March in like a lion and out like a lamb…
…I feel a bit worn-down and beaten at the close of March 2008. An ear and sinus infection came about as complications of the flu and it seems like I have been in a battle for half of March. Oh, I have. That’s why I relented yesterday and went to the walk-in clinic for antibiotics. That is also why I have had long periods convalescing, daydreaming and philosophizing.
Sometimes our bodies shut us down hard so there is no confusing the message to quit pushing. I came into March like a lion, full of pride and raging. Now, after many weeks of illness I feel meek and quiet. I have been watching people around me. I have been watching beginnings and endings.
I recall when I first moved out of the home I shared with my husband back in 2002. I left behind many things and moved into a wide expanse filled with sun. A living room open to the dining room and a bank of windows all around. Yellow. That was the first color I wanted; the color of Joy. I bought a tall blue rustic cupboard, something one might see in Country Living Magazine and into it I placed all my art supplies. It had four splintery shelves in the 8 ft x 3 1/2 ft cupboard, and it smelled just a hint like dust and barn. Often I’d pull out supplies just to color with crayons, everything spread on a maple table my mom had refinished when I was three-years-old. I did not even have a couch, yet.
My steps in those days were slow, with purpose. I’d pick up a local entertainment magazine and think what I might want to do that I had never experienced before. I was quite open to the thought of trying things and deciding if they were for me, or not. I felt centered even though I was in mourning.
Now, as I enter the spring of 2008 there is an urgency. I want so many things. I am off- kilter. Jealous. And, at times, down right lonely. I thought more healing would have occurred by now. My family often times feels like a disconnected jumble of parts and I am struggling to be a part of my adult children’s lives.
Empty-nester some might observe. But I always imagined a house full of my adult children, grandchildren, BBQs and Family Dinners, laughter and sunshine. As I carefully began life after divorce in that sunny place it is what I had in my minds-eye.
I do have a wonderful home with Mike in South Marquette. Our home has an almost romantic view of Lake Superior–just ignore the two smokestacks of the Shiras Steam Plant on the shore’s edge. We hike and fish, go on magical adventures. He is an easy traveler. Our photos cover the walls, family shots, nature trail captures. Plants are everywhere greening and freshening our space in the middle of winter. Red blossoming cacti, African violets.
Nonetheless, I am off balance, needy, demanding, frightened. I am trying to make careful choices again, what works for me, what does not. I need to go walk the trails under heavy hemlocks, let my feet move across soft ground so I can feel that slight give, that connection to Earth. I need to move my hands through soil and place Dahlias in the garden. I need to do Tai Chi on the break-wall as the sun rises. I need to regain my strength and let go of thoughts that constrained me to illness.