Reflections from a midlife journey
Own what you know
In the pursuit of knowledge what we often overlook is the knowledge we already have—not just in the form of external information but also the knowledge gleaned from our own thoughts, feelings, felt senses, and experiences. Tapping into that wellspring of information very often gives us the answer we are looking for.
The skinny branches
Like so many, I have felt saddened and overwhelmed by recent events. As well, I have felt clumsy and incompetent in how I can help. I feel very much like those tender leaves at the ends of the skinny branches—exposed, fearful, and uncertain at being pushed out past the edge of my comfort zone.
The illusion of separation
Of all the things that can keep us stuck in our lives, the belief that we are alone in our experiences can stop us dead in our tracks. Believing we are alone not only keeps us separate from other people but also, and most importantly, it keeps us separate from our true self.
Lying fallow
This winter has been rough and not in the way you might think. The weather outside has been relatively tame. There aren’t feet of snow piled up—not even inches. In fact, there have been days when it’s been downright balmy. No, the tempest that’s been wreaking havoc has been happening inside me.
A prayer for the passing year
Earlier this month, I spent a couple weeks participating in an online course about making space for the new year. The first week was a beautiful unfolding of letting go of the current year that included forgiveness and reconciliation as well as affirming what we were grateful for. My favorite day, though, was when we were invited to consider how we would like to say farewell to 2019.
In the shadow of comfort
We all have innate gifts whether we are conscious of them or not. If we are aware of our gifts, we can use them in service to ourselves as well as to others. But when we’re asleep to our gifts, they can be a detriment to our own well being.
The space of change
A few weeks ago a photo from when my husband and I moved into our new house came up as a memory on Facebook. The picture reminded me of an exchange we had last year when this anniversary rolled around. My husband commented on how many changes we had made to the house in those couple of years. I responded with how much the house had changed us. What I realize now is that the space hasn’t changed me but rather it’s the space I needed to change.
Letting love lead
For almost as long as we have had our beloved rescue dog McKenna, my husband has wanted a second dog. I understood why and was empathetic to his desire. However, I believed that saying “yes” to a second dog would mean saying “no” to me.
Navigating transition
July was a month of loss. Four souls in my larger circle passed away. I was doing pretty well being with the loss and staying present to my feelings until the news of last death. That one pushed me over the emotional edge and suddenly I was eight years old again. It’s my experience with this loss and the change it affected on my life that established the pattern for how I would handle transitions from then on.
Seen and celebrated
A tiny, funky cabin in the Oregon Outback. One room with a water closet and kitchenette, and an old Frigidaire mini refrigerator sitting on top of a low table across from the foot of the bed. Poorly sealed doors (the threshold of one having completely fallen off) and ripped window screens (on those windows that actually had screens) gave the flies and other bugs easy access to the inside. And the room was hot with the sun beating in the south- and west-facing windows, and the ceiling fan doing little to move the still air.
This was the start to my surprise birthday weekend getaway that my husband had sweetly planned months in advance. The sad, neglected cabin was just the first surprise that day.