into the darkness with her so that she isn’t left alone.

I know that I can’t heal or spare her this wrenching horror. I also know that by sitting in the stillness, the injustice, and sadness, I pray I am helping. It works against my nature to not be able to offer some solace or a game plan to ease her pain. Instead it is in the steadiness and assuredness, and the uncomfortableness, that I can show her my love, my loyalty, and my faith.

I try to remember and to focus on, all I can do is show up and pray that the waters will calm and she will commence sailing on smooth waters once again. Until then, I will weep, hug, laugh, and pray with every fiber of my being that she be free from this immense misery and that there will be a profound and magically lesson learned, after this tragic storm.

#friendship #sorrow

Cabin Fever

Usually I write when things are crazy. It’s how I cope but with the endless snow and the kids being home more than in school for the month of February, I’m exhausted. As if the snow days weren’t enough, we are coming to the end of February vacation and though I love my sons and would rather spend time with them more than anyone else on the planet, I can’t wait for them to go back to school. To get back to some sort of routine; theirs, and mine.

The snow is higher than my windows and I admit, I may be suffering from cabin fever. Oh sure, I’ve been out and about and working super hard but the white, whiteness of the snow is getting to me. Everywhere my eyes can see, there are mounds and mounds of snow too tall to throw snow on top anymore. Shards of ice dangle precariously from everyone’s house, and businesses, and the lakes and oceans are coated with huge chunks of floating, frozen, frigid white ice, far and wide.

I crave colors, green grass, the smell of fresh flowers, the warmth of the sun, and the water cascading over my head as I wade out to swim in the ocean. This is beginning to sound more like a plea for help or a message in a bottle from some foreign land. I’d laugh but I’m afraid it might sound a bit maniacal.

So hopefully, March will roar in like a lion and I know everyone here on the east coast will dance with fevered merriment and joy when the temperatures hit 50 and the only sounds we hear are the drip drop of snow melting, melting, melting. And our lives return to some semblance of order. I will end by sending the final snow photos for 2015 and hope that the next thing I write will be more optimistic and this winter will be something I talk about with nostalgia and not while gritting my teeth, my white teeth. I know, I’ve gone too far.

The freezing ocean
The freezing ocean
Dock frosting
Dock frosting

IMG_5975

 

 

#endless snow #cabin fever

Weather the Season…

I confess that I love Autumn and all its glorious, radiant and vibrant colors. I am less impressed with impending winter.

For the eye of a photographer, the snow is a study in contrasts. I love finding that one burst of color amidst the blanket of white that covers and devours the Northeast. If only I could discover these amazing photos from inside, by the fireplace.

Sure the falling of the first snowflakes fill me with wonder and nostalgia but I didn’t drive or have to go to work when I was young so factoring in travel time, icy roads, and bald tires were not relevant in my kid’s world of snow. Snow days were the gift of the weather Gods. Shoveling was play time not work time.

The raw beauty of the snow moves me but mostly it makes me want to move to a warmer climate. For some reason I feel more productive when the sun is out and the days are longer and warmer.

And yet, I am a four season girl. I like the transition from one season to another, it makes me feel like I am being given a do-over, a clean slate, if you will.

So, it is with reluctance that I welcome the impending winter. I am grateful that we get to the chance to meet again. Even if I have to bundle up for the honor.

Winter Harbor
Winter Harbor
Snowy Lighthouse
Snowy Lighthouse