The past few days have been a struggle. Seasonal depression or hormones playing havoc within, reasons unknown, my mind has traversed the thorny path of negative emotions; from anger to senseless resentment to the dangerous urge to disconnect; to unplug from human emotions and interactions. Human connections disappoint is the intrusive thought at the moment. And yet, self awareness lends the wisdom to know otherwise and like a mantra I repeat to myself, 'They are, therefore I am.'
Thank you! I saw the prompt and felt that I should be authentic and write on how I truly feel. Its my natural reaction too :) Thanks for your thoughtful comment.
I don't know if this is a poem but it felt like it as I was writing. There is something special and primeval about the first snow. It caught me off guard.
First Snow-
The gracious gift of snow, full and light, calms my soul.
I can stand still amidst the fury of my mind,
my heart reaching always for something more.
I can watch and sense the totality of the air
and its gentleness as the flakes like feathers fall.
Like flowing water, I am entranced by the rhythm that meets me,
ethereal and timeless.
And yet, this snow is late, like it has been for the last decade.
Once the arrival came near Halloween, now it’s Thanksgiving.
Can we change our lives to meet this new reality?
Like the flights of geese or the squirrel’s gathering of food,
will they change in time for our new climate?
Being aware is the first step to adaptation, my intuition says.
If we listen with our whole heart and mind to Nature’s expressions everywhere, it continues.
But for now, this snow has me settled. I am weightless in time.
However you categorize it, it is lovely... Like the first snow. I used to live in Canada, and it has been a few years since I have seen snow. I loved this!
Connection with life and living things helps to give our lives meaning and purpose.
But what does "connection" mean?
I feel grateful for Pepper, my cat. The connection I have with her helps me feel needed. She looks at me with such anticipation and love in her eyes when it is time for food or brushing or when she just wants me to stop for a while and snuggle with her. And then she is on her way and we both feel refreshed and cared for by the connections we share.
My connection with Leon has grown. It is not a dependency, it is a joy. It is so comfortable. We relax together. We talk about so many things, we laugh, we sing, we make plans and share intimacy. We have settled into a nice routine of things we enjoy. Wednesday is date night. Saturday we go to our favorite ice cream parlor. Sunday evening we shoot pool. My connection with Leon gives me a sense of comfortable security I have never known.
I also feel connection with my listening audience. This is where I get my biggest sense of purpose and meaning. If I can help, inspire, reassure even one person each week, through my podcast or my writing, then I have done a good thing.
Monday morning. Husband just left for work. Christmas lights glow. Willa just jumped on my lap. Small moment of joy.
After the past few weeks of travel and busyness, I thought I was coming down with something, but it was pure exhaustion. Yesterday I took two naps and then later spent time with two of our granddaughters. I began to heal.
Today will be a recovery day. Exercise. Writing. Reading. All the best medicine.
“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
― Rumi
I have been in Portugal six weeks today. One of the toughest things about moving is making new connections and finding new friends. It can be lonely. I still talk to my friends in other countries of course, but it’s not the same as going for coffee or meeting for drinks. I can’t invite friends from Costa Rica for dinner and chat over a glass of wine as I cook. We often do chat online as I cook, but they never get to sit down to meal or exclaim how good it smells when they walk in the door. There is something about actually being in the same space and having that energetic contact that just can’t be replaced.
I also need all new service providers like a dentist, doctor, vet, optometrist, hair stylist and probably a massage therapist as I have chronic back issues that need a little help sometimes. It’s fun to meet new people of course, but it can get a bit heavy going when you are trying to do it all at once.
I love synchronicity. It’s how I know I am operating from my highest self. All the signs are positive and all the lights are green. Everything just seems to go my way and I feel like I am part of the flow of life. The above quote by Rumi is one way to define that sense of synchronicity in my life.
Moves can be really tough, and in my last move I felt like I was always up against roadblocks. So when I moved here and found that sense of flow right away, I was overjoyed. We moved into a temporary apartment while we look for something ideal, and it happened to be over a crafter’s shop and cafe. I decided before I moved I wanted a hobby that did not involve screens as I spend so much time on them now, so I was delighted to find a large group of mostly English speaking women who knit, sew and crochet. I decided to take up my hook once more and am currently working on a baby blanket for a pregnant friend, a scarf for my husband and a cowl for his gran.
I haven’t dealt with looking for services yet, but I am in the centre of it all. There must be twenty five dentists, optometrists and services of all sorts within fifteen minutes of my front door. All English speaking. It seems it might be easier for me here than it was in Costa Rica. We even got our apartment through a friend before we even moved. She was telling me about the area and why she thought I would love it, and she said, “Oh! I met your doppelganger while I was there last.”
“Really?” I replied, curious but distracted, I listened as she described me as someone else.
“When she walked in she seemed to know everyone. She’s very gregarious, like you. Everyone waved or got up to say hi, and then she was dancing and laughing all night. The people at my table knew her and introduced us. I think her name was Ali or something like that.”
I forgot about her little anecdote by the time I arrived in Portugal months later. It was the week before Halloween, and I absolutely love Halloween. I was so busy I didn’t have time to buy a costume, so I quickly threw together something from my own wardrobe that day. I had to go buy makeup as I haven't worn any in the five years I’ve lived in the rain forest. (No point really, it just slides off my face.)
My costume was a headless woman. It was a big hit at the party, and I met a lot of people because they loved the costume and wanted selfies. One woman I met wore purple devil horns that matched her curly purple hair. We bonded over bright and unnatural hair colours and chatted a bit. She mentioned she was a hairstylist so I got her number. Yesterday evening we were out to hear some music and she tapped me on the shoulder, and as soon as I turned around it hit me. She was the woman my friend has mentioned. Her name is Alia, and her speciality is curly hair. We seem to get along well and I have found my hair stylist!
( I had a pic but there doesn't seem to be a way to post it.)
Oh, I wish I could see the photo! This makes me think about times when I've moved, when I've had to build up a new group of connections for myself. It's so hard!
Oh, YES, moving. I love reading your words again, and what a perfect juxtaposition with Rumi, who is always a joy-balm, I think. So lovely to see you here again!
Thanks Steph! It is good to be back. I am reallying enjoying micro-dosing joy with you and look forward to being part of your creative collective again!
I loved hearing this, Roseanna. I am making a move to Barcelona in February, not my first transatlantic move, but the first in 14 years, and I feel a mix of trepidation and excitement. I hope for the kind of connections you are finding in Portugal. Where do you live in Portugal? I had my first experience of the country walking the Camino de Santiago Portugese trail this September with my daughter. The northern coast of Portugal and the entire route was just beautiful. I fell in love with Porto, where we began our walk. It also sounds like you lived in Costa Rica, a country I have visited four times and have thought of moving to. But with a daughter in Barcelona and another in Paris, Europe is where home is (I'm also lucky enough to have a Swedish passport through my former marriage).
My eldest kid was home for the weekend and my youngest joined us for dinner last night for an early birthday celebration (my birthday is tomorrow). It doesn’t often work out that the four of us can be together like that and the entire evening was a moment of connection for all of us, as our original family of four.
But the moment of connection that comes to mind happened on Saturday night, when my husband’s parents came over for dinner. Ezra (my eldest) sat with their Bubbie (grandmother) on the sofa, looking through a photo album of my youngest as a baby. With every picture of her grandchildren as babies, Bubbie would ask, “who is that?” Her dementia has been progressing.
After dinner, when we were waiting for the kettle to boil for tea and dessert, she got up and went into the kitchen to whisper with my husband. When she came back in and sat down with her hands under the table, I heard the sound of paper being shuffled around and couldn’t figure out what she had in her hands. Then she got up, hobbled over to my seat, and opened the birthday card my father-in-law had put in my hands when they arrived. I had left it on the counter, planning to open it after dinner. She placed it on the table in front of me with a diamond necklace – a small diamond in the middle surrounded by a few growing circles encased in tiny diamonds – I remember her wearing often.
I was touched that she was gifting me a piece of jewelry that she loved, yet sad that she felt it was time to give away her prized possessions. She no longer had occasion to wear them, spending most of her time in their apartment, at her day program for people with dementia, or at doctors’ appointments. She’d been gifting jewelry to me and my kids and her other daughter-in-law and grandchildren over the last few years. There were tears in her eyes and joy on her face as we hugged. This is the same woman who when I started dating her son when we were in high school had asked her eldest son to talk some sense into him. I wasn’t Jewish and he shouldn’t be dating a non-Jewish girl. But in the last five years or so, she’s been telling everyone how “I’m the best thing that happened” to her son. I think she’s feeling remorse and trying to make up for her old memories of trying to break us up. She’s been nothing but kind since we were engaged (I converted) and I hope she remembers our connection goes well beyond those first few rocky years.
This story brought tears to my eyes. It is such a beautiful thing to see the transition of your relationship with your Mother in law. I sometimes think these relationships that started out rocky and grew into something amazing are like diamonds, created and tested under pressure to really shine when needed. Thank you for sharing.
I loved this story, Tracey. How moving. Common threads between us, with my mom's dementia. My Protestant father converted to Judaism when he married my mom in 1959 (quite the Goldman family crisis for awhile!), so we were raised (very) Reform Jews. This story shows me it is never too late to repair a relationship, when there is grace on both sides.
I could stare at water forever. The ocean, a lake, even just a pool. You know what’s even better than looking at it? Getting right in it.
Yesterday, my daughter and I were at the YMCA pool for her swimming lesson. Sometimes I swim too but sometimes I don’t, because it feels like too much effort to bring all my stuff and schlep us both through the changeroom and dry everyone’s hair after. Isn’t it easier to just sit there and watch her lesson, and then spend the next hour trying to convince her to get out of the pool so we can get her dressed and go home?
A little easier, maybe, but definitely not better.
I usually remember that it’s way better to just get in the pool.
It’s instant, the happiness.
The cool, fresh water.
The freedom of diving down like a mermaid.
The magic of floating in water dappled by sun streaming in the windows.
The old familiar feeling as I swim my laps, the same way I have since I was a tiny girl at swim team practice.
I’m in my body for once, instead of being stuck on a treadmill in my mind. Thinking, planning, wondering, stewing. Being a do-er of tasks. This floating version of me doesn’t care about any of that. My mind clears and I swim my cares away.
The class is over and my wet baby throws herself into my arms and hugs me. We spend the next hour together, floating and splashing, joyful.
That is so true! Instant bliss! I miss my pool in Costa Rica right now. I started out every day with a swim and it cleared my mind for the start of the day. Thank you for sharing!
Hi Holly! I love that you got in the pool with your daughter! I just love this line, "The magic of floating in water dappled by sun streaming in the windows." So great.
I walked with a friend along the harbor today. The sun was in hiding and the boat docks were emptied. The wind off the Long Island Sound made 31 degrees feel like 25. But we were bundled, and our pace was brisk. Just before we reached the point, I stopped and touched my friend’s arm. “Look.” On our right, two white swans paddled in place, their heads and neck below the water’s surface. They looked like brilliant white marshmallows against the stark gray of winter. Swans mate for life.
So often we require verbal communication for connection. One of my 17 year old twins is non verbal, non ambulatory, so many non, non, nons. There are a lot of things she cannot do because of a severe brain injury. What most people don't realize is that there are still SO many ways to connect. She arrived home from her dads house - hair slicked down, and clothes just not quite matching the weather. I lift her from her wheelchair, and I feel her relax into me and take a big relaxing breath. I get her settled, changed, comfortable, start a podcast or the projector to stream shows. I let her rest for a few minutes and then I come in to talk with her - I use her low tech communication method (moving her right or left hand for yes or no) and talk about how she is feeling and what she wants to watch. Sometimes there is something bothering her in her body, like this week, where I suspected she might have cramps (because the monthly cycle spares no one even those who will never bear children). As soon as I asked the question, I could see her face change, even though all her movements are slow, I could see the smile starting, the big sigh, the huge relief I know she feels when I finally understand what she is trying to tell me. I feel guilty, though, always behind, constantly trying to keep up with someone elses invisible and unspoken needs, it's almost like we need to always have a connection so that I can know more instinctually when something is wrong. No pressure or anything.
I feel connection with my best friend L. Our backgrounds could not be more different. She is Chinese, born in China, raised in Hong Kong, moved to the US when she was 18 years old. I am American, white, ten years older than L.. We met over twenty years ago when we both lived in Sweden, married then to Swedish men. When L., after a harrowing divorce from the Swedish man, moved back to the US from Hong Kong, we reconnected, and our friendship grew closer than ever as I began to have serious doubts about my willingness to stay any longer in my own marriage. In 2022, we both began a three-month program to go deeply inwards, to learn to live more authentically, to engage with our shadows and interrupt old patterns in our behaviors and relationships that no longer served us. This "whole soul" journey further enriched our connection. While she has left the program to pursue other modes of healing from abusive relationships to narcissistic men (and a narcissistic mother), and I remain part of it, our connection continues to thrive with our curious, seeking minds and hearts. We record Marco Polo videos for each other every day and once a week we have a long chat via Zoom, as I live in Florida and she lives in upstate New York. Soon, I will move to Barcelona and be an ocean apart, but I know that nothing can fray this connection--not distance, not time, not the circumstances of our lives. I could not be more grateful for this friendship where we have dubbed ourselves "soul besties."
The past few days have been a struggle. Seasonal depression or hormones playing havoc within, reasons unknown, my mind has traversed the thorny path of negative emotions; from anger to senseless resentment to the dangerous urge to disconnect; to unplug from human emotions and interactions. Human connections disappoint is the intrusive thought at the moment. And yet, self awareness lends the wisdom to know otherwise and like a mantra I repeat to myself, 'They are, therefore I am.'
Thank you for being vulnerable and honest. I love your last time. This is, I know, very relatable to many, especially during this time of year.
"Self awareness lends the wisdom to know otherwise" - I love that. Thank you for sharing so honestly.
I am right there with you. ❤️
"the dangerous urge to disconnect", wow, that hit me hard. It's my natural reaction to being overwhelmed and unsure, but it disempowers me.
Thank you! I saw the prompt and felt that I should be authentic and write on how I truly feel. Its my natural reaction too :) Thanks for your thoughtful comment.
I don't know if this is a poem but it felt like it as I was writing. There is something special and primeval about the first snow. It caught me off guard.
First Snow-
The gracious gift of snow, full and light, calms my soul.
I can stand still amidst the fury of my mind,
my heart reaching always for something more.
I can watch and sense the totality of the air
and its gentleness as the flakes like feathers fall.
Like flowing water, I am entranced by the rhythm that meets me,
ethereal and timeless.
And yet, this snow is late, like it has been for the last decade.
Once the arrival came near Halloween, now it’s Thanksgiving.
Can we change our lives to meet this new reality?
Like the flights of geese or the squirrel’s gathering of food,
will they change in time for our new climate?
Being aware is the first step to adaptation, my intuition says.
If we listen with our whole heart and mind to Nature’s expressions everywhere, it continues.
But for now, this snow has me settled. I am weightless in time.
However you categorize it, it is lovely... Like the first snow. I used to live in Canada, and it has been a few years since I have seen snow. I loved this!
'Being aware is the first step to adaptation' - Wise words!!! Beautiful ending - 'I am weightless in time'. That is a beautiful write.
Perfect!! Today was our first snow! Des Moines, Iowa
It was our first snow in western New York too! And, yes, it was a late first snow.
I love your words, my friend. i felt soothed just reading this. XO
This is beautiful. Can't wait for the first snow in Connecticut.
Connection with life and living things helps to give our lives meaning and purpose.
But what does "connection" mean?
I feel grateful for Pepper, my cat. The connection I have with her helps me feel needed. She looks at me with such anticipation and love in her eyes when it is time for food or brushing or when she just wants me to stop for a while and snuggle with her. And then she is on her way and we both feel refreshed and cared for by the connections we share.
My connection with Leon has grown. It is not a dependency, it is a joy. It is so comfortable. We relax together. We talk about so many things, we laugh, we sing, we make plans and share intimacy. We have settled into a nice routine of things we enjoy. Wednesday is date night. Saturday we go to our favorite ice cream parlor. Sunday evening we shoot pool. My connection with Leon gives me a sense of comfortable security I have never known.
I also feel connection with my listening audience. This is where I get my biggest sense of purpose and meaning. If I can help, inspire, reassure even one person each week, through my podcast or my writing, then I have done a good thing.
Love this reflection on what connections means to you in your life. It can mean so many different things with different people/pets.
I love, "It is not a dependency, it is a joy." Beautiful.
Monday morning. Husband just left for work. Christmas lights glow. Willa just jumped on my lap. Small moment of joy.
After the past few weeks of travel and busyness, I thought I was coming down with something, but it was pure exhaustion. Yesterday I took two naps and then later spent time with two of our granddaughters. I began to heal.
Today will be a recovery day. Exercise. Writing. Reading. All the best medicine.
Oh, I love this. I too have been feeling like I'm on the edge of developing a bad cold and have been trying to give myself "all the best medicine."
Oh, I feel that--sometimes pure exhaustion manifests so hard in our bodies.
Synchronicity Makes My World Go Round
“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
― Rumi
I have been in Portugal six weeks today. One of the toughest things about moving is making new connections and finding new friends. It can be lonely. I still talk to my friends in other countries of course, but it’s not the same as going for coffee or meeting for drinks. I can’t invite friends from Costa Rica for dinner and chat over a glass of wine as I cook. We often do chat online as I cook, but they never get to sit down to meal or exclaim how good it smells when they walk in the door. There is something about actually being in the same space and having that energetic contact that just can’t be replaced.
I also need all new service providers like a dentist, doctor, vet, optometrist, hair stylist and probably a massage therapist as I have chronic back issues that need a little help sometimes. It’s fun to meet new people of course, but it can get a bit heavy going when you are trying to do it all at once.
I love synchronicity. It’s how I know I am operating from my highest self. All the signs are positive and all the lights are green. Everything just seems to go my way and I feel like I am part of the flow of life. The above quote by Rumi is one way to define that sense of synchronicity in my life.
Moves can be really tough, and in my last move I felt like I was always up against roadblocks. So when I moved here and found that sense of flow right away, I was overjoyed. We moved into a temporary apartment while we look for something ideal, and it happened to be over a crafter’s shop and cafe. I decided before I moved I wanted a hobby that did not involve screens as I spend so much time on them now, so I was delighted to find a large group of mostly English speaking women who knit, sew and crochet. I decided to take up my hook once more and am currently working on a baby blanket for a pregnant friend, a scarf for my husband and a cowl for his gran.
I haven’t dealt with looking for services yet, but I am in the centre of it all. There must be twenty five dentists, optometrists and services of all sorts within fifteen minutes of my front door. All English speaking. It seems it might be easier for me here than it was in Costa Rica. We even got our apartment through a friend before we even moved. She was telling me about the area and why she thought I would love it, and she said, “Oh! I met your doppelganger while I was there last.”
“Really?” I replied, curious but distracted, I listened as she described me as someone else.
“When she walked in she seemed to know everyone. She’s very gregarious, like you. Everyone waved or got up to say hi, and then she was dancing and laughing all night. The people at my table knew her and introduced us. I think her name was Ali or something like that.”
I forgot about her little anecdote by the time I arrived in Portugal months later. It was the week before Halloween, and I absolutely love Halloween. I was so busy I didn’t have time to buy a costume, so I quickly threw together something from my own wardrobe that day. I had to go buy makeup as I haven't worn any in the five years I’ve lived in the rain forest. (No point really, it just slides off my face.)
My costume was a headless woman. It was a big hit at the party, and I met a lot of people because they loved the costume and wanted selfies. One woman I met wore purple devil horns that matched her curly purple hair. We bonded over bright and unnatural hair colours and chatted a bit. She mentioned she was a hairstylist so I got her number. Yesterday evening we were out to hear some music and she tapped me on the shoulder, and as soon as I turned around it hit me. She was the woman my friend has mentioned. Her name is Alia, and her speciality is curly hair. We seem to get along well and I have found my hair stylist!
( I had a pic but there doesn't seem to be a way to post it.)
Oh, I wish I could see the photo! This makes me think about times when I've moved, when I've had to build up a new group of connections for myself. It's so hard!
Now you can see the photos! I decided to clean up the writing from yesterday and post it, with Halloween photo and the one from the other day.
https://substack.com/@postcardsfromparadise/note/p-152322322
Oh, YES, moving. I love reading your words again, and what a perfect juxtaposition with Rumi, who is always a joy-balm, I think. So lovely to see you here again!
Thanks Steph! It is good to be back. I am reallying enjoying micro-dosing joy with you and look forward to being part of your creative collective again!
totally agree about Rumi!
I loved hearing this, Roseanna. I am making a move to Barcelona in February, not my first transatlantic move, but the first in 14 years, and I feel a mix of trepidation and excitement. I hope for the kind of connections you are finding in Portugal. Where do you live in Portugal? I had my first experience of the country walking the Camino de Santiago Portugese trail this September with my daughter. The northern coast of Portugal and the entire route was just beautiful. I fell in love with Porto, where we began our walk. It also sounds like you lived in Costa Rica, a country I have visited four times and have thought of moving to. But with a daughter in Barcelona and another in Paris, Europe is where home is (I'm also lucky enough to have a Swedish passport through my former marriage).
My eldest kid was home for the weekend and my youngest joined us for dinner last night for an early birthday celebration (my birthday is tomorrow). It doesn’t often work out that the four of us can be together like that and the entire evening was a moment of connection for all of us, as our original family of four.
But the moment of connection that comes to mind happened on Saturday night, when my husband’s parents came over for dinner. Ezra (my eldest) sat with their Bubbie (grandmother) on the sofa, looking through a photo album of my youngest as a baby. With every picture of her grandchildren as babies, Bubbie would ask, “who is that?” Her dementia has been progressing.
After dinner, when we were waiting for the kettle to boil for tea and dessert, she got up and went into the kitchen to whisper with my husband. When she came back in and sat down with her hands under the table, I heard the sound of paper being shuffled around and couldn’t figure out what she had in her hands. Then she got up, hobbled over to my seat, and opened the birthday card my father-in-law had put in my hands when they arrived. I had left it on the counter, planning to open it after dinner. She placed it on the table in front of me with a diamond necklace – a small diamond in the middle surrounded by a few growing circles encased in tiny diamonds – I remember her wearing often.
I was touched that she was gifting me a piece of jewelry that she loved, yet sad that she felt it was time to give away her prized possessions. She no longer had occasion to wear them, spending most of her time in their apartment, at her day program for people with dementia, or at doctors’ appointments. She’d been gifting jewelry to me and my kids and her other daughter-in-law and grandchildren over the last few years. There were tears in her eyes and joy on her face as we hugged. This is the same woman who when I started dating her son when we were in high school had asked her eldest son to talk some sense into him. I wasn’t Jewish and he shouldn’t be dating a non-Jewish girl. But in the last five years or so, she’s been telling everyone how “I’m the best thing that happened” to her son. I think she’s feeling remorse and trying to make up for her old memories of trying to break us up. She’s been nothing but kind since we were engaged (I converted) and I hope she remembers our connection goes well beyond those first few rocky years.
This story brought tears to my eyes. It is such a beautiful thing to see the transition of your relationship with your Mother in law. I sometimes think these relationships that started out rocky and grew into something amazing are like diamonds, created and tested under pressure to really shine when needed. Thank you for sharing.
That is lovely, Roseanna, thank you!
Your gift of forgiveness is the unspoken joy here.
This is a lovely story! I'm so happy to see you again and read your words.
Thanks, Holly! Hello again!
Just so beautiful. I also had tears in my years.
Oh! This is just a gorgeous. What a gift to read.
I loved this story, Tracey. How moving. Common threads between us, with my mom's dementia. My Protestant father converted to Judaism when he married my mom in 1959 (quite the Goldman family crisis for awhile!), so we were raised (very) Reform Jews. This story shows me it is never too late to repair a relationship, when there is grace on both sides.
I could stare at water forever. The ocean, a lake, even just a pool. You know what’s even better than looking at it? Getting right in it.
Yesterday, my daughter and I were at the YMCA pool for her swimming lesson. Sometimes I swim too but sometimes I don’t, because it feels like too much effort to bring all my stuff and schlep us both through the changeroom and dry everyone’s hair after. Isn’t it easier to just sit there and watch her lesson, and then spend the next hour trying to convince her to get out of the pool so we can get her dressed and go home?
A little easier, maybe, but definitely not better.
I usually remember that it’s way better to just get in the pool.
It’s instant, the happiness.
The cool, fresh water.
The freedom of diving down like a mermaid.
The magic of floating in water dappled by sun streaming in the windows.
The old familiar feeling as I swim my laps, the same way I have since I was a tiny girl at swim team practice.
I’m in my body for once, instead of being stuck on a treadmill in my mind. Thinking, planning, wondering, stewing. Being a do-er of tasks. This floating version of me doesn’t care about any of that. My mind clears and I swim my cares away.
The class is over and my wet baby throws herself into my arms and hugs me. We spend the next hour together, floating and splashing, joyful.
We’re so alive in the pool.
There is so much joy in this Holly! In the peace of body and mind and the time of connection with your daughter. Lovely!
Thanks Tracey! Remind me next Sunday...
That is so true! Instant bliss! I miss my pool in Costa Rica right now. I started out every day with a swim and it cleared my mind for the start of the day. Thank you for sharing!
Ooh, a morning swim every day would be amazing!
Oh, that last line. So beautiful. I loved reading this, my friend.
Hi Holly! I love that you got in the pool with your daughter! I just love this line, "The magic of floating in water dappled by sun streaming in the windows." So great.
I walked with a friend along the harbor today. The sun was in hiding and the boat docks were emptied. The wind off the Long Island Sound made 31 degrees feel like 25. But we were bundled, and our pace was brisk. Just before we reached the point, I stopped and touched my friend’s arm. “Look.” On our right, two white swans paddled in place, their heads and neck below the water’s surface. They looked like brilliant white marshmallows against the stark gray of winter. Swans mate for life.
Hi Ellyn! I love how you said so much with a few carefully chosen words. I was right there with you.
Hi Holly. Thanks for your kind words.
That was so peaceful to read. Just beautiful.
Thanks Steph.
So often we require verbal communication for connection. One of my 17 year old twins is non verbal, non ambulatory, so many non, non, nons. There are a lot of things she cannot do because of a severe brain injury. What most people don't realize is that there are still SO many ways to connect. She arrived home from her dads house - hair slicked down, and clothes just not quite matching the weather. I lift her from her wheelchair, and I feel her relax into me and take a big relaxing breath. I get her settled, changed, comfortable, start a podcast or the projector to stream shows. I let her rest for a few minutes and then I come in to talk with her - I use her low tech communication method (moving her right or left hand for yes or no) and talk about how she is feeling and what she wants to watch. Sometimes there is something bothering her in her body, like this week, where I suspected she might have cramps (because the monthly cycle spares no one even those who will never bear children). As soon as I asked the question, I could see her face change, even though all her movements are slow, I could see the smile starting, the big sigh, the huge relief I know she feels when I finally understand what she is trying to tell me. I feel guilty, though, always behind, constantly trying to keep up with someone elses invisible and unspoken needs, it's almost like we need to always have a connection so that I can know more instinctually when something is wrong. No pressure or anything.
I feel connection with my best friend L. Our backgrounds could not be more different. She is Chinese, born in China, raised in Hong Kong, moved to the US when she was 18 years old. I am American, white, ten years older than L.. We met over twenty years ago when we both lived in Sweden, married then to Swedish men. When L., after a harrowing divorce from the Swedish man, moved back to the US from Hong Kong, we reconnected, and our friendship grew closer than ever as I began to have serious doubts about my willingness to stay any longer in my own marriage. In 2022, we both began a three-month program to go deeply inwards, to learn to live more authentically, to engage with our shadows and interrupt old patterns in our behaviors and relationships that no longer served us. This "whole soul" journey further enriched our connection. While she has left the program to pursue other modes of healing from abusive relationships to narcissistic men (and a narcissistic mother), and I remain part of it, our connection continues to thrive with our curious, seeking minds and hearts. We record Marco Polo videos for each other every day and once a week we have a long chat via Zoom, as I live in Florida and she lives in upstate New York. Soon, I will move to Barcelona and be an ocean apart, but I know that nothing can fray this connection--not distance, not time, not the circumstances of our lives. I could not be more grateful for this friendship where we have dubbed ourselves "soul besties."