I Guess I'm Back?

During my hiatus I was considering what to tell you all about when I got back. I'm feeling overwhelmed by understanding my feelings, as they seem to feel more and more muddled and confused by the day. I feel as though I've awoken from a huge shit storm and there's debris everywhere... in my hallway, my head, my relationships; it's intensely exhausting. Some relationships have deepened and some feel miles away from a place of peace. I am questioning who I am. I am attempting on focusing on the things that give me energy; the things that are helping me cope with the chaos in my head. I have hope that allowing myself time will ease the burden of the heaviness.

That's where I am... grasping on to my sanity. Reaching to the people and things that I trust. Knitting for dear life. Doing a macrobiotic cleanse. Trying to dance and be silly with my daughter. Making plans for what I can accomplish in a day. Energizing myself with the local food movement. Trying to love and enjoy what I do. Saying goodbye to lattes for a few weeks, so sad. Loving my yoga practice, hello chest/shoulder/heart openers! Starting to journal again. Staying warm in wool socks and a nightgown. Hoping to minimize my possessions. Thinking about Control. Enjoying early morning solitude (which was just entered by a certain little monkey girl with wild bead head and a disposition of cheer).

I'm Taking A Break

I'll be back next week sometime, thanks for your patience!

Life In Video

A Nurtured Spirit

There have been a phenomenal group of you making meals for my family in the past few weeks; I think I've cooked dinner all of 5 times since my mother died. THAT is support, THAT is friendship, THAT is community. I feel INCREDIBLY thankful and blessed by all those stirring spoons, all that love and consideration and comfort brought in the form of a casserole, a stew, a meal. Some people stayed for dinner, others we went to their homes. Some dropped off and conversed, some I never even saw. Some were provided by restaurants and were a meal out with my family. They were all providing sustenance in a time of need.

I remember being at home in Brunswick and feeling the heartbreak of grief and knowing that I had a whole community offering up their wings, supporting me, holding me off the ground, keeping me safe. I feel as though I have an endless back pocket of friendship all I have to do is reach back there, call out "help!" And there you all are with little golden arms holding me so tight. I remember being completely broken and knowing that I had all of Washington County to fall into, to cushion me, to catch me, to carry me when I was ready to collapse. The last weeks have been that collapse, that falling and you've been right there catching me. Helping me. Allowing my barely functioning body to rest.

So here I am, the motherless mother, yet I reach out and there are so many caretakers right at my fingertips. So many mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers, aunties and uncles, elders and youngers and this community holds my family. This community is my family. I may miss my blood, I may miss my homes in Cumberland County, but Washington County has an awful lot of kitchen tables which I feel mighty cozy around.

Quiet On The Homefront

Birds
Garfield
Handwritten Type
Hearts
Old Hardcover Picture Books Which Still Have Their Covers
Tins
Gently and Slowly Organizing Everything
The Hiss of the Espresso Machine
Friends
Keeping a Suffering Person Close to Your Heart
Miniature Things
Feminine Crafts
Oxygen
The Messy Flight Path of a 20 Month Old
Excellent Posture
Cleaning Out That Which No Longer Serves You

One, Two, One, Two, Pee, Poop, One, Two

Our little Cecilia counts to 2, and she does it over and over and over again. In a book she'll count, "1, 2," and point at two sheep. While playing with blocks she stacks them, saying "1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2." While pulling off her socks she'll count "1! 2!" While pulling off her mittens she'll count "1! 2!" While climbing the stairs with me she'll chant, "1. 2. 1. 2. 1. 2. 1. 2. Pee. Poop. (look up at me grinning) 1. 2. 1. 2." While hanging out she'll go "Pee, Poop," and then make a tremendous farting noise with her mouth and look at us laughing ear to ear with the hysterical joke that she just made. Because potty humor is hysterical, let's face it! 1, 2, 1, 2, Pee, Poop, 1, 2!

Staying Open

This is a point in which I feel a new wave. A wave of action, rearrangement, reclaiming, conflict even. There are emotions and opinions outside of the monumental cloak of grief again. Suddenly there are events more recent and more demanding than that of the loss of my mother's life. The shock of the accident is passed and there is room to question and room to remember all the important events of other people's lives. It's easy to be torn between moving forward in life and being stuck in sadness. It's easy to be torn between being open to those around you and closing down within yourself. It may feel safer to close up your emotions, it may be easier for most to continue on.

I feel lost in all of that, I feel confused. Sometimes all I want to do is lay on the couch and bathtub and bedroom, but I also want to reclaim my home, my family, my life. I want to knit and redecorate and create a sanctuary for my family. I want to create a home that feels like walking into a vacation; that feels cozy and comfy and smells wonderful and is uncluttered. My house feels very cluttered, very full, very stagnant; my desire is to open up the energy system of my home. To Feng Shui the shit out of it. To tidy and declutter and create storage. Simple lines, clean surfaces, no clutter. Add one 20 month-old, one 346 month-old, one 420 month old and whoever happens to walk in the door at whatever moment and you get a whole house of piled corners. As it's really in none of our natures to fight that particular kind of chaos daily... weekly or monthly perhaps, but to daily fight chaos? Not us particularly. So here I am trying to open up and create some elbow room.

I'm also attempting to open up my heart center in yoga these days, I even applied it while walking through town with a 25 pound monkey on your back. I have been applying the bridge to my body for months now, and done a few fish pose, even a camel or two. However I've been afraid to attempt an inverted table, and on Friday I conquered that fear. I opened, was strong without quiver and flexible. I was grinning ear to ear in it. I even learned a life lesson as I felt a pang in my right shoulder and realized I could simply redistribute my weight into the more flexible areas of my body. I realized that my body is one system composed of many different pieces and when one piece of your body is sensitive you create a gentler relationship with that piece. I then thought to myself, I can apply this thought to the relationships in my life as well and can protect myself within a difficult relationship, whether it be a person, caffeine, or cleaning my home. We are learning together to be careful with one another out of love and opening our hearts in the process. (fingers crossed!)

Where Is The Snow?

We have cold, we have frozen, we're all bundled up, but where is the snow? There is something extra lonely about a winter without snow, about a hard frozen ground with the debris of summer and fall projects on it that make me long for the beauty that the snow brings. The quiet that the insulating layer of white holds. The joy of bundling and trudging and pulling out your true winter gear. I feel like we're still just playing at winter right now, my snowpants in storage. I of course do not miss driving in the stuff, or being careful not to slip on the ice, it's certainly safer to have bare roads, but I miss the calming beauty.

I feel as though it would be somehow easier to be this sad if there were blankets of snow around me. The landscape looks so barren, and well... dead right now. The solitude of winter is helped along by the whiteness, the reflection of light, the hope that it will all melt. A little bit of snow feels like a cozy blanket covering all of us. It feels like a comfort at an uncomfortable time. Bring on a blizzard, bring on the trudging, bring on the cold, bring on the bundling! Remind me of a primitive time of survival, remind me how to hunker down into my seed catalogs and dream of springtime. Hold my hand through this sadness, just bring me some snow to fall into, to lick off my mittens, to knit for, to throw snowballs in, to have a child's wonder watching it fall out my window. Trap me in my house for a fortnight, give me reasons to stay in pjs all day. Let me feel awe when I see an animal track, help me get my snowshoes on! Bring on the snow! Let it fall, allow it to cover us, let it hold my hand, allow me to ice skate with her once again.

Things I Do To Stay Connected

I knit with her needles and wonder what kinds of patterns she would choose (at my age, fair isles with fingerling yarn, at her age, stretchy colorful stretchy cottons).

Bagels and morning coffee.

Talk and yak and talk some more.

Listen to Joni Mitchell.

Think about cooking and teaching myself all of her recipes.

Light candles and put fresh tablecloths on the table.

Put on my grandmother's sweaters.

Reach out to family.

Play with Cecilia.

Be honest.

Support

I am feeling blessed by my friendships this morning. There are women and men in my life who know how to listen to me; who know how to talk to me; who know when to reach out. In my doldrums of sadness yesterday I rolled from one friendship to the next, with my daughter fast to my hip and we all got through together. On a day that I felt more loneliness than I've ever felt before I was surrounded by love and help and companionship.

Life may feel impenetrable at the present moment, but I can feel thankful. I can feel moments of joy. I can find productivity. I can function and I can find the little routines that help me to do that. I can find the places that help. Cecilia and I can take a bath together and listen to Joan Baez. We can walk to South Street Greenhouse and play in the sand, climb around and stare at chickens. I can drink a latte. I can knit. We can watch Sesame Street. I can cry. These are coping mechanisms that I know how to utilize.

Inhale. Exhale. That's another tool.

Today.

-I woke up in an emotional aloneness (that is not a word, but a new feeling for me).

-Shortly the depression I thought was debilitating me was actually crippling sadness.

-I gave Ce her own sketchbook and chair at her little desk next to my desk.

-I am totally overwhelmed by housekeeping.

-I will take a hot bath.

-I will go for a walk.

-I will start a new knitting project.

-I will drink 3 lattes, 3 glasses of water, 1 glass of cider and 1 honey-vinegar tonic.

-I will feel thankful for all the love in my life.

-I will miss your phone call Mumma.