On the Banks of Grimes Creek

(For Mark)

The sun was bright on that hot day in late August. The cicadas were buzzing loudly as the crickets chirped in chorus. It was uncomfortably warm without a cloud in the sky. The worries and cares of the life waiting for us back home started to melt away in the heat.

The long path to the creek lay before us, carved out of the tall grass and bush at the edge of the woods. We walked in silence down the path, still struggling to reconnect away from the chaos of life. As the path narrowed and widened, then narrowed and widened again, we took turns taking the lead. That is how it is in our relationship too-one of us leading when the other can't, until situations reverse the roles.

Ahead of us there is a break in the brush, and beyond that, forest. As we came closer to the break, a foot bridge came into view. Its weathered and sun bleached wood seemed to shine like metal in the overbearing sunlight. We reached the edge of the woods and it seemed like a doorway to a secret place. We stood on the bridge crossing Grimes Creek and watched the water slowly meander under us. When we crossed to the other side, the path opened up into a large clearing, gently sloped towards the rocky creek bottom. The tall grass and brush we just walked a path through hid the creek from view until you crossed the bridge to the other side.

The shade of the mighty pines kept the area cool, and it was a relief to be protected from the sun beating down. There was a carpet of green, soft and lush, under our feet. The creek was bubbling and trickling through through the rocky creek bed. The sun and the heat over the passed few days had dropped the water level. Wildflowers grew along the tree line, and butterflies fluttered about. The cares, stress, and business of life faded away. Words broke the silence as we talked about little things, like how low the creek was, and if it harbored any fish. We played in the creek bed, flipping rocks to fins crayfish and salamanders. We splashed each other in the cold water. We played like the boys we were in our childhood. We laughed at each other and how silly it was. We rested in the grass under the pine trees, laying next to each other to catch our breath. We were happy, our souls at peace, if even just for a moment. We were in love.

It was as if nature reflected that very love, or at least it seemed to. Rocks that were shaped like hearts seemed to stand out among the rest. I noticed the leaves on one bush looked like it was covered in green hearts. It was magical. I was happy. This moment needed to be remembered. I wanted to leave our mark on this place. I wanted to build an alter to celebrate every part of our love. So I began looking for rocks to build my small monument.

I found the perfect rock to use as my base. It was flat, heavy, and the perfect foundation. Steady and solid. I stacked another rock, and then another, all flat and decreasing in size. I gave them all a meaning. Something each rock symbolized. I stacked a rock for the love we have for each other. I stacked a rock for the way we stick together and have each other when the world gets cold and daunting, I stacked a rock for the physical love we shared, like when you kiss my forehead, or when I nuzzle my face in the crook of your neck. I stacked a rock for the love we made, the kisses that take my breath away, and the way we hold each other. I stacked rocks for the laughs and the joy in our lives. For the family we have built. I stacked rocks for the bad times too. For the times we didn't think we would make it through, and the times we thought we wouldn't stay together. For the lies, the betrayal, the hurt and the anger. Then I stacked a rock for forgiveness and new beginnings. I continued stacking rocks for dreams realized and dreams unfulfilled. For the journey we have made, and the road that still lies ahead. I stacked rocks until my alter reflected every part of our love. As I put the last rock on, I smiled and gave thanks for the love that filled my life, and for the man that the creator saw fit to bring into my life. As I climbed out of the creek bed, I took one last look at the monument I made.

As we left the creek and crossed the bridge to the other side, the sun was starting to play hide and seek behind the clouds rolling in. I looked toward the creek one last time, and wondered how long our monument, my alter, would stand, already longing to go back to that place. We made our way back up the path, holding hands when side by side, and taking turns leading like we always had.

That night storms moved in. Rolling thunder echoed through the mountains surrounding us. Heavy rain created a steady beat on the tin roof. My thoughts were drawn to the creek bed and my monument as I drifted off to sleep. The following morning, we made the same journey, down the path to the creek. As we crossed the bridge, we saw the creek had swelled from all the rain running down the mountain. The turbulent water rushed fast under the bridge. I was pretty certain that given the amount the creek rose, my monument was washed away. We arrived at the spot where I built my alter. Standing firm, still reaching for the sky, my monument stood, water twirling and swirling around the base.

On the banks of Grimes Creek, just past the bridge to a secret place, there is a stack of rocks. A stack of rocks dedicated to a moment in time, when two men found each other again in the quiet of the creek.

Stop, Breathe, and Reset

I am sure everyone is scared right now. And that is okay. I know I am. For the last couple days I have been glued to the television. We are on lock down in our state, no going out unless it is essential, and only essential businesses are open. No bars, no restaurants, they even closed hair and nail salons and barber shops. It has taken me a couple days to process all this. 24/7 news coverage. Worried about my children who are not with me. Needless to say, a total lack of motivation set in. What's the point? Quarantined for the near future, the nation is basically on lock down, and life will be very different for the foreseeable future. It all came to a head this morning as I prepared to go to the grocery store for this week's groceries. I grabbed my reusable bags, and got ready to go. Then the panic set it. What if someone coughs on me? What if I pick up the virus from a package someone contaminated? What if because of past medical issues, I am one of the ones who will get seriously ill from this? What if I die? Before I could even change my thinking, panic had set in. I packed sanitizing wipes, disinfecting spray, and hand sanitizer. I even packed a bandanna that I was going to wear as a mask. So I tried what I usually try when I am overwhelmed by anxiety and panic. I set everything down, and took a deep breath. I said out loud "You are panicking." Then I took another breath. I stopped to breathe. After focusing on my breathing for a moment, I started replaying the facts I know in my head. Keeping my distance from people. Washing my hands when I get back. Using sanitized wipes on the carts, handles, and my hands. Common sense precautions that are very effective. After I had this conversation in my head, the panic subsided. But it got me thinking. How can I change my thinking during this time so I am not living in a state of fear? How can I keep myself motivated to still produce during this time? How can I not let fear and panic take over?

The first thing I did was revisited my goals. Not just my goals for Wealthy Affiliate, but my goals for the next few months. I made a list of the things I have been wanting to do for a while, but haven't had the time. Building a couple pieces of furniture for the house. Starting my seeds indoors for the garden this year. I have been wanting to focus a bit more on painting and creative writing. I now have the perfect opportunity to do these things. A forced shut down helps us prioritize and gain some perspective on what things we fill our time with, and their importance.

The second thing I did was to make a daily plan to get back on track with my training and writing for Wealthy Affiliate. I have content to write and a second website to launch. Everything is in chaos right now, and the business world has been rocked by this. But it won't be permanent. We will make it through this. And when we are on the other side, I will have content to hit the ground running. No step forward is a wasted step!

Then I thought about what I needed to do to change my thinking. I have a very strong sense of spirituality, so I drew from that to start. I got off track with mediation and centering myself. It is really easy for me to lose focus if I am not focused on the here and now. I grabbed a few of my favorite quotes, wrote them down, and posted them on my fridge and around my work area. Here are some of them.

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao Tzu

"Unexpected situations are often matched by unexpected virtues, are they not? -Timberlake Wertenbaker

"It is how we embrace the uncertainty in our lives that leads to the great transformations of our souls." - Brandon Trean

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what is going to happen next." -Gilda Radner

These are just a few that I will be holding on to. I have a lot of love in my life. I have seen unexpected acts of kindness during this crisis. I am learning to live in the uncertainty, and cherish every small moment. And I am learning to press on.

Incidentally, I did make it to the grocery store. People were courteous. Calm. Careful to keep distances. It was not the craziness I expected.

We don't know what the future holds. We are in very uncertain times. But the best way to get through it, is to keep living. Stay in the moment. Enjoy the time on your hands and use it wisely. We don't get many breaks from the hustle and bustle of the world. I believe we will get through this. I believe we will have learned some valuable lessons that will hopefully change our lives for the better, and transform our souls. So we press on towards that end.

Be safe. Spread love. And carry on.

Humanity and Reason

"Our humanity rests upon a series of learned behaviors, woven together into patterns that are infinitely fragile and never directly inherited."  Margaret Mead

It is here now, and that is confirmed, but it has probably been here a while.  It is in our county, in our cities, in our neighborhoods.  This is not just some far off crisis now.  This is our crisis.

When we face challenges as a society, as diverse as we are, it is a common goal or a common thread unites us, and holds us together.  In the most severe circumstances, humanity is the only common thread we have with each other.  

As a society, we are facing what seems to be a really big challenge.  And it will seem as though it will challenge the very freedoms we take for granted everyday.  

I am a father of 4.  I have nieces and a nephew.  I have family members that are in the risk catagory.  I get the desire in us to protect self and children.  I know how it feels to have that threatened by this situation.  While protection and provisions for our family reach back to a more primal sense of survival, it is the ability to reason that needs to prevail.  

So the requests by the government are reasonable.  Yes, it may seem like our freedom to protect and provide for is being threatened, and that scares us.  Yes, it means a different way of life for the near future.  It means times may get scarier.  Cases will rise, people will get sick, and there may be more deaths.  But we have a chance to really slow this virus down so it stays manageable.  I for one hope that all these precautions we are taking are for nothing.  But as long as there is a chance it isn't, we have to be ready.  Be prepared.  Know what to expect.

I know the sense of self preservation kicks in.  It is in our DNA.  I know there is a feeling of panic when we see empty store shelves.  This is where the ability to reason comes into play.  It looks like a shortage because it all came at once.  It looks like a shortage because many people are hoard shopping.  This rush will die down for a couple weeks because everyone is stocked up.  The stores will restock at that time.

While we are facing businesses closing, curfews, and basically a national lock down for the foreseeable future, reason has to be front and center.  This is for the good of the nation.  To protect those most vulnerable.  To stop our hospitals from becoming paralyzed.  If the hospital system crashes, it isn't just Coronavirus cases that will not get treated.  It will be heart attacks, strokes, broken legs, and other traumas as well.  This is not a removal of our freedoms.  This is to preserve the freedoms we have all taken for granted, in the long term.

Kids are home and safe.  Use this time to bond.  To learn how to function as a family again.  To talk.  To take time to just be a family.  Grocery stores will remain open, and while we won't be able to buy the mass quantities we want, we will be able to buy what we need.  Gas stations will still be open.  Banks will still be open.  You will have access to your money.

This will be a rough time for each of us.  This will be a rough time for our country.  Many parts of our culture and of our society may change.  But the steps being taken now are necessary to preserve our way of life for the long term.  Reason must prevail, even if it feels contrary to self preservation.  The sun will still shine.  Life will still go on.  And I for one am going to believe in humanity.  I am going to believe in the good that we have as a society.  I am going to believe that we as a nation will come out the other side of this, stronger and with a better understanding of our freedoms and our way of life, and just how fragile it is.

Be informed.  Be kind.  Listen to the experts.  Keep fear in check, and fight the urge to panic.  Love one another.  Listen to the voices of reason.  Remember your humanity.  Your stockpile of toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and food you would never go through in a month will not save you from the effects of this, or from the virus itself.

Strong Wind, Gusty Wind

Strong wind, gusty wind won't you blow my cares away?
Just for a little peace, even if just one day.

My heart is hurting and heavy.  Blow that away too.
Take everything with you, make it all like new.

My soul is a heap of ash, let it fly on your tails.
Scattering about, above the hills and over the trails.

My thoughts are like leaves, covering the ground in the fall.
Gusty wind, come through and clear them all.

My tears I shed roll down my face.
Dry them up, or blow them away; away to another place.

My dreams are dark and lonely, my sleep long and cold.
Bring warmth on your breeze, like sunshine that's gold.

Strong wind, gusty wind, you we cannot see.
Bring me back to myself, so that I can just be me.

Stopped at an Intersection

"One of the most courageous things you can do is identify yourself, know who you are, what you believe in, and where you want to go." -Sheila Murray Bethel

I truly am at a crossroads in my life. I have been disabled for a few years now.  I have one failed marriage under my belt, and another one heading that way. Money is always tight, and have no plan for retirement and financial security. Just like the intersection above, I am at a point now where I have to choose which way to go. And I am stopped at the stop sign so to speak. What I do know is who I am, and where I want to go. My beliefs are ever-changing, as I am working hard at breaking limiting beliefs, and replacing them with empowering beliefs.

I am a passionate person.  I love hard and fight harder.  I am a warrior.  Fighting through this mental illness has proven that.  I am a creative person. I am a resourceful person. I am a person that loves to write and produce things, whether it be writing or in the shop. I am also a very uncertain person. Uncertain of the road ahead, uncertain of the steps to take. And this is the intersection I am stopped at. The road that lead me to this point, and continuing on the same comfortable path, hoping something will change, or taking a new road. Sure, its scary. Sure, it will require a lot of determination and hard work. But this just may be the clarity and direction I need.

Where I want to go is simple to identify really. I want to get to a place where doing what I love, what I am passionate about, provides financial security. I want to be able to not have the stress and angst that comes with limited finances. I am not looking for wealth, although I certainly would't turn it down. I just want to know my bills are paid, and we aren't struggling financially.

I want to be at a place where the person I am building a life with needs and respects me, the vows that were made are honored, and we are working towards a life we don't need a vacation from.

I want to be at a place where I can say "these were my dreams, and I accomplished them."

I stepped out this week, in the midst of total uncertainty and a crumbling life, and submitted three pieces of my writing for publication.  I will know the results in about a month.  I have submitted pieces before, but the paid submission wasn't accepted, and the other pieces were unpaid. I signed up and have begun a course on affiliate marketing on the internet.  I have started the third course in my herbalism certification, and I have orders waiting for me in the shop.  and due to the current situation, I have had to come up with a plan forward in case my life as I know it changes drastically, which is a real possibility.  

I am scared.  I am hurting.  Everything that I thought was a certainty no longer is.  So while being at the intersection of my past and my future is scary and uncertain, there is a certain amount of liberation knowing things can't get much worse, and a total direction change is needed.  

So which direction do I head? Whatever direction will take me to that place. And in this intersection of my life, I have the right of way.

And I am going. 

A Snapshot of Living with Bipolar Disorder

Disclaimer:  This blog post in no way should be taken as medical advice.  This is just my experience with bipolar disorder.  It is imperative that persons with this diagnosis remain in treatment, and remain on the medication regiment that their doctors prescribe.

Ever wonder exactly what bipolar disorder is?  What it feels like?  What does it effect?  Before we get into the personal side of bipolar disorder, here are some eye-opening statistics.

According to Healthresearchfunding.org:

• 5.7 million adult Americans, roughly 2.6 percent of the population, are effected by bipolar disorder.
• The average age when bipolar begins is 25, though it can develop at any age.
• 67 percent of people with a bipolar diagnosis have a close family member with a bipolar or other depressive disorder diagnosis.
• Bipolar is the 6th leading cause of disability worldwide.
• On average, 80 percent of people diagnosed with bipolar will have contemplated or attempted suicide in their life time.  
• Up to 17 percent of people with bipolar will commit suicide.
• The diagnosis of bipolar disorder will result in a 9.2 year decrease in that person's expected lifespan.

For a list of 40 profound statistics on bipolar disorder, click here: https://healthresearchfunding.org/40-profound-bipolar-disorder-suicide-statistics/

There are four different types of Bipolar disorder, each with different presentations and symptoms, but in this post I am going to focus on my diagnosis.  I was diagnosed with bipolar type II initially, but that has since been changed to bipolar type I rapid cycle, with generalized anxiety disorder and suicidal ideations.  What does all that mean?  

Webmd defines and describes bipolar type 1 as this.  "A person affected by bipolar I disorder has had at least one manic episode in his or her life. A manic episode is a period of abnormally elevated mood and high energy, accompanied by abnormal behavior that disrupts life.  Most people with bipolar I disorder also suffer from episodes of depression.  Often, there is a pattern of cycling between mania and depression."

In simple, personal terms, I have really high highs, and then some lows.  More specifically for me, instead of having episodes that last for weeks, I can have an episode over and into the next phase in less than a week.  My manic phases come on quick, and I don't really have depressive phases, I have what I call the crash.  I can tell when the mania is winding down because I get very tired, very fast.  I usually sleep on and off for a day and a half, and it takes me a couple days to get to my baseline.  During this time I am super emotional, and pretty subdued.  I wouldn't call is a depression though.  Usually I have about a week of normal before the mania starts again.  For me, even my facebook wall over the course of a week reflects the cycles I have gone through.

People with bipolar feel either euphoria or irritability during their manic phase.  

My manic phase is irritability.  Extreme irritability.  

People with bipolar type 1 can experience abnormal behavior during manic episodes, such as racing thoughts or ideas, jumping from one thought or action to the next, fast and intense un-interruptable speech, lack of a need for sleep, increase in energy leading to hyperactivity, overspending, increased sex drive leading to hypersexuality, an inflated ego or self image, and increased drinking or increased recreational drug use.  These are not the same for everyone, and they differ from person to person. There is no one size fits all.  

Some of these behaviors are are relatively benign, such as the hyperactivity, fast speech, and inflated self image.  For some, other behaviors are dangerous and harmful.  Overspending takes away from the household budget and leads to overdue bills and overdraft bank accounts.  Lack of sleep can lead to health problems.  Racing thoughts can lead to anxiety and in some cases, paranoia.  Hypersexuallity can lead to adultery, risky sexual behaviors, and relationship issues.  Increased or new drug use and increased alcohol use have damaging effects on every part of your life.  

These cycles and behaviors are out of the control of a person with bipolar disorder.  For me, when I am in a manic cycle, I am aware that I am acting, or saying things, or behaving in a way that is not normal for me.  When I am irritable and being harsh with people, I hear myself and in my head I am aware that it is wrong, but I can't stop it.  It feels like I have no control over it.  

To illustrate how this plays out, I am going to give a snapshot of what a typical cycle looks like for me, in chronological order.

The first sign I am heading to a manic phase is usually my need for to do lists.  It sounds amusing.  Looking at the to do lists I make, it is literally full of random items, basic items such as calls I have to make or bills I have to pay.  This coincides with severe racing thoughts.  This will go on for about 2 days, until the racing thoughts get unmanageable.  This leads to anxiety.  Anxiety about a landslide that happened a couple miles away from my house, 25 years ago.  Nuclear holocaust.  Did I shut the heaters off?  Wait, did I pay the national grid bill?  Oh my God, Yellowstone is going to erupt and kill us all.  We can't take the highway because we will die in a fiery wreck.  What if we hit a deer on the way to the store and roll down the side of the hill?  I hope the kids are ok.  I haven't heard form them today.  And so on and so on.  Before I know it, it is 4 am, I am wide awake, and there is no chance for sleep.  This is the onset of insomnia, which usually lasts the duration of my manic phase.  Somewhere during this time, hyperactivity sets in.  I am super productive during this time.  House is spotless, dinner is awesome.  I am more productive in the shop.  

You would think I would be happy during this time.  Although the anxiety has subsided, I am impossibly irritable.  By this point, I am usually fighting with my husband, non stop, over ridiculous things.  I am impossible to deal with, and literally everything sets me off. The racing thoughts and paranoia have considerably increased during this time, and the thoughts are completely irrational.  Is the house gonna catch on fire?  I just know my husband is plotting my death.  We are all gonna die because an asteroid is going to smash into the earth.  My heart is exploding.  I am gonna have a massive heart attack and die.  This phase usually lasts for a couple days as well.

Then comes what I call the crash.  It starts with finally sleeping, just from pure exhaustion.  Usually I will sleep for ten to twelve hours.  When I wake up, I am super emotional.  I usually cry for about a day.  Not out of depression, but more out of hopelessness.  Embarassment for the way I behaved and exhausted from the battle.  I spend so much time and energy during this phase apologizing.  I need constant reassurance that I am not going to be left.  I need love and affection.  This crash can last for a few days, but usually he need for reassurance and affection lasts for weeks, or until the next manic phase.  

My manic phases are destructive.  They are hurtful to others, exhausting for me, and have led to hospitalizations.  They are isolating, and effect relationships with family and friends.  It isn't hopeless though.  It took many months, if not years, to dial in on medications and therapy that works.  I am now on a medication to take when I am manic, that will help the manic phase subside.  It is a mild sedative.  This is effective for me, but may not work for others.  It is important to remain in therapy, and work with your mental health practitioners to find what works for you.

With proper medication, psychiatric care, and support, those with bipolar disorder can live a normal, productive life in between cycles.  The goal of treatment is to decrease the cycles, and/or help lessen the severity of these cycles.


It is my sincere hope that this post helps bring awareness to mental health, specifically bipolar disorder.  I hope it helps people who aren't effected by bipolar disorder understand the struggles and the battles that it creates for those diagnosed.  Mostly, I hope that if you are reading this and have bipolar, or any mental health disorder, that you know you are not alone.  It is time to end the stigma of mental health disorders.

Our Thank You Letter

Well, here we are, almost a year into marriage.  And we can safely say it was and is so much more than we imagined.  So much more than we were ready for.  We have needed encouragement, support and love along the way.  At our wedding, we asked for the blessing of our family and friends, encouragement, and lifelong support of our decision to be married. We have received that and so much more, starting with our wedding on December 1.  We have been lifted up by your love, motivated by your encouragement, and humbled by just how much love and support our family and friends have shown and freely given.

There was so much that was right and that was perfect on our day.  The fresh covering of snow added an element of magic.  The rustic and country style decor set the perfect mood.  And when the choir started, everyone knew we were in for something special.  We had so much help and support throughout the whole process, and we wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who helped.

First, I would like to thank our wedding party.  Wendie, your support, help, emotion, and sense of  sparkle helped bring the magic to the day, and helped keep us sane.  We will never forget the emotional support and love you gave us.  Dawn, you and I have always had a connection, and from the engagement at your house, to the engagement photos day, right up to walking down the isle with Nate, you were a part from start to finish.  As it should have been.  Melissa, your help and suggestions visually helped us so much!  And personally, I thank you for being a constant in Mark's life, throughout so much change.  And your reading was perfect!  Tisa, how amazing that you came back into my life at a time when Mark and I were starting our life together,  You have become one of our best friends, and it all started when you volunteered to jump in as a last minute bridesmaid.

To my brother and sister, and children too.  You have all seen me at my worst, and were there to help me pick up the pieces.  You supported Mark and I every step of the way, and you have accepted and loved him as a brother.  It means the world to him.  And I am forever grateful.  JB, Nate, Aiden and Emma, it  meant the world to me that you were there as our marriage started, and you have helped us become a family again.  JB your song was a very special moment.  Nate,from start to finish, you were our right hand man,  We would not have been able to pull it off without you.  Aiden, your toast was perfect in every way, and Emma, you were beautiful, just like a real life princess.  You will always be my little girl, but that day I realized the beautiful young woman you are becoming  Thank you all, and I love you to the moon, and Mark does too.  To my buddy Rich, I am so sorry a bad chicken wrap took you out!  But, leading up to the wedding, you helped keep me sane by letting me vent and stress to you.  Thank you!  (Speaking of chicken, remember the chicken is the bush???)

And to my nieces and nephew, Kaden, Krista and Olivia.  We love you just as our own, and you all made us so proud that day.  Our wedding would not have been the same without the parts you each played.  We love you!

Aside from the wedding party, we had so much help making our crazy ideas and visions come to life.  A huge thank you to Sue Hopkins for all the little details she brought in for decorations, all the help she gave, and it was because of you we even had that venue.  (Which was perfect!)  Another huge thank you to Mark's dad, Mark Sr..  From start to finish, he wore many hats.  From taking a trip to the hardware store for an electrical part to make the gazebo light up, to his beverage shopping trip with Mark.  He helped keep everything safe.  And most of all, got to spend the morning before the wedding getting ready with Mark.  That is every bit what a father does, and we thank you!  And the cleanup would have been so much worse if not for your help!

And to our moms- whether it was Mom Howe helping us to keep things in perspective, or Mom Delaney helping us fix the flowers and helping us make the last minute ends meet, we thank you and we love you.

Perhaps one of the biggest gifts to us, was the catering.  My auntie Lisa and uncle Dan prepared, cooked and set up the entire buffet.  The food was outstanding, and we will always be grateful for your gift.  Our first meal together as husbands was prepared with love by you.  Thank you and we love you!

Becca and Auntie- each of your readings were perfect.  Becca, it really is true, all I ever really needed to know, was learned in the sandbox in kindergarten.  Thank you.  And Auntie, yours was so heartfelt, and was perfect.  Your perspective on the promises of marriage was inspiring.

Now for the nuts and bolts-Mark's friend Maria bought that beautiful wedding cake, and his friend Margaret picked up the plates and napkins when we had a minor crisis.  And Wendie with the biodegradable utensils!  Such a small detail that meant so much to me.  Thank you all!

Uncle Dean, we are so thankful you recorded the day.  We didn't even think about that, and you captured it perfectly.  (By the way, here is the link to the video: https://youtu.be/BdguT2k7y9c)

If I have forgotten anyone, my apologies.  There were so many people who helped us, and we are so appreciative.

Of all the special moments, from the choir, to the exchange between Mark and the kids- from JB's song, to our vows, there is one moment that sticks out to me.

The choir was singing "Come What May".  I was leaning on one of the beams towards the back, and watched as my kids and our closest friends walked down the aisle.  I looked around and saw all the people who have played a part in our journey.  And then in the doorway, this man appeared.  He was tall, and handsome and looked like a prince.  This man represented everything I wanted in a partner, and more importantly, everything I didn't know I needed.  I remember him trembling with nerves, and it was everything in my power not to grab him and hug him.  All I could think was "God, I love this man."  As we made our way down the aisles towards each other, all the fear, questions, doubts, and anticipation melted away.  This was it!  I was marrying my best friend, my soul spark, my everything.  I will never forget these moments, and the embrace we shared when we met in the front was raw, real, and perfect.

So thank you to all of you for helping our journey begin with the perfect day.  We hope you all felt part of a big family, and felt the love that was shared that day.  Here's to many more years ahead of us!

But the Living- They Belong with the Living

I was sorting through my pile of clothes today, and came across this hat.  It's life has long passed, and it isn't even wearable anymore.  And every time I throw it away, i end up going back to the trash and take it back out.  I have another hat similar to it, that is still wearable.  (Its the hat you all probably see on my head all the time)  I am sure I will go through the same thing when this hat is threadbare and ripping apart at the seems. 

There is nothing particularly special about the hat itself.  Its just a camo hat.  Like every other one out there.  It has a couple stains on it, smells funky on warm days (I do wash it when it gets like that).   The value of this hat for me, is the memories associated with it. 

In about a month, it will be 9 years since my dad passed.  Some days it seems so long ago.  Others, like today, the hurt and the missing him feel just like it did when I woke up the morning after he passed.  In these 9 years though, I have come to understand my father so much more fully.  I think that happens to fathers and sons when the sons have sons of their own.  I just wish he was here so I could tell him "Dad, I see you.  I get you.  And I'm sorry."

So back to the hats.  I used to take the kids to Bass Pro Shops every now and then.  Just to get out.  Just to see the latest and greatest outdoor stuff.  To play the arcade games, and make big plans about the camping trips we would go on, and which tents we would want.  This time, my father wanted to come.  He was in a wheelchair at the time, as this was after his leg amputation.  I knew he wasn't up for it-it was an hour drive.  But I wasn't going to tell him no.  So we got to his house to pick him up, and he was insisting that HE use his slide board, and HE got into the car on his own.  I think part of it was he wanted to be strong in front of the kids, and show them he was ok.  I think the other part was he wanted to show me.  He saw the look on my face.  It wasn't pitty, and I hope he knew that.  I was hurting for him.  My heart felt his struggles.  And now, with struggles of my won coming to terms with my limitations, I remember his strength and l determination.  So we drove to our destination.  Stopped at Dunkin for some coffee, and laughed and joked with the kids the whole way there. 

It was a fun trip.  He kicked the boys' asses at the hunting arcade, which no doubt elevates him higher to my boys.  (He wasn't just my hero and my brother's hero, he was my sons' hero as well.)

It was during this trip that I bought these 2 hats.  This was to be the last outing we would take with my father.  He died later that year.  And I have had one of these hats on since.  I had one fly out the window this past summer.  And I cried.  Wasn't cause I lost the hat.  It was because I felt like I was losing 1 of the last pieces of my dad I had left.  (Yes, I got it back.  Mark pulled over on the side of the road on our way back so I could get it.)  It was in trying to explain to Mark why I was so upset, that I realized something.  I was holding on to thing associated with my dad because I never really made peace with his passing.  I wasn't ready for him to leave.  We were just finding our relationship.  I still needed him.  So in some way, these things helped me feel like I was still holding on to him in some way.  I still have a set of his truck keys that I have thrown away a few times as well.  (I don't think he knows I know, but I am pretty sure Mark took them out of the trash once too)

I remembered this saying that was told to me.  I used to work for a Macedonian family in their deli.  After a death in the family, the patriarch of the family, Jovan, told me "Dimitry, the dead belong with the dead.  But the living- they belong with the living."  I dismisses it as part of his old world charm and wisdom, and never gave it much thought.  But that resonates with me so much now.  Grief is a paralyzing thing sometimes.  Its lonely.  Its exhausting.  And it has no time frame.   But if we get caught up in the loss, its easy for parts of us to die.  Life is still going on.  Death is a very real, very constant part of life. 

I've learned that dwelling on loss, getting stuck in grief, keeps you in this weird in between space.  Life and living is muddled, and death is always on the mind.  I keep those words in my mind always.  "But the living-they belong with the living."  That is exactly how my father would have wanted it to be.  You have to live while you are still living. 

I will miss my dad until I see him again.  That's a given.  And he was such a huge presence in this family.  But I am still alive.  And I know in my heart, all the turmoil and sadness and insanity he experienced in his life is gone.  I hope he is spending his time fishing in the next life.  He loved that. 

And I will keep the hats, even after I can't wear them.  And I still have his truck keys to a truck that doesn't exist anymore.  But not because they are a shrine to his death, but as a way to honor the life he lived when he was here, and keep his memory and all the great memories we have, alive.

The living belong with the living.

Who is Left Standing When the Fog Lifts?

We live in an area where the geology (hills, valleys, orchards, farms, altitude) contributes to some pretty awesome weather conditions.  Coming home from Syracuse on night in November, we hit some fog that was downright scary.  Like Stephen King scary.  It started right around the massive orchard at the bottom of the big hill we live on.  From that orchard, it lasted about 5 miles.  This fog was so thick, that Mark was driving literally 10 mph.  We couldn't see any of the landmarks we usually see on our way home.  We couldn't see past the shoulder on the road.  Mark is the best driver I know, and even he was nervous driving in it.  It is by far the worst fog I have ever experienced.  Once we got to Otisco, the fog started to dissipate, and about a mile from our home, was clear.  It was such a feeling of relief when we could see again.  In the fog, it was hard to determine our location.  It was difficult to tell which direction where were going.  It was impossible to visually determine what was around us, what was lurking in the dense beyond.  It was hard to see any safe place.

(Disclaimer:  I know there are people that all of what is said below does not apply to.  If we have talked via text or facebook or phone, we are good.  We have some of the greatest friends in our life, and this blog post in no way minimizes that.)

I have been in that kind of fog mentally and physically for a while now.  The only other person who really knows how bad it can get and had gotten, is Mark.  This takes a huge toll on him, and he has been trying to keep his head above water dealing with this and with the things life has thrown at us.  Foolishly, I though I had been communicating with those close to us, (if not by phone, than by facebook updates), about how we were struggling.  Apparently I wasn't.  I have had a couple "friends" message me directly about how distant I have been, and how I must not value their friendship.  I have also had a few others, who after me canceling plans, or me not responding right away, took to facebook with passive aggressive posts.  Still another who was wondering how we are able to go out occasionally with each other or with the kids, if money is so tight.  So, since the "fog" has started to lift, I figured I would set the record straight about some things.

Two weeks ago, I had a procedure done to try and kill off the damaged nerves in my head that cause the debilitating head and neck pain and spasms.  It took over a year to fight the insurance, and the only way we actually got it approved, was by adding me on Mark's insurance.  Which is almost prohibitively expensive.  The procedure so far has been effective, and has given me relief.  I am actually starting to feel a little more like me, and after this last flare up, which lasted for about 2 months, I am adjusting to a new normal.  We have had so much support, and help (with rides to my appointments and procedure, to friends donating and helping us get the co pays covered so they will do the second procedure in a few months.)  This is the challenge we have been most open about, and it is pretty well known.  That isn't the only thing we have been dealing with.  So let me clear the air.

Since Mark's accident in October of 2017, we have had nothing but issues with our truck.  Our only vehicle.  Once we moved here, the hills and distance driving has put excess wear and tear on the truck.  We have literally had work done on it multiple times every month, and we still have a list of things that need to be done.  Literally thousands of dollars on this truck over the last year.  And because we are backwards on the payments (meaning we owe more than the truck is worth), we are stuck.  Thank God for Triple A and mobile mechanics.  So yes, on 2 specific instances, we had to cancel plans.  Because the vehicle, our only one, was not functioning.  Let me be the first to apologize for how those situations may have "devalued" our friendships over the last year.  (Yes, that was sarcasm)  Life happens.  I would think true friendships can survive something as mundane as car troubles.

Since the move in October, we have dealt with a steady stream of household issues, (power trouble with National Grid, heat problems, a leak in the garage, etc...) that have added to our stress level.  It was also in October that Mark and I got tangled up in a Child Protective Services investigation into why my ex wife was allowing the kids to not go to school.  This hung over our heads for 2 months.  Phone interviews, home visit, answering questions into personal aspects of our life, all because of a legal technicality.  The investigation has since concluded, and our family made it out mostly unscathed.  It was still a massive stressor, and any of you who have been through it, understands.  For those of you who can't comprehend how crushing that amount of stress is, be thankful you never had to go through that.

In September, December, and again in February, I was in the hospital for head pain and neck spasms that I couldn't break at home, and that were debilitating enough for a hospital visit.  In February, Nate found me unconscious on the bathroom floor.  He had to call Mark to come home from work, and then an ambulance took me in.  It was a seizure, after being seizure free for 2 years.  The flare up of headaches, pain, and insomnia started the week before our wedding, and lasted until about 2 weeks ago.  Because of this, business took a massive hit.  So bad, that we now have a monumental task of restoring our reputation and rebuilding our business.  On top of Mark working full time, helping keep the business even basically running, he has had to take care of me.  Making dinner more than I can, doing laundry because I can't, keeping track of what is due when, and what appointments are when.  This all fell on him.  For 2 months.  Right after our wedding.  I still don't know how he did it.  And if I should apologize to anyone, it is him.  He deserves so much more.  So much better.  The sad part is, very few of our friends and family actually even checked on him to see how he was doing.  A text or a phone call would have went a long way.

So aside from all this, there is the Bipolar fun that has complicated everything.  There are some days that the pain had been so long lasting and so severe that it kept me in bed all day.  Anyone who knows anything about mental illness, understands that stress and physical pain are the 2 biggest contributing factors.  There have been 3 manic episodes in that time.  Only a couple people know how bad the manic times are.  They are destructive.  They are damaging.  I go from days of not being able to talk to anyone, (literally not being able to), to cramming everything I couldn't do, on the days that I actually feel good.  It is very difficult to manage, and it has been the most damaging to Mark and our relationship.  Mental illness is not some badge to show off.  Mental illness is not something to brag about and use it for attention.  It is a day to day, sometimes hour to hour struggle.  It is not some romantic notion to cling to for facebook likes.  It sucks.  It hurts.  And it has pushed me to the point of not wanting to live at times.  (There have been some med changes recently that have made a huge difference.)

Mark and I have done things to each other in the past that have been very hurtful.  We have worked through a lot of it, and our focus has largely been building our relationship and starting our marriage off in a good place.  So yes, our focus has been us and our family.  I would hope everyone can understand that.  We have a very special thing going, and we will protect that at all costs.  That has meant pulling away from some places and some things.  That is something I will not apologize for.

Aside from the specifics mentioned, right after our wedding, we were hit with how unorganized and ungrateful we were to certain family.  We had to apologize for the way some people were treated by members of our family.  We were criticized for everything from our friends and our kids, right down to Mark's last name.  (This has all been dealt with and worked through, and things are fine now).  We were made to feel like shit, like we were doing something wrong, for not being able to save another family member from a mess they created.  One week before the wedding, we were scrambling to get Nate health insurance because his mother dropped him from hers when he moved in with us.  (He is insured, as am I, but the premiums are killing us.)

I share this not to complain.  I am not looking for sympathy.  In fact, the only thing I am looking for is clarity.  I am looking to set the record straight.  We scrape by, and pinch pennies wherever we can.  Yes, we take the kids out to dinner.  1 time per month, and we have to scrape and save and budget for that.  Yes, we go to the casino a couple times a month.  To spend free play vouchers we get every week.  It costs us nothing but the gas we spend, trying to at least get out of the house.  We don't shop for clothes unless something is threadbare and has to be replaced.  I am sewing buttons on Mark's work pants, just so he has more than 2 pairs to wear for work.  Yes, in the last 6 months, we have gotten a new bed and a new furniture set.  Both used.  Both from good friends who gave us a little time to save up money for them.  Both to replace furniture that was falling apart.  You know what we spend our money on?  Prescriptions.  Never ending truck repairs.  Rent.  National Grid.  Health insurance that costs us $350 a month.  Co-pays.  Gas to get back and forth.  Even when we were struggling, and even when we were turning in change, we still visited friends whenever we went to Syracuse.  Many, many times.  We had parts of our wedding gifted to us, because we didn't want or ask for anything.  Truth be told, if not for the loving kindness of our family and friends, we would have gotten eloped.  Before you make comments or pass judgment on how we earn or spend money, you should know the whole story.  When you make assumptions, you look like an asshole.

I have had 2 conversations with friends recently that has meant the world to me.  One friend messaged me apologizing for being an absentee friend.  What is so special about this, is that she has been kicked around by life lately.  She has been going through some awful shit.  But she reached out.  and understood that I was going through shit to, and she just wanted to tell me she loved me and she was thinking about us.  My response to her was the fact that she reached out while she was enduring struggles of her own, shows that she isn't a bad friend.  And I told her the love is still the same.  Another friend reassured me that he knows the struggles, and he doesn't take it personally if it takes me a few days to get back.  Life happens.  We never know what struggles someone else is facing.  When life settles down, we pick up our friendships and fun times right where we left off.

Now that the fog is lifting, I can see things better.  I can see things more clear.  I can see all of the uncertainty, and obstacles are in view now.  I also see who is left standing by us.  It has been extremely hurtful to have people question our friendships and loyalties.  Especially because we have bent over backwards for those very people.  I truly apologize for anything we have done to make people feel some kind of way.  I have a limited, finite amount of energy, and daily, I have to prioritize how to use it.  It has been spent on my marriage, my family, and my health.  For that, I will not apologize.  I truly had hoped that people would understand, and not judge.

Day by day, I feel better.  Piece by piece we are putting back the things that were disrupted over the last few months.  Life happens.  We are all in this together.  Let's try to use some compassion and understanding in our day to day life.  Everyone has struggles.  Everyone has times when they pull away.  Maybe, just maybe, try understanding and putting yourself in someone else's shoes.

And for the record, the friends who ran their mouth or had judgments or nasty opinions, I still have love for you.  Always will.  I just won't be expending my energy on people who don't or won't understand what we are facing in our life.

Love to all.
Jim

My Firekeeper and I

We have a great thing, my firekeeper and I.  The fire he keeps, and tends to so diligently, as if he was created for this very job, keeps me warm and sets my creativity ablaze.  It is next to the golden glow on a windy fall night that I have my best ideas and thoughts, and plans for new creations.  It is within the circle of warmth my firekeeper and I have discussions on big things.  Like how cool it is to be sitting by the fire on a cool night, after our daily work is done, and keep vigil with the farmer on the next hill harvesting his corn at night before a harsh weather change marks the end of Indian summer.  Or how we can imagine our first Christmas in our new home, when the kids come home and family gathers for dinner.  In this circle, it is safe to speak of such fragile things.  In this sanctuary, we are far away and protected from the cold realities of the world.  

To watch him tend his fire is to watch a ritual or an act of worship as old as time itself.  As if the gift of the flame is to be protected, cherished, fed, nurtured.  This particular fire consumed the cardboard boxes leftover from our move from the city.  As the burnt layers of the cardboard got caught up in the wind, and danced across the darkness just outside the boundary of the firelight, I smiled.  For some reason it brought me a momentary feeling of joy, as I imagined the sparks consciously fleeing from the fire, anxious to shine their own light.  My firekeeper didn't see it that way.  He was genuinely concerned that an escaping spark could by accident catch something ablaze that wasn't meant to be.  (Even though we are just out of a rainy fog that seemed to hover over our hill like a damp sponge).  As he stood beside his fire, fire-keeping staff in one hand, his eyes focused intently on the escaping sparks, the glow from the fire highlighted his features.  I could see the glow on his brow line, the shadow his stubble cast into the orange glow on his cheekbone, and the straight line his shoulders make.  Although no threat was present, I felt safe.  I felt at ease.  I felt like my firekeeper would protect me and keep me safe, just as he does his sacred fire. 

As the light from a thousand stars fade into the purple gray clouds roiling in, the fire is no more than pumpkin orange coals, and occasional flame that flares out.  Big things were discussed during this fire, and as we readied ourselves to settle for the night, the farmer on the other hill was done with his daily work.  My firekeeper and I retreat to our bed for the night, and all is well in our world.  And after tomorrow's work is done, we will meet in the same place, my firekeeper and I.  And while he keeps watch and tends the fire that so feeds my soul, I will create and dream big.  

Running Out of Fuel

Yes, that is my truck.  Yes, that is a correct fuel reading.  And yes, this created a full meltdown for me.  After running around all morning, covering most of Onondaga county, I stopped home to wash up and change for my doctor's appointment later that afternoon, and this is how I coasted into my driveway.  No cash on me, a ton of running around left to do, and no money in my account to cover gas.  The frustration level I felt at that moment was probably the most frustration I had ever felt.  Seems like something that happens to everyone once or twice, no?  In the grand scheme of things this was just a small bump in a day filled with bullshit and fuckery.  The thing about that kind of frustration is, it makes me cry.  There, I said it.  Total frustration of that level, as well as extreme anger, make me cry.  But so does any strong emotion.  Not sure if it is a Bi-polar thing, but there it is.  My frustration wasn't just because it seemed like a hopeless situation.  My frustration stemmed from the fact that we have been working so hard lately.  It has been a non stop grind for about a month now.  12 hour days for Mark, 12 hour shop days for me.  There is always something to do.  Always someone to help.  And there really isn't an end in sight for the near future.  A side trip to the hospital for a flare-up put us behind in everything.  When we get behind in orders, it directly effects the money I can bring in.  Don't get me wrong, I don't regret any of it.  I was just particularly tired.  I wasn't just running out of gas in my truck, I was empty across the board.  With so much left to do and prepare for, I was panicking and totally overwhelmed.  Not to mention we have been working so hard and it seems as though we are getting nowhere.  Any of you ever felt that way?  Any of you ever feel like you are screaming at the top of your lungs to those in your life "I am exhausted!  I am spent!  I am (you fill in the blank), and it falls on deaf ears?  I was ready and prepared to plan and stay at my own pitty-party.  Then a total change of perspective happened.  And here is what I learned. 

1.  Anything worth doing, anything worthy of time, attention, and sacrifice, anything that is good, is gonna be challenging.  It is almost like the universe has to test what you are made of to see if you are worthy of what you are trying to attain.  For us, it is working towards a better life, more suited for who we are and what our life goals are.  We have a move to the country coming in 3 weeks, and a wedding in less than 3 months.  So while it seems like we aren't making any progress, there are 2 goals we are working towards, and accomplishing.  Sometimes you have to keep your eyes on the end result, the end goal.  It is hard to do, but from that perspective, we are right on track.  It is difficult, but it is so worth it for us, and these struggles are temporary.  Anything worth doing is going to be work.

2.  I learned my limits.  I will keep my head down and power through just about anything.  And I have.  It isn't easy losing everything, coming out as gay, and managing a debilitating illness, all while trying to rebuild my life.  But I did it.  I am doing it.  I just don't know when to power through and when to rest.  I have gotten so caught up in what's next to do, what has to get done, and not wanting to let people down that I wasn't listening to my own body.  My soul wasn't getting fed either, and instead of taking a small rest, I pushed through because that was what men do.  Screw that shit.  My body had other plans, and I was completely sidelined for a few days to recover from another flare up.  Instead of addressing the way I was feeling empty and lost, I just ignored it.  Instead of looking at why I am not feeling fulfilled, I pushed it aside.  Until seeing I was 3 miles to empty.  Until realizing I had hit my limit.  Listen, I will gladly go through hell and back for me and mine.  I will work to accomplish something until I physically can't.  This week has taught me a little more about how a little self care and being vocal about my needs can spare a lot of frustration and conserve a lot of energy.   Learning my limits will also help me with prioritizing and focus, accepting that some things are going to have to be put off so others get my full attention.  The bottom line is if I don't stay motivated, if I don't pace myself and make sure I am ok, the business doesn't run.  The move doesn't happen.  A wedding doesn't get planned.  Learning my limits and accepting them will help prevent that from happening.

3.  This one is rough for me!  lol.  I learned that my priorities are not everyone else's.  Gasp!  Let that sink in.  Actually let me say it again.  My priorities are not everyone else's.  Seriously though, how much frustration do we cause ourselves when we don't communicate?  I think I have this assumption most times that everyone else sees things the way I do.  Or at least they should.  After all isn't my way the best?  Aren't the things I deem important really important?  (That was sarcasm).  What I am saying is this.  Communication is key to keeping the peace during stressful situations.  It is the only way we can get through sticky situations and tough times as a team, or as a family.  I learned this week that my priorities are just that-MY priorities.  Other people have their own priorities.  This isn't negative or selfish, but in order to be aware of what other people have going on and make them aware of what you have going on is to communicate.

4.  I think the biggest thing I learned is this:  tough times pass.  Storms come and go.  Things aren't gonna stay as bad as they seem.  Look for the positives.   Steal away those little moments where something made you laugh, or you felt loved, or something went right, or an anonymous donor dropped a few hundred in my lap.  ( I am kidding.  That didn't happen.)  Cherish those.  It is hard to see sometimes, but they are there in amongst the rubble you are trudging through.  It's like that Rodney Atkins song " If you're going through hell, keep on moving".  All we can do is literally all we can do.  

So there it is.  A perfect shitstorm of a day, and I survived and learned a few things.  Here is how the rest of the story goes.  I took some cans and bottles back, put gas in the truck and carried on with my day.  I got some writing done like my therapist said, (that was my homework), and today, I took a breath and created something new.  Actually created 3 things new.  And listed them all.  And sold them all.  Things are starting to look up.  We have some road to travel, but we are traveling it.  And I am not driving around on empty anymore.  I have 130 miles to go 'til empty.  And about that left in my gas tank

Encounter

The bright morning sun lit up the new snow as if it was illuminated deep within each snowflake, all combining their light. The sky was clear, and brilliant in blue. The air stings my face, but at the same time fills my lungs with crisp, pure air, settling into the deepest part of my core. I look to the top of the hills on each side of me, feeling protected and safe within the valley's confines. The gleaming snow seems to light the woods that surround me from within. As I make my way up the snow covered path, the blue sky is broken above. The bare, dark tree limbs seem to come together against the topaz blue sky, and the stained glass cathedral before me opens up. The snow crunches underneath my feet as I walk deeper into the hidden inner sanctum that seems to call for me. The air still stings my face, but as I walk into a clearing, I pass through a warm, bright spot that makes me look up and acknowledge the sun, appreciating it for the warmth and light it brings.

A dark gash appears to cut through the white that surrounds me. As I hear the rushing water, I realize it's a stream cutting through the ancient hillside, exposing boulders from the beginning of time. Seems the forest was a busy place last night. The clean, smooth snow that was in front of me when I started my journey is now broken up with tracks in the snow, and stained with the colors of the mud underneath. Deer, raccoon, cayotes, and a scattering of little tracks all led to and from the stream.

As I continue walking along the stream, I can't help but notice all of the sounds I didn't hear before. Birds chirping, carrying a melody as old as creation. Squirrels through the new snow until they get to the layer of leaves covering the fallen acorns. The sound the tall pines make in the wind when their branches collide, like faint music from old worn out wooden wind chimes. The faint thuds of the pine cones falling and striking the ground seem to keep a beat, like drums in a distant parade, keeping pace as I walk along. The forest this day was alive with color and sound, and I had first row seats in the symphony of creation.

In a moment, the pace of my steps came to a halt as I saw movement and heard commotion up ahead. At a place where the sun broke through the trees and filled the stream bed and forest floor with light, there was a deer peeking at me through the trees. As I took two more hesitant steps, the hillside a head of me came alive with motion. The beast in front of me wasn't alone. Trailing behind the strong, majestic deer I had seen, were three more smaller deer. I stood and stared into the eyes of this animal, and it stared back. There was a recognition between us. An old relationship, as if we had met before. The ancient in me, recognized the ancient in her. We connected in the sense that we were both alive, created by the creator. I nodded my head, and as if she knew I wasn't there to harm or threaten them, she led her family across the stream, bounding with one leap from bank to bank, and the deer behind her did the same. It was most certainly a spiritual moment, not in the religious sense, but in the sense that we were both worshiping and communing with the creator.

As I make my way back down the path which led me to that encounter, I couldn't help but be slightly sullen, I knew that as I left the woods, I was leaving my sanctuary. A safe, sanctified place, where you can't help but encounter God. From the choir of nature, echoing the sounds of time, to the reverence that the stained glass windows of trees and sky demand, evidence of the creator abounds. Recognizing a timeless connection I have with all of the creator's creations filled me with a sense of longing to reconnect with that more. A walk in winter woods is all the church I need.

And So I Walk

Many of you that know me, know that I walk quite frequently.  Most of the time, anywhere I have to go is within walking distance to home, so it makes sense to walk as opposed to drive.  I don't really drive much anymore.  If it's a trip to the grocery store for dinner, or a craving for an iced coffee at Dunkin, I can handle that instead of waiting for Mark to get home.  Of course there is the fact that we are a one vehicle family.  But aside from those things, it has really become my main form of exercise, and it is working.  I am down thirty pounds since February.

There are times when I get stuck on a particular idea when I am writing, or when I am working in the shop.  Inevitably, I get so frustrated that I have to walk away for a bit.  Just to clear my head.  To get some air coursing through my lungs.  The walls in this place can sometimes feel like they close in on you, and that can stifle any creative thinking.  And so I walk.  It helps me refocus.

Weather doesn't really stop me from walking.  I have walked in the snow, in the rain, in the heat.  I actually do have to admit that when it is about as cold as the arctic during the winter, my walks are short and brisk.  The thing is, in each weather type, there is a benefit for a weary mind, or a tender heart.  I love the way the rain refreshes in the spring and summer, and the way it makes all of the colors in the fall pop.  When I am stuck in the silent spaces in my heart, the rain provides a very soothing, almost empathetic setting.  I love the way the sun energizes and inspires.  The peacefulness of the snow in the winter, especially at night, is simply magical.  These times, these moments have become so precious to me.  And so I walk.  It helps me appreciate and recognize the beauty of the climate we get to live in!

As much as I would like to deny it, sometimes I walk to avoid confrontation.  I have a huge heart, and I can be very in touch with my emotions.  I am very passionate at times, and sometimes it is misdirected.  I love hard.  And I can fight harder.  So before a situation gets out of control, and communication has turned into a battle cry, I need an escape.  An out.  And so I walk.  In the silence of my solitude, I try to sort out the voices and the crazy battle raging in my head.  Walking brings me clarity, and gives me a chance to stand down.

I walk through abandoned city blocks, and I wonder what used to be.  I see the houses that are falling apart in my neighborhood, and I can see young families just starting out in this city a hundred years ago.  I wonder if there were ever any block parties, and what trick or treating used to be like back in the good ole days.  I see the sprawl of a growing city, and the by-products of poverty and drugs.  I see the revitalized and renewed areas of this city, as well as the areas suffering the decay of the slow death of the inner city areas.  I see the same cracked out prostitute just about the same days and times every week.  I walk past the steady group of guys that pan handle and sling bootlegged DVDs.  When I walk the trails down at the inner harbor, I see the same guys, every time I am there, cruising the area looking for a quick hook-up.  The characters are always the same. I watch and I observe.  I notice small details, like the flowers that fight and struggle, reaching for the sky, in crack on the sidewalk, or in amongst the trash and debris of abandoned spaces.  I listen to the steady rhythm of the various construction equipment in use around the area.  I talk to the cashiers at the gas stations, and the young woman that always takes my order and makes my coffee at Dunkin Donuts.  wonder about the people I see and come in contact with throughout my walks.  I notice when someone new is hanging around, or when someone who is a regular isn't around.  Most often than not, these walks are what I turn to when the loneliness gets overwhelming, or the noise in my head gets too loud.  These people I see and pass and interact with have become players in my show.  I wonder about their pasts.  What drove this woman to use her body to pay for her addiction?  Why doesn't this able bodied guy always begging for money have a job?  Sometimes I make up their back stories.  Other times I say a little prayer for them.

Still there are other times when I really just want a Java Monster or a candy bar.  And so I walk.