free falling

I walk in circles around my work desk eating a banana. Twice I walk around limping a bit because my right knee is hurt. The knee was sore and achy before I pushed it through a thirteen mile run and now I'm paying for it. I can feel it healing though. As I move around in my circle eating my banana, I can feel the pain lessening.

The colorful leaves came and now they have fallen. I wasn't expecting to like the looks of these bare trees as much as I do at the moment, but I have to say I do feel comforted by them. I'm liking their rawness, they are so strong to brave these colder months completely naked.

The sun sets as I leave work. There will be a little bit of daylight left once I pull out of the parking lot, but once I hit Eastern Boulevard it is dark and head light after head light shines brightly in my eyes. Lately I've noticed my drive homes being full of thought, my head in the clouds. I'll come to my senses at a point and realize- wow, I've been driving in silence, I got myself from this point and to that point without even realizing it. I'll lose myself again- thinking, thinking, thinking and then before I know it, I'm pulling into my mother-in-laws drive way. I turn the engine off and swallow in the cold, gusty air as I open my car door. Inside I go in search of my daughter so I can give her a kiss on her beautiful rosy cheek.

This weather is forcing us inside but my body doesn't feel like hunkering down, it doesn't feel like covering up. And winter seems to be a time to be sedentary in a sense but my spirit wants none of that.

And it is all very funny because I wrote that a few weeks ago and right now all I want is to be still with my family and watch a festive holiday movie all snuggled up. I feel so grateful for them and to everyone else and it is cold and dreary outside and I am tired.

seasons

Our dog has been my teacher lately. And so has my daughter. Simone continues to remind me of the powerful wisdom she holds of living in the present moment. A few weeks ago she helped with breaking the ice after a frustrating morning walk to the beach with my family---on the way we had learned we forgot the pale and shovel-- Simone was walking too fast on her leash--Sage was whiny --raindrops were slowly falling out of the clouds and onto our heads---I had originally envisioned this walk to the ocean to be much more pleasant. Our moods were not good when we reached the shoreline. I laid out a blanket for us and hoped these bad feelings would melt away and pass as fast as the clouds above us. Simone sat down beside me but quickly decided to get up and walk to the ocean. She slowly let her paws get wet and then all of a sudden that was it--her furry body was leaping into the waves. We watched as her golden coat merged into a dark brown color and her legs moved so instinctively in the water as she paddled into the current- every movement of hers was like medicine to our souls. I looked over at Kyle and smiled and realized that was all we needed. We were by the ocean, our feet were in the sand, the sun was beginning to peek out through the clouds and pour warmth onto our shoulders. We were here together right now in this moment and I could see happiness begin to fill us.

I pulled into the park last week with Sage after a day of packing. Her little body needed to release some energy and I felt anxious to get her to a playground to run around. As I turned the corner though I saw there was a family reunion going on under the park pavilion and immediately a bad word came out of my mouth. I didn't have the energy to socialize with park strangers and I told Sage we were going to go to another park. But then I heard, "Don't be scared, Mommy. They're our friends- don't be scared of our friends. It will be fine." And my heart melted and I knew she was so right. She is such a gem, my greatest treasure.

 We have officially moved off the farm and will be spending a couple months with family to figure out our next move. I thought I would be carrying around more sadness after saying goodbye to that place but it turns out I'm not feeling much of that at all. After we had packed and cleaned everything out, I went around to each room and said thank you. Thank you for keeping us safe. Thank you for adding inspiration into my life. I walked to the door and took a nice long look at the large cluster of windows facing the west. They were always my favorite feature.  When I looked at them, I felt them give me an encouraging hug to get out. Leave!...go!...I felt them say. You guys weren't happy here on this land anymore- go find your happiness--- go learn and grow away from this farm. Go on an adventure- go meet new people-go watch the sun set from another place! And swooooosh- their energy lovingly turned by body around towards the outside. I walked out and shut the door and never even felt the urge to look back.

road signs

I left work and rolled down my car windows. Moving from the cold air conditioned office to this summer warmth feels so good.  As I reverse out of my parking spot, I watch as goosebumps rise on my arms and swear my body is saying 'thank you' in someway.  It tells me, 'Thank you' for moving us into a more natural environment.  I only have about three minutes of this good feeling before the heat begins to consume me and sweat starts to build up on my forehead. I turn right heading towards the highway feeling wisps of my hair flying wildly in the wind. I watch as my hand floats in the tunnel of air through my side mirror.

Modest Mouse tunes pull in through my ears and tug on my heart strings. This band seems to resurface in nostalgia induced moments- or when thoughts seem heavy. In this case, the thoughts inspired their words and rhythm to spill out again.  Inspiration, excitement, sadness, frustrations- it's all swirling around right here.

I've been taking notes. Twenty-six years in and I've been thinking: this world is a bewildering place. The highs and lows involved, the ebb and flow of everything. We all have to be so strong and bold. Some people have to be so, so strong it brings tears to my eyes. I just don't understand.

I've been thinking about change. Change is inevitable. It can come in many forms and being afraid of change is not a healthy or productive thing to be scared of.

high waters

The rain fell hard in the middle of the night. It pounded on our roof and made it seem like each drop was leaving its own impression on the gravel outside our window. The rush of water created a small pond under the gutter attached to the barn, and gusts of wind blew raindrops in through the window that were cold and surprising as they touched my face and arms. We closed our windows in a bit. Kyle was a little worried about the chickens outside in the field. He rolled over and hoped aloud that their coop wasn't going to hold water. Geeze- me too, I thought to myself. What a terrible sight to wake up to in the morning if that were the case.

Farming is a hard job. And sometimes sad. I think I've mention this before, but it truly is. I've been observing the sad element the most this season as I watch Kyle deal with unwanted animals either killing his own chickens or eating his crops. It's a blow to the spirit when you spend all this time planting vegetables from the greenhouse into the earth and then come out to see they were ruined the night before. All that work...

This year, too, we've had a couple chickens become sick. They seem to be withering away. A call has to be made. Someone has to deal with them and release them from this world. Someone has to dig a hole for their body. Farming is hard and sad sometimes.

We have been waiting patiently for our strawberries to come in. Sage is excited and calls them candy. I let her know it's nature's candy. The best candy. And then I feel this overwhelming amount of pressure to serve her little body right when it comes to the food I choose to put in front of her. She's no longer a baby- I can't just mash up a concoction of super foods with a sprinkle of chia seeds and spoon feed her every single bite.  She's developed a mind of her. A mind that seems to overpower me some days.
 This is part of the hardships of parenting, I tell myself. This is when I learn to fill my body with patience.
 Then a more pleasant moment will arise- a moment where I can sit with my almost- three- year- old and feel her brain taking in my thoughts as I explain the nourishing properties of the food I have for her. I tell her 'this will help your eyes see clearly...this will help your beautiful blonde hair grow down your precious back.'

Summer has arrived. I've been blissfully taking in the last one we will spend here on this farm- I sunbath near the llamas and laugh to myself as they snort at each other behind me. Occasionally I have to scare off chickens that roam around and try to peck me. The whole scenario seems perfect to me, so fitting for this place. When Sage ventures out we talk about dragons that spit out friendly fires. The kind that can painlessly dry up the tears from her cheeks if she happens to fall down and hurt her knees. She believes all the churches in town are castles and likes to pretend she is a bird with glittery wings that can fly high into the trees. I love how she views the world right now. Her thoughts always make my day more beautiful.

defrosting

The official day to spring arrived with warmer winds and a blue sky full of those beautiful, puffy clouds. The ones that as a kid made my imagination wonder- the ones that as I get older still make my imagination wonder. I went on a nice long run through town that day. My ears heard my music loud and my funky leggings graced the main street proudly. I ran fast and confidently embracing the sweat that ran down the sides of my forehead and the warmth of the sun as it pierced through my t-shirt and touched my shoulder. It seemed with each step I took I could feel a rejuvenating effect occurring. It was as if the shift in seasons was giving me consent to recalculate. Tulips were even starting to bloom in the park.

More snow came the next day, though. I've been wondering about those tulips. May be they just withered down once the snow hit and will reshape when it warms up again. Like humans, those flowers must be resilient beings. I can't wait to go back and check on them.

 Sage makes me laugh. She is so precious to me. I know her little body is excited to get back outside so she can play and run fast. Running fast around our apartment is a favorite hobby of hers. Not only does she enjoy "running fast"- she also enjoys making random fake burp sounds. She'll make the sound- giggle- and then let us know she "burped". I think she may have picked this up from her new little friends.

Before I became a mother, I always thought I would enjoy the baby stage the most with my children. I was actually scared and turned off with the idea of being a mother to any kid above the age of two. I see now my whole thought process with that was all wrong. While I will always treasure my baby Sage- I absolutely love watching her grow. I love watching our own relationship grow.

I see more and more she is just like me. We are obviously on different paths, but the two of us together are figuring out this life thing. We are both eager to learn and full of wanderlust.

And besides her eyes still give me glimpses of the days when she was a baby. They're still blue and shaped like almonds and make me feel like I am the most beautiful person to her. Sometimes I feel a little sad when she looks at me like this because I sense she thinks I have all the answers, but I just don't.

southern roots

I left only for a night but now that I'm back home and rested, I feel like I was gone for a week. This trip was a special one. I got to navigate around airports by myself with wide-open eyes- listening to my favorite music; in pursuit of dear friends I haven't seen in years. Once I got to them each one unraveled to me significant events that had happened to them since the last time we had been together. My brain felt like a sponge and I thought of my daughter as I diligently soaked in everything. Their stories were so meaningful to me. And now that I'm home I feel I read through six good books that weekend.

One is married; two are engaged; one can dance around so gracefully with the soccer ball, she plays professionally; another is starting to really open up and find herself; and the friend I knew the least about just watched her precious father die two weeks ago. Tears never even came close to escaping her eyes when talking about the experience. She explained that she knew it was coming and was prepared. I was taken back by her strength and the powerful statements she made, like:  "I feel I haven't slept for six months. I'm so ready to sleep now." 



















All night I felt like I was being hugged by the warm winter winds. We celebrated our friendships at a bar that reminded me of a tree house. The lighting was perfect and I couldn't help but notice all the naturally beautiful people around me. We migrated next into the city where the big buildings surrounded us.

The next afternoon as we all packed up to head back to our homes, we promised to reconnect much sooner the next time. Four years from now would just be way too long.

I put my headphones on once I was at the airport- excited to take in the final part of this little adventure I was on. Feist came on..."I feel it all. I feel it all." I thought of my family. I was happy to be heading to them. And then I thought of heartstrings. It's so interesting how you feel like your own heart is running around in your children. You don't want to be away from them for long. I took a short nap on the plane ride home and met Kyle outside. As the car pulled up, I noticed immediately he gave himself a hair cut and it looked so good. It's shorter and reminds me of when we first met. I put my bag in the backseat and hopped in the car- feeling thankful for the people in my life right now and excited for the friendships I have not made yet.

in focus

I've been feeling myself being pulled to this little space of mine for weeks now.  Sometimes I wonder exactly what I want to say---and then I start typing and the little roads that seem so hopelessly blocked in my head, open right up. Suddenly I gain a better understanding. I've always envied this 'therapeutic super power' in people that enjoy writing. Piecing together words is not just their art form- but also a means to deal and decipher and make sense of things. I think I'm discovering I may have a little bit of this power embedded in me. I certainly don't know all the proper rules involved with writing, but I do know I appreciate how it makes me feel.

Lately I've been thinking about how good of a decision going back to work was for my twenty something year old self. That and starting to attend work-out classes regularly at my local gym. There is something inspirational and, honestly, a little spiritual I find in working out with a group of middle-aged women. We know very little about each other but share a collective goal in wanting to strengthen our bodies. Together we stretch our heavy resistant bands, listen to hip-hop remixes and watch our curvy selves' move this way and that in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. By the end of the class, we are sweaty and tired, but also rejuvenated and damn thankful we got our asses there.

Parenthood has been an interesting ride recently. There are both challenging parts and such pretty parts. The whole experience is better than I ever imagined- but also a lot harder, too. If that makes any sense. I'm understanding that finding the best road to my own personal growth and goals outside of being a mother isn't the straightest one. There are some side roads I have to get off in order to take the best care of my little girl and family. I need to be patient. That main road will wait around. The opportunity for growth will always be there and I really like that fact.