Moving Day

Moving Day

It is 10:30 in the morning, and except for the cats who are stuck in the bathroom until the movers work their magic and deliver all our furniture and heavy boxes, I am alone in our new home. Bear Path Cottage. My dream come true. We will spend our first night here tonight, but our first sleep here will take place sometime this afternoon when we've made the bed and Rhodes and I and the cats settle in for an afternoon nap. I've been looking forward to that nap for days.

When we took possession of the house two months ago, a nap wasn't at the top of my list for "first thing" in the Cottage, but this has been a long, happy, stressful, joy-filled, exhausting, thrilling, two months. An afternoon nap in the soft green-tinted natural light that fills our beautiful bedroom is absolutely the most perfect celebration I can think of.

The process of restoring this house and filling it with good vibes, love, and peaceful energy has at times been a challenge, and a solid, tangible, touchable metaphor for the painful healing journey I am on. I have learned that the Cottage will not give up the scars it carries from its 37 years of existence, and I have learned that it is okay for those scars to show. She earned her scars just as I have earned mine, and although they don't always reveal their backstory, they are a testament to strength.

If there were a banner across our front porch it might read "This Home was Made with Love." I am (and Rhodes is too) deeply grateful to the family and friends who helped us fill these rooms with love, laughter, music, and memories through the days of transformation. It might be difficult for some folks to understand that moving into this dream and knowing that Beth will never physically be here with us is deeply painful. The built-in memories and hand-crafted touches of love that we are starting with help to ease that pain.

Last night we heard a bullfrog singing his night song somewhere down the road, and when we got back from a riduculously late dinner our yard was filled with fireflies. The gardens are growing, and yesterday we found fresh bear scat in the part of the yard we call the North 40. Our notch-eared neighbor rabbit makes an almost daily appearance in the front yard, and the birds fill the air with song and raucous calls. We are surrounded by nature. We are surrounded by magic. We are doing our best to respond with love.

Six years and three days on the Mountain, and now that we are leaving, we are finally home. Welcome to Bear Path Cottage.

Peace out, peeps.

~sheri

Even When All You Can Do Is Remember To Breathe

There are moments in any given day, and days, and weeks at a time when my grief for my youngest daughter, Elizabeth Jean, washes every moment with tears or finds me standing at the edge of sanity, wondering if I shouldn't just jump. Those moments have been many, of late. I am grateful for the anchors that keep me here. 

She was drifting away for such a long time. I have missed her for ages, and can only hold on to the belief that someday I won't have to miss her anymore.

May 30, 2106 - I didn't publish this one, because it was about Beth.

(Never) Lost
Those who don't know can't know it,
And those who do try hard not to show it.
There is always an empty place at the table,
Always a do the best you are able,
Even when all you can do is remember to breathe.
There is always some old when to remember,
And always an extra chill to November,
Even with extra hearts hanging on your sleeve.
Color the tattoos, run in the sun,
Color outside the lines of your life, Learn again how to have fun.
Live every day to remember how to live every day.
Even when life begins to seem better, there will always be an empty place at the table.

May 30, 2016 - This one, I shared, because it was about Beth and so much more.

Never Lost
The sun rose today and I reveled in its warmth.
The sky was blue, with wispy clouds, and I adored its promise of forever.
I adventured to a place where I walked a mile high,
And I heard the wind singing wild songs through the trees and the wires.
I walked 600 feet into the body of the Great Mother,
Where I felt Her heart beating in time with mine, felt Her love brush away the cold breath of death remembered, and the tears She wept for fallen warriors kissed my head and upturned face.
I talked and laughed with, and hugged and kissed, the man who is my best friend and lover.
I soaked up every minute of living, filling my spirit with Life each time I filled my lungs with air.
I ate ice cream and drank sweet tea and drank in honeyed love,
Because your lives and your deaths have taught me the importance of being in the here and now.
I thought of each of you today, I grieved and cried and smiled at memories of you.
These are the things that keep you safely in my heart.
My faith tells me that you are safe and at peace somewhere on the other side.
Safe in heart, safe in your own heaven,
You are, then, never lost.

Peace out, peeps.

~sb

Reading List (Or, Down the Happy Rabbit Hole)

Random musing: I was delighted this morning to see that the lavendar in the front garden is starting to bloom! This was the first thing I planted here at the Cottage, and I have hopeful plans for a larger lavendar bed somewhen down the road. I love the scent of this flowering plant, and just walking by and brushing the leaves to release the scent or clipping a small piece to carry with me can elevate my mood. I have also been reading that lavendar can be helpful with improving memory and reducing stress. 

I have difficulty focusing for long (and short) periods of time these days. (Thanks, fibromyalgia and PTSD.) The twisted one I live with suggested that I write just the first sentence and end this blog post there. I think not! It has taken me three days to write this, but I will see it through to the end. 

One of the things I am doing to work on healing my brain is reading. Remember books? Those physical objects, bound with paper or cloth or some version of it? I sure do. My love affair with books started before I was four years old, and actually holding a book, feeling the paper, and even the scent of a book can help to ground me. Those things can also send me off into a world of daydreams, but that's not important right now.

In a couple of weeks my pile of unread books will be stacked in a crate on my desk where they can tease my mind every day. I hope that eventually I will be back to my old reading 2 or 3 or 4 books a week self.

What's on your reading list? Please feel free to share in the comments below!

Here's what I have in my To Be Read pile, in no particular order:

• Touch the Earth Kiss the Sky: Allowing the Rational Mind to Welcome Magic & Spirtuality – Diotima Mantineia   (not yet available, but soon!)
• The Boy and The Girl Who Broke the World – Amy Reed (not yet available, but soon!)
• Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening - Louise Riotte
• Roses Love Garlic – Louise Riotte 
• Hexology: The History & Good-Luck Meanings of the Hex Symbols - Jacob Zook and Prof. Johnny Ott 
• Hopkins: Poems (Everyman's Library Pocket Poets Series) - Hopkins, Gerard Manley 
• Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays - Christa Wolf 
• Personal Mythology: Using Ritual, Dreams, and Imagination to Discover Your Inner Story - David Feinstein Ph.D.
• The Heroine's Journey - Maureen Murdock
• Writing Fiction, Tenth Edition: A Guide to Narrative Craft (Chicago Guides to Writing, Editing, and Publishing) - Janet Burroway
• Beyond the North Wind: The Fall and Rise of the Mystic North - Christopher McIntosh
• The Lavender Lover's Handbook: The 100 Most Beautiful and Fragrant Varieties for Growing, Crafting, and Cooking - Sarah Berringer Bader, 
• The Seven Perfumes of Sacrifice - Amy Logan
• Leaves of Grass – Walt Whitman 
• MISTY OF CHINCOTEAGUE - Margaret Henry 
• The Fern Herbal: Including the Ferns, the Horsetails, and the Club Mosses - Elfriede Martha Abbe 
• If Women Rose Rooted: A Journey to Authenticity and Belonging - Sharon Blackie
• The Mythic Moons of Avalon: Lunar and Herbal Wisdom from the Isle of Healing - Jhenah Telyndru                                                     

Rainy Day Peace

We arrived at the Cottage late today. That old rain-on-a-tin-roof lullaby made for a sound night's sleep on the Mountain, and after feeding the cats their breakfast, Rhodes and I both were lulled back to sleep. Our days have been long and sometimes hectic during this time when we are going back and forth between houses, and once or twice a week our bodies make it clear that they require some catch-up sleep. Three more weekends (including this one) before the movers carry our furniture to our new home, and I will be content when we spend our first night here.

The weather has been mostly rainy for the last few days, with a few thunder boomers thrown in for good measure. The gray sky with its various cloud formations is to me as comforting as a warm quilt, and I sometimes close my eyes and pull the sky around my shoulders to wrap myself in peace. 

When we leave the Mountain we will be leaving behind a place that kept us sheltered and isolated during a time when that was what we needed. We are going from living part way up Fork Mountain, where we were surrounded by the forest, to a life in the Swannanoa River Valley, where we have clear views of the mountains all around us. Eventually we will learn their names, but for now I am just enjoying the views and the comfort of their presence. I love the way they look with clouds settling down around them, sometimes just wispy fingers and other times covering them fully.

The rains mean I haven't had to water the gardens, but I am still checking on the plants. There are two Yucca plants near the edge of the driveway, and they have come into full bloom in the past couple of days. I have seen them along the highways in WNC, but never smelled the flowers until today. The volunteer pumpkin in the rock garden has one little baby growing already, so it is a step ahead of the giant Connecticut pumpkin plants growing in the raised bed garden. I found this odd spiky plant in the backyard, perhaps some kind of geranium? If I can identify it I'll move some of it before Rhodes starts building the deck. 

Peace out, peeps.

~sb

The Many Faces of Grief and Mental Illness

After a Lemony Snicket Series of Unfortunate Events type of Monday happened this week, I started writing a piece about the Many Faces of Mental Illness. I wrote in short bursts, but for probably a total of 10 hours between then and now (1:15 on Friday). I also wrote in my head for many additional hours. I started four separate pieces, pouring my heart and soul out along with a great deal of detail, and just couldn't find a solid direction to move in, let alone find a direction to finish a single piece.

After another such writing start today I realized that all I really need to tell you can be summed up in neat little line items. (Note, I didn't say bullet points, because #13, #15, #16.)

That a person who is grieving:

1. Might cry uncontrollably at any time, day or night, without any reason that is apparent to an observer or to that person.
2. Might seem to be functioning normally, even completing normal tasks.
3. Might not have any memory of completing those tasks.
4. Actually might not be able to complete normal tasks on any given day or night, and, in fact, might not remember the task needs to be done. 
5. Might not feel like or remember showering, or brushing their teeth, or remember that they wore that really cool Hawaiian shirt three days this week. 
6. Might not be able to get out of bed some days. 
7. Might not want to eat. 
8. Might eat too much.
9. Might be irritable or crabby.
10. Might lash out in anger that seems irrational or even volatile.
11. Might go into a rage over seemingly inane matters. 
12. Might make rage-y threats against those who harmed their deceased love one. 
13. Might engage in self harming behaviors. 
14. Might feel overwhelmed.
15. Might have suicidal ideation without actually being suicidal, and might actually be able to tell the difference; or
16. Might be suicidal and completely unable to tell the difference. 
17. Might feel hopeless.
18. Might dwell on the past.
19. Might be overcome with guilt.
20. Might not be able to sleep.
21. Might have nightmares.
22. Might sleep more than they are awake, which is not the same as not getting out of bed.
23. Might participate in new activities, which can serve as a distraction. 
24. Might spend hours binge watching television or reading in an attempt to escape their own thoughts. 
25. Might have a sudden aversion to watching television or reading because of the thoughts they stir up.
26. Might do their best to act like everything is fine and normal even when it is not, or even when it is detrimental to them to do so.
    
    Here's where it starts to get tricky, friends. Because a person who is grieving also:
27. Might smile.
28. Might laugh.
29. Might have good days.
30. Might be happy.
31. Might feel hopeful.
32. Might dare to plan for the future.
33. Might have to move forward with normal life decisions, like buying a home when their rental property is no longer available, whether or not they can handle it. 
34. Might plant a garden.
35. Might paint.
36. Might write.
37. Might socialize with friends for happy occasions. 
38. Might love.
39. Might dare to try something new.
    
    And the very trickiest thing of all:
40. Might do any or all of the above on any given minute or hour or day, in any given week, month, or year. 

I know, right? It's crazy, and can be crazy making. But I'm asking you to remember that there is no timeline for processing grief, nor is there a timeline for healing from any type of mental illness, including Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In my case, its been 858 days since my daughter died, and I've finally run out of the 800 or so days of distractions that kept me from doing the work I need to do to heal myself.

Part of that healing work is happening as a kind of companion planting. Claiming the Cottage and hoping and planning for our future here is as vital to my healing as is continuing in therapy. Every bloom, every rock put in place, every wall painted is a positive step. 

Please do your best to be mindful of what other people might be going through or processing. Please do your best to listen, and to remember to ask "how can I help."

Please do your best to be kind, always. And please, if you need help, do not hesitate to seek it.

Peace out, and blessed be.

~sb

Beautiful June

BEAUTIFUL JUNE

I woke this morning to a chorus of birdsong on the Mountain and the realization that this will be my last June wrapped in the shadows and solitude of the Pisgah National Forest gently nudged at my heart. There is no sorrow in a timely farewell, methinks. Only joy and eagerness, curiosity and yearning. I am ready for this new beginning. 

When I arrived at the Cottage I was greeted with another, slightly different chorus of birdsong. Robins, Wood Thrush, and Mockingbirds abound here. I can hear the Carolina Wrens but have yet to see one. As I set the soak hose in the pumpkin patch garden to running, a pair of Red Shouldered Hawks (Buteo lineatus) added their hunting calls to the music. I watched them circle over head in an ever moving air dance, and thought of an old favorite poem, Gerard Manley Hopkins' "The Windhover." This is an especially delightful read or read-aloud, if you are so inclined. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44402/the-windhover

The pumpkin plants are enthusiastic growers, and blossoms have appeared on them and on the cantaloupe plants as well. The corn and sunflowers are tall and strong, and the butternut squash and watermelons are working to catch up to everything else. Even the volunteer squash of unknown variety that is growing in the rock garden is blooming, and this morning I was surprised to find a single morning glory bloom among the hostas and daylilies.

I am enamored with the beauty and magics of all that is Bear Path Cottage.

Here is my own tribute to this glorious month, written June 1, 2016.

Beautiful June

You roll in here so damned sweetly,
Tempting me with your sunny ways,
Summer promises wrapped up neatly,
Conjuring up those dreamy days
Until I laugh and call, Peace,
I will join you!
Does your lure never cease?
You’ve called to me since ere I knew
That school and work would come too soon.
Dreams and hopes grow within you,
Beautiful, dreamy, blessed June!

Peace out, peeps.

~s

b