But using the word “journey” implies movement, so I take another step and focus on “there WAS ONCE a time…” and allow myself, my body, to feel the passage of time. The changing of the people I claim as family. The miracle of finding those who also claim me as their own. Yes, there was once a time. It has passed. What remains is to be brave and step into what is, now.
Late Autumn is, in the words of Maia Toll, a “time between endings and new beginnings, the liminal space within our own heart is most easily accessed.” Toll encourages us: “Give yourself room to dream into this deeply mystical season.”
Little Miss Figgy Withit is the first tree I have grown. She will, theoretically, outlive me. Taking care of a living being that will continue after I’ve died is new to me. I once had property that I felt stewardship over, but the trees were well-established, and I spent more time cutting back nature than encouraging it to grow. This is different.
The transition from womb to world is not a singular moment. The fetus is biologically preparing for that event months before it happens. They are prepared to bond with their mother differently once born. They do not expect that the nourishment they have received for 9 months will suddenly not exist. They do not expect to be permanently separated from their mother.
Sometimes when I’m struggling with less than stellar mental health, I hear a gentle voice talking me through it. Usually, a simple sentence or two nudges me enough to break out of the mental loop. Over the years, I’ve tried to capture those words.
At first, I had the Trinity: three habits I treated with a sanctity warranted by the level of importance to my life. Then I had the Core Four. The list grew from the Sacred Seven to 11 to 12 to 15…When it worked, it was a beautiful thing. When it didn’t… well, let’s just say it was counterproductive to creating a life of harmony balanced with my core values.
It’s fascinating to see the evolution of our environmental-based approach to consumerism threaded through these shifting models. The solutions to climate change must start with changing our paradigm. Without respect for the planet and the others we share it with, without rethinking consumerism on a deeper level, we will not create lasting sustainable change.
Grief is like an ever-present fog. Sometimes it grows wispy and light, and the ache attaches to a sense of beauty and awe. That familiar painful knowing that this world is magical precisely because it is fleeting. Other times, it sinks low and heavy, making it difficult to navigate the day, replacing wonder with the weight of absence and loss.
The Look Here file was initially created because my perceptions can be unreliable when I’m struggling with mental health issues. I need an outside influence to tether me to reality when I can’t trust my own brain to do so. And it needs to be something specific to what happens in my world when things are starting to untether.
In her sermon titled We Shall Go Forth, Reverend Lo from the Unitarian Universalist Church in Eugene speaks of wanting to build a wall of lamentation, a place to help with “the inlay of compounded fractures and compounded grief in our lives. There’s something about that ritual of writing down one’s prayers or wishes, or even the things one wishes to let go of or release, and placing them in the cracks of a wall.…