Red Angel

So fellow travelers, when I reach the edge of emotional resilience nature is the sanctuary which brings my energy back to  center. 

One special find on the Acadia trip.

In general, I proactively make healing time in nature a regular part of my routine, even if it’s just the daily walk times with our dog. Since our  return from the early October trip to Acadia, my creative focus has been in total disarray just like the trip’s blog entry which remains in narrative limbo. Like the haze from wildfires, there is a peripheral anxiety which permeates my days and a growing awareness that this energy I am feeling is far larger than my own. It comes in unrelenting waves so persistent I have been pushed to seek a more powerful arsenal of coping practices. That quest has led me to profound discoveries about myself, which in turn have brought me to a place of clarity about what’s happening in the world around me as well. This awareness has not quite coalesced into description yet, but a moment on a long hike created an experience which reflects what it feels like.

Trekking along a path, my dog and I rounded a corner and there, illuminated by a ray of sunlight, was a tiny red angel standing perfectly upright among the fallen leaves. Feelings quickly flowed into these words

This one chose to stand
small but fiery bright lit by
compassion and love

The world is changing; there are multiple narratives playing out. We are alive in this crucial turning point for a reason. That reason differs for each of us and none of us can say what is true for anyone but our own self. Yet collectives are made of individuals so the choices we each make matter more than we give ourselves credit for. There is power inherent in every act of kindness and compassion, in each word spoken to raise awareness of injustice and each hand extended in peace. The power of many individual actions builds into a wave  which can overcome fear and hatred with the unstoppable force of unified Love.

I’ve only surfed a handful of times, but if the tide is changing and surf’s up, I’m willing to ride the waves.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

Deep Dive

So fellow travelers, as we hit the long slippery slope leading to election day here in the not-so-United States I reached a point of near desperation to comprehend what madness is driving the hatred flying around.

When the demise of my 02RavCamper kept me home bound for several weeks back in September, I found myself needing a diversion to ward off the depression brewing from giving up several weeks of camping plans. Since retiring last June, I’ve looked forward to Fall camping because this year I could finally camp for  long stretches of weekdays when the campgrounds and trails are quieter. While my search for an affordable vehicle did take up much of my focus, I found myself with just enough spare time to become increasingly aware of the high emotions flying around as election campaigns ramped up, inspite of my consciousness choice to limit time on social media or TV news.

“Get Curious,” is a phrase I hear often from a trusted mentor in personal development. As a kid with an insatiable curiosity about everything I was often told I asked “too many questions.” Finding a path of growth where curiosity is not only encouraged but brilliantly supported has been a gift beyond measure.

So, what better way to master the anxiety driven by vitriolic emotions than taking a deep dive into the psychology of hate. It’s like the moment just before I start a particularly challenging hike.

Until I take the first few steps there’s always the option to get back in the car and drive to a diner for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. But, seriously, I’ve come all this way, going back without exploring what’s ahead just seems pointless. Those first few yards on the trail become my commitment to take on the challenge and meet the source of any fear head on. And that pie and coffee will be waiting when I get back down. (Photo: Blue Mountain Trail hiked in August 2018)

The past six weeks certainly have been vastly different from my original plans for this first Autumn in retirement. To be honest, this research “dive” into the psychology of hate has been exhausting and would have been impossible to manage if I was still working. I regret nothing, not the sleepless nights, not the painful personal insights, not the intense frustration of even needing to be excavating this graveyard of systemic dysfunction. I am exhausted yet profoundly grateful to have reached a point of comprehension.

Earlier today I came across this quote from Neale Donald Walsh which summarizes my conclusions:
The impulse to help each other is built into our genes; it is coded within our species. We have a “soul contract” to help each other. I’m convinced of it. We all, each of us, feel this impulse.”1
I know the immediate reaction is to think it’s impossible to believe this is true for people spreading hatred and engaging in violence.

However, the deeper I dove into the research on hatred the more evident it became that because humans are “wired” for connection, whenever we deny it and try to cut off that connection, it creates a downward spiral of shame, guilt and eventually an overwhelming fear. Left unacknowledged and unhealed those feelings fester until they explode as anger. On some level we have all been in that spiral; part of my exploration has been uncovering and healing those emotions within my own psyche. 

Understanding this has allowed me to step back from engaging directly in the fight around me. It is futile to try reasoning with anyone living with that level of fear and it is not effective to employ guilt in an attempt to change people already steeped in shame. People acting out of hatred are always in a defensive mode and that is not a state of being conducive to change.

Understanding does NOT mean I accept hatred nor does it absolve people who have chosen violence, oppression and fear mongering. Understanding has simply given me an acute awareness of when engaging is a waste of precious energy, energy better directed towards being an active participant in the kind of society I want to live in.

Angel sighting Sunset view from Cadillac Mountain Acadia Natl.Park 9.30.2020

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

 

1 The Storm Before The Calm. Book One: Conversations with Humanity series. Neale Donald Walsh. Random House Publishing

Autumn Flags

So fellow travelers, the colors of my favorite season are peaking here in Upstate New York.

Autumn waves its flags
releasing what’s done with ease
with joy I follow

This glorious season of ephemeral beauty and joy is too brief to spend indoors. The Acadia trip posts will just have to wait.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

The Road Forward

So fellow travelers, September continued with it’s theme of significant losses. Thankfully, by Divine Grace, none were from the living. Still, the loss of a companion of a different sort created a domino sequence of changes which has yet again altered my path forward.

Farewell Little Blue RaVan

On the first evening of Autumn, after bidding farewell to the little blue Rav which has been my camping haven through this summer of disorienting losses I walked to a nearby road and watched the sun set. Once a year, the setting sun aligns exactly with the gap at the far end of this road and turns it into a golden pathway.

There’s a moment when
all comes in alignment and
the path turns to gold

In a year which has brought changes of a magnitude no one could possibly have accurately foretold, this ninth month became a crossroad from which there is no turning back. And as the saying goes, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way


Stretching Time

 So fellow travelers,  flipping the calendar a few days ago brought a moment of peace I was deeply grateful to take in~

For the first time in 21 years,  turning the calendar to August did not generate a rush of urgency fueled by the impossibility of “fitting in” all my planned adventures in the remaining weeks before going back to work at the end of summer.
Yes, eventually summer heat will give way to the welcome crisp air of Autumn, my favorite season for hiking and camping. However, this year, the end of summer does not bring an end to my free time because I retired last June. So I stood for a few minutes and looked with profound gratitude at August’s small white squares of days so graciously open to possibilities.
Of course as Pandemic2020 rages on in these not so United States of America, possibilities are not as easily translated into plans.  In this too, being retired has helped me embrace the simple joy of stepping into each day with a heart open to what the day has to offer. That is a big (but very welcome) shift for an organized, over-thinker who makes lists and starts packing weeks before a trip. 
In fact as I write this post, Isaias’ path up the Atlantic coast has shifted westward just enough to dump “tropical rainfall” here, which means delaying my intended departure perhaps until tomorrow for this week’s camping trip. No worries- my favorite little campsite is reserved through the end of the week and waits, just like Inner Peace, for me to show up and claim it.

Walk gently on the path, my friends and let Love light the way.

Mother’s Day 2020

So fellow travelers, pandemics, physical distancing and unseasonal weather are only one aspect of our current reality.  To honor all that Mother’s Day means to me – this Haiku

 Snow falls cold winds blow
Yet spring flowers bravely bloom
Hope and Love stand strong

Blessings of peace and joy to all mothers here and in heaven.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Snow Quest

So fellow travelers, February turned into a long, dark month. 

Winter made a roaring comeback complete with winds howling in delight at our delusions of a “mild winter.” Even leap year’s extra day in this shortest of months seemed an added mockery. Displays of forced spring bulbs in my local grocery stores felt like false promises in the face of so much loss around me. 

So many, too many, grieving friends.


One friend lost his only child, a beautiful young woman just a few years older than our own older daughter. One rushed to be with another friend facing her final hours shortly after receiving a fatal diagnosis. One was blind sided by a sudden job loss. Several friends said goodbye to cherished four legged companions.

And there is our neighbors’ house, which stands shrouded in mournful tarps, scorched black by a terrible fire in late January. Thankfully the young couple, their children and both dogs all escaped without harm but they just found out the house has been declared a total loss. They have lost most of their  possessions and they had to make the heartbreaking decision to give up their dogs for adoption because they no longer have a home. Broken windows and doors have been boarded up to prevent vandalism, still, we keep a watchful eye on the property. Kid and dog toys lay scattered in the yard, the baby’s swing hangs empty, daily reminders of a life so fiercely and suddenly disrupted.

Sometimes there are no words to ease the intense grief of sudden loss. So for five weeks, while I navigated the ice dam of emotions. silence reigned my creative space. Until yesterday, when a message sent me 35 miles west on a quest to find something marvelous.

Those specs in the sky are hundreds, maybe thousands,  of Snow Geese (Chen caerulescens) arriving at a wetland north of Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge. Delilah and I arrived just in time to catch this wave of migrating visitors seeking a resting place for the night. Although I only had my phone to capture photos and a short video*, a good pair of binoculars (which are always in my car) verified these were indeed Snow (not Canada) geese. The vast flock, gracefully swirling back and around, sent waves of calls across the shallow water. Wild music punctuated, by the dissonant squawking of resident gulls displeased at being ousted from the mudflats each time a band of geese would come to rest. As the sun slipped closer to the horizon, the marsh began to glow with a magical amber light and the white wings of the snow geese took on a soft rosy tint.

It was a wondrous, miraculous moment and as light faded, I drove home finally having found words to speak, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

*(short video can be found at this link : https://youtu.be/1fhBgofT9OM )

Living in a Snow Globe

So fellow travelers, the Big News in our corner of the Upstate neighborhood is that our city is BEHIND in the annual Golden Snowball Race.

For those who don’t reside in the snowbelt of Upstate NY ( which I think the majority of my readers can gratefully say they do not) the Golden Snowball is an award given to the Upstate NY city with the highest snow total by the end of the season. The contenders are Syracuse, Buffalo, Rochester, Albany and Binghamton. Buffalo always starts out strong (the epic storm in 2014 for example) but Syracuse holds the record for most wins thanks to the “slow but steady” accumulation which runs right through March. Lake Erie packs a punch, but Lake Ontario’s back breaking consistency (everyone in the Greater Syracuse area knows not to put those snow shovels away until after Mother’s Day) plows us towards a win year after year. Hence the reason my neighbors and I are always grateful when another city runs ahead of us or wins. Congrats to Buffalo on that 118.8″ total for 2018-19 which beat the Syracuse total by a full 3.8 inches! and hey Go Rochester currently leading the race at 61.4″ so far !

What? there is other Big News I “should” be attending to? Not today, thank you. Sundays are my sacred space days when the choices I make are intended to lower my blood pressure by raising the joy quotient in my life. Call me an escapist but this is how I keep my sanity.

So I honestly felt a warm burst of gratitude as I stood in my back yard this morning, listening to the quiet bubbling of the pond “percolators” delivering life sustaining oxygen to the fish below the frozen surface. “Breathe… breathe… breathe…” they murmured, as tiny flakes of snow began to drift down from the sky.






White icy kisses
Softly tumble from the sky
Swirling all around

Life inside a snowglobe… and hey the season has a long way to go. Every sparkling flake counts.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

Christmastide

So fellow travelers, Christmas morning dawns today with radiant Light

Although our kids will not be with us this year, I am profoundly happy they are celebrating together in PDX and we will open presents with them via Skype later today.
And I am deeply grateful to be at my parents’ home for Christmas this year.

It has been over thirty years since I opened presents with my parents on Christmas morning. Back in 1986 they joined me and my husband for our first Christmas in our new house in Upstate New York- the house we still call home, where we raised our daughters creating so many special Christmas memories over the years.

This afternoon our kids will join the family gathering at my brother’s home to share Christmas greetings via video on our phones. I am grateful for the technology which will make it possible to be connected when I might otherwise feel so far away from them. It is a distance which I plan to bridge in the coming year.

As I watched the sun rise through the window where my parents little tree glowed surrounded by many presents, words of gratitude began to speak from deep in my heart.

Of all the gifts beneath the tree
I know the best is yet to be
For later on our family
will gather with much revelry
Joy and laughter will resound with
presents passing all around and
warm thank you hugs we will exchange
and pause to reach for who remains
as memories within our hearts
be near or far, no distance parts
for Love transcends and outlasts time
the greatest gift to yours and mine.

Walk gently on the path my fellow travelers and may this season of Light bless you and yours with peace and love and joy.

First Light

So fellow travelers, I woke early on the morning of the Winter Solstice to watch the sunrise and witnessed a beautiful cascade of changing colors. The waning crescent moon seemed to smile as darkness gently gave way to light. This first day of winter, marking the return of Light.

Moon smiles morning blush
First Light brings solstice blessings
Winter pause begins

It took a few days to translate the moment into words- the first two lines came immediately, however expressing the essence of winter in five simple syllables required a bit more pondering. For me Winter has always been a time to synthesize the lessons of the previous year, to gain perspective, set goals and gather resources for the intentions set for the New Year. It is an essential pause in my ongoing journey to wherever it is this adventure of life is leading me.

2009-2019

Reflecting on this year, which also marks the end of a decade, I find myself ready to let the lessons of the past become the momentum for my new intentions. We don’t move forward if we always look back and I am looking forward to a new chapter in my life. Adventure calls and I intend to be ready.

Blessings of this season be with you all. May Light grace your holiday celebrations and carry you into a bright new decade of hope and joy.