I’m often asked “How do you choose what you write about?” Well, that’s easy…whatever is on my mind! Typically something will happen that will trigger thoughts during that day, other times I share on what ails me, pleases me.
One safe topic is the weather and we are having BEAUTIFUL weather here in Vermont. Low 70’s, blue skies, a nice breeze that feels like silk on my skin. The dogs are delighting in it as well, hanging out the windows of my jeep, running around like banches having fun. The signs of winter have passed and far from my mind, well except saying that! Trees and bushes are budding, flowers are breaking soil and just for this day I am grateful to be living in Vermont.
For the past decade or more I have had blue birds living in a few of my birdhouses outside. This year, not. I have only seen one blue bird, that’s it. The houses are already filled with nut hatchers and I haven’t quite determined the other one, but I know the two do not like each other. One so much larger than the other and a bully!
Today I’ve been thinking about faith, spirituality, that which we cannot see under microscopes or touch with our hands – Trust, reaching out our hands in the dark. I have been fortunate (or conscious?) to have had many spiritual awakenings, moments that tell me, unequivocally, there is more than where we are right now. There is existence following death, it changes drastically, but it’s there. I take great comfort in this. I can tell the days where my attitude is in need of tweaking as this is the time I begin to question that which I know. That’s when I need to reach deep within myself to get past the crap and into the comforting. I know when the darkness of depression veils it’s ugliness over me as I lose all sense of hope, faith, peace. Sometimes I believe others think (hell at times I’ve thought) that I should be able to pull myself out of the throws of depression. If only. If only. It’s something I wouldn’t wish on anyone, well maybe one evil bitch, but that’s it! I didn’t ask to be born into this. It has swallowed up many days of my life, too many. Right now I’m free of it, and on the bad days (I’ve had a couple whoppers of late) I am so fearful that it’s returning. Am I doing everything I can to help myself? What can I do to help myself? My therapist ‘reminded’ me today that the excuse I had to cancel my session on Wednesday was not acceptable. Gulps. I thanked her for the phone call and the reminder and told her I’d see her Wednesday! Smiles. My psychiatrist reminds me that I tend to stop doing the very things that help me, thus my entering into dangerous territory. True.
Today it’s easy for me to have faith, I’m feeling well physically, mentally, emotionally and everything outside reminds me of mother nature which is dear to me. Well maybe not skunks. I drove past one which was road kill this morning and thought I was going to toss my cookies. Perhaps THIS will be the year none of my animals get sprayed! Wouldn’t that be nice?
I’m missing my Australian shepherd, my Brody. It’s been a little over a year since he passed. He loved being outdoors. Even in his old age (just shy of 13) he could no longer chase the Frisbees or tennis balls, but he would drag them around in his mouth. Comical, and sweet. He was awesome, truly awesome. Sometimes my mom and my friend Robin get to talking about him and we get laughing hysterically. He was very smart, you’d have to have met him and spent time with him to understand the depth of what I am saying. He was almost human at times. He was one of a kind and like all our pets, can never be replaced. The one steady comfort that helps me to accept his passing was that he had one unbelievable life. He really did. He never knew kennels, he was seldom alone and he was a celebrity of sorts in the small town I live in. I had a studio and gift shop next to the post office which he and my mother would open all week. He greeted people outside as they were walking into the post office. His agility, speed and talent of catching tennis balls in mid air (we’re talking using a ball thrower, fast) resulted in cars pulling over to watch him. The pet store in the next town over said it was because of Brody that he has sold so many ball throwers! He was known by kids, adults. One day when I drove by the high school in the next town over he was hanging out the window (his favorite speed was 30-35) and a bunch of kids were waving and screaming his name “Brody! Brody!” I had no idea who they were but they surely knew him!
Time to get back to work. Haven’t decided which task I’m going to tackle next, too many to list!