The Long Road Back

2023 began with an ending, and we found ourselves heading back east for my father’s funeral in January. After almost four years, my first trip since the pandemic was a sad one. Coming out of such a long confinement, the journey we have made countless times seemed longer and my relatives looked older, the kids bigger. We all had to get to know each other again, and I for one, am not the same person I was in 2019. The family dynamics had shifted of course, and we struggled to gain some kind of footing while wading through the mementos of a long life.

Tables were piled high with photo albums full of forgotten family, dusty yearbooks of a life before mine, and innumerable slides that couldn’t be viewed unless you held those tiny squares up to the light. Fresh young faces lit by flash bulbs smiled at me with such bright hopes for the future, yet to be dulled by disappointments and setbacks, mind-numbing responsibilities and grinding routines.

As expected there were no end-of-life plans to fall back on so we the living fumbled through the arrangements as best we could, trying to honor and remember while finding a final resting place. The quest took me back to the cemetery where the families of both my parents are gathered, grandparents and great-grandparents, great-aunts and uncles. It’s also close to the little apartment over my grandfather’s garage where my parents began their life together and where I started mine. As strange as the recent past seemed to me now after the pandemic, the distant past still felt the same as I listened to my uncle recount stories of the places he’d lived and mischief he’d caused while we drove the narrow roads of my early childhood, through horse country that had magically transformed into suburban estates somewhere along the way.

The tribute to a life fully lived ended with the sudden crack of a gun salute on a bitter-cold winter afternoon and then we found ourselves gathered around the familiar table, telling the old stories and recalling special moments both present and past. As much as I had dreaded a reunion, the vital connections made to the living on this visit resulted in great healing, which ironically (or not) is the word I’ve chosen for this year. May this kind of heart healing continue as we all navigate a changed new world.

Peace in Pieces

I must say my word for 2022 took interesting twists and turns. “Peace” did not come easily this year while war, social turmoil, health issues and brutal weather events attempted to disrupt any gains I made in my inner and outer work. In overcoming the challenges and setbacks during these past months, I found occasional moments of serenity more precious than gold. Life’s chaos taught me that achieving peace is a state of mind first, and then the rest will follow.

Looking back, I feel like the first half of the year was spent under pressure, hurrying from project to project as we began to venture out of our quarantines. After two years of staying put with good excuses not to make any real plans, the starting gate was flung open and suddenly there were deadlines and invitations and expectations. Although I told myself that life had changed, I fell back into the old patterns and mindset all too quickly, thinking that we were guaranteed good health after taking all the prescribed steps. But vaccinations and wishful thinking don’t prevent infection, and the wily virus knocked my legs out from under me and sent me to bed, for months.

During the long, sleepless nights, I had plenty of time for review. It seems like the Universe is determined to give me a chance to see the error of my ways, namely that I am always ignoring chronic health issues that won’t just go away on their own. I had to make some conscious decisions to find healthcare that worked for me instead of settling for systems chosen by my insurance company. Going off of the conventional path to discover lifestyle alternatives seemed scary at first, but I followed my intuition and knew in my heart that my healing couldn’t just come from a pill. I had to educate myself first and then pay attention to how my body reacts to remedies.

Ultimately the greatest healer was time. And in a period of gestation that couldn’t be rushed, I found peace. Regardless of what was going on around me, when I needed to rest I would rest. When I needed to eat then a snack was in order no matter the hour. I began to chart my body’s functions like a mother does with a newborn, and I needed to establish a routine that would accommodate my medicine, supplements, exercise, nutrition and sleep patterns. I discovered that audio books were a marvelous way to fall asleep and that certain voices lulled me off to dreamland like a little child.

In childlike surrender I found the peace of taking one day at a time. Each day would be unique, with different symptoms and patterns. It was a bit like a big puzzle, and I found that when I stopped thinking about the causes so much, the simple solutions would come to me. I had to let go of the anger and blame I held toward the conventional healthcare system and providers who didn’t care or were too rushed to listen. And finally, when I stopped depending on others to fix me and took the reigns for my own life decisions, I found peace of mind. Like Dorothy in Oz I’d had the ability to reach this place all along; I just needed to try.

So I say goodbye to 2022 a little older, wiser, stronger and at peace. And I wish you peace as well as we enter a New Year.

Path to Peace

The significance of my 2022 word for the year, “Peace,” turns out to be more universal than I thought, unfortunately. My humble notion to spend a quiet year focusing on inner and outer manifestations at a personal level have been usurped by horrific images coming out of Ukraine, a country I associated with sunflower fields and ornate architecture resting in Russia’s shadow. Turns out this bravely independent country is much more than that. As am I.

The Year of the Water Tiger has already presented itself as the opposite of peaceful — brash, ambitious, unpredictable and aggressive. The specter of war has latched itself to the Tiger’s tail and opened up the world’s wounds on a larger scale. Apparently Covid’s death and destruction didn’t deliver enough suffering. Or rather, pandemic was the beginning of a series of evils released by Pandora’s box that humankind must address.

In the face of constant turmoil and uncertainty, I keep coming back to the original inspiration for my choice of theme this year. During a family vacation to St. Louis in 2013, I stopped by a downtown New Age shop run by a soft-spoken young woman in long skirts and even longer dreadlocks whose presence was palpably peaceful. The mindful way she moved, the soothing tones of her voice and the gentle attention she paid her customers created a moving meditation that affected me more than all the years in a local meditation group. She was peace in action, something I had never witnessed in practice except among ancient nuns in a dying convent.

I have held that encounter like a mental mantra close to my heart all these years. As an adult, I’ve experienced fleeting moments of profound peace that embraced me with infinite love only a few times in my life, mostly at unexpected moments. I would like this feeling to happen more and often. How to find and hold peace despite the ego’s determination to disrupt and divert is probably one of life’s greatest challenges. Perhaps it is the greatest challenge of all.

The inner and outer journey required to peace is what I will be exploring in this year of turbulence. I can already tell that the path’s lessons will be difficult and costly. In order to gain, much will have to be let go. I know the ego part of me will fight like a tiger to keep the drama and chaos going, while my soul spirit which has always known the way, will patiently wait.

Peaceful Kingdom

The first month of 2022 has already tested my new word for 2022. Last year’s “Growth” certainly proved profitable and prolific in my little household. I always stand in awe of the power held by a word in focus and intention, and the unpredictable ways that my word will play out in the year. The literal outcome for Growth was that I started and bought more garden plants than I knew what to do with, while the spiritual journey led me to appreciate all that I don’t know and can learn from.

Each day as I stepped outside into my gardens, there were many surprises, some wondrous, and quite a few . . . not so pleasant. As I’ve revealed in previous posts, our urban bungalow lot is home or close neighbor to squirrels, rabbits, skunks, groundhogs and local felines, all of whom can make their presence known in interestingly destructive ways. Last year various deterrents were employed, with physical barriers working best even though chicken wire and row covers aren’t the most attractive solutions. Stinky sprays smelling of garlic and rotten egg were also effective until the rains came, or the critters got used to the smells.

However, the biggest (physically and destructively) perpetrator of them all, remains undeterred for the most part. Even in these last few bleak wintery weeks they have polished off whatever isn’t inert or tied down. As much as I love their quiet demeanors and soft doe eyes, the deer and I have a love-hate relationship in regards to gardens. So much so that I’ve decided that a good wire deer fence is a necessity for these urban herbivores who think that everything I plant is especially for them. And I do mean everything — even strong-smelling herbs and bristly shrubs aren’t off limits. I guess the herd hasn’t read the deer-resistant plant lists yet.

I also plan to continue offering sacrificial plants that they can eat like last summer’s extra tomato plants I stuck in the very back of the yard, an offering to the antlered gods and occasional ground rodent. Various raised bed frames and screens are in the works, too, since we can’t fence in our entire yard at this time. Barricades can make good neighbors and keep the peace in edible turf wars. Therefore, my word for 2022 is “Peace,” both internally and externally. My hope is that we all can experience peaceful communion this year, not only in our backyards, but also in communities, towns, states, countries and the world.

So may it be.

Finding the Magic

This blog’s long silence can be blamed on our move to the country, and lots of trips with the back of the car loaded Beverly Hillbillies-style holding what we thought were our “minimalist” belongings, which turned out to be quite a few.

Granted, the capacity of our hatchback isn’t cavernous, and we managed to relocate without a moving truck, but still, our “living with less” egos became a bit bruised over the weeks and months that dragged on as we filled box after box. We also were cured of the whole weekend-house-in-the-country mystique after we did our best not to buy and own two of everything, a feat that inevitably led to at least one item residing in the wrong place just when we needed it every week.

However, as I wander around still searching for hastily packed items that ended up in the oddest of places (paring knives with the bath supplies, anyone?), I’m constantly amazed by how everything seems to gravitate toward its perfect placement, and the stuff of my dreams (rustic bohemian cottage with flower gardens) is coming to life after thirty years.

Around every corner, and out the window especially, I’m struck full of wonder each day by a brilliant light beam, or the jewels of frost on an unruly tussle of native seed pods. A walk to the river nearby can lead to a sweet encounter with a baby river otter or the sleepy gaze of a garter snake. The sacred soul of this land that drew ancient prehistoric people to leave their calling cards in the form of earthworks and stone tools, is palpable here.

Which leads me to my Word of the Year, completely entwined with the prolific vegetation that could easily compete with Jack’s beanstalk, and heralded by the fairies that live in a world garden created in love. What could be more appropriate than “Magic” for 2018?

I’m sure that magic won’t be hard to find every day.