Spaciousness

Space.

I am looking for some space to clear my head these days. Clear my lungs.

I seek it everywhere. At my desk. On my back porch. Near the water. In the quiet of my bedroom. I need space. Air so full it washes over me like a waterfall - powerful and full of life.

So each day right now, I come here seeking that release… that special moment. Each day I come here to this very spot to find some sanity in this crazy, mixed up time. Hoping for the winds of change to speak to me.

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You see, I was healed here once before. My heart heavy with grief and fear, I walked this lonely mile every day wondering if life would get better. Each day, I made silent prayers to the universe that this, too, would pass and that one day, I would wake up and things would be bright again. Each day I seemingly got a message that life, indeed, does go on: a family of foxes playing in the grass; a bobcat resting in the shade, dolphins leaping out of the water, tails splashing; a pack of deer crossing right in front of me; an owl perched on a branch so obviously watching us, it gave me chills; blossoming jasmine; the scent in the air dripping heavy with honeysuckle. Life was there. Every day. It kept proving itself to me.

I kept showing up. Noticing things. Breathing in that fresh air I so desperately needed. The first days were hard. I felt like I had cinder blocks attached to me, to my heart. I dragged them behind like anchors weighing down my soul along with all the years of love and loss and pain and heartbreak I had gathered in those bags around my heart. I lost a sister, a mother, a father. I lost a family , an identity, a lover - all these things once knitted together, now frayed at the edges, torn apart by life.

But it was that air that kept me coming back. Full in my lungs. Clean. New. Blowing out the old, toxic air…the toxic thoughts. The grief and sorrow all washed away by the spaciousness I created.

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In the face of this time, I am admittedly not doing well. This stuff is hard. It’s scary. I feel the same anxiousness I did before, darkness seeping into my soul like the night stealing away light, forceful and stronger than me. But I know the light will chase away the darkness soon enough. Night always yields to day. The wind blows the old away, making room for new seeds to germinate.

The thing is that I know where to find the wind, the spaciousness I seek. I know it’s there. I just have to be patient and wait for it to come once again.

March on

The well-worn, tree-lined path of McLeod Plantation.

Sometimes the path is clear and open, lined with lovely oaks, dappled with clear sunshine leading to a clear destination on the other end. Other times the path you come across is overgrown and unclear. The uncharted territory ahead can make you confused and question whether or not you should follow that well traveled, worn path that so many have taken before you. Do they know something you don't? Or do they like knowing the outcome?

Me...well, I have always seemed to hike through the overgrown brush. I must like a good challenge. The outcome is never guaranteed and the direction can be confusing at times, but in the end I believe the destination and views will be well worth the effort. And even though all the other followers know where they are ending - somewhere safe, warm and dry - doesn't mean their ending will be any more gratifying or their views any more clear than where I find myself in the end.

So I will forge ahead - doing what I want and marching to my own drum. Because if nothing more, the small discoveries I make along the way will be worth all that hard work.