Thursday, October 13, 2016

Heart & Soul

This past Monday I took a walk in the woods close to the house. My heart and my thoughts have been heavy with home, family, friends and work so I was attempting to find my center. Nature always helps calm my mind and soothe my soul.

I walked up through the old North Cemetery communing with the trees. They aren't as vibrant as I've seen them in past years but they are beginning to change. We've been in a drought so the Autumn colors seem to be a bit quiet this year. Still, I smiled at the trees and even stopped to tell a couple how beautiful they were. I like to run my hand along the bark gently in greeting.

Trees are comforting to me. They are strong yet flexible. They know how to sway with the wind. Their leaves whisper gentle sounds of comfort.

In the park where I walked there is a pond. Sadly, a much smaller pond because of the drought but, still, a pond. After walking the loop trail around the park I headed to the bench next to the pond to watch the sunlight dance on the water.

When I sat down on the bench I noticed that my feet didn't touch the ground. Sort of like what it might feel like to kids when they sit on a big bench. I smiled at the realization then as I sat there I began to relax into that feeling of being a little kid. A kid who needed comforting. A kid who can't explain why it hurts but knows that it just does. A kid who's lost her family or is just too far away from them.

As these thoughts filled my head I felt the burning in my chest. The tears began to form in the corner of my eyes. They fought me to get out, to find freedom on my cheeks. Finally I stopped fighting them for a bit. The release felt good but I stopped them again. My only thought being, "What if someone walks by or comes to sit on the bench, too?" I was alone. There wasn't anyone that was going to want to share the bench with me but I didn't want to be surprised. So, I got up and walked along the bank of the pond. On the other side of me was thick brush so I knew for sure no one would happen upon me there.

As soon as I got far enough away and tucked back into a little alcove of bushes, my body let go. Why I felt the need to hide, I'm not clear, but I allowed myself to just to let it out. Out it came, too. In full force. My heart felt like it was going to burn through my chest as I silently sobbed and cried.

I love my family dearly and want nothing more than to help all of them in any way I can. My West Coast family is struggling and I'm feeling quite helpless all the way out here. My heart aches to be with them.

The transient feeling I've had over the last few years has helped me find myself and my priorities. It's been a good tool but I'm beginning to feel like I need to grow roots again. Ideas of a house, eventually a partner, a long term job, holidays spent surrounded by family and so much love are all floating around in my head quite a bit these days. I want to settle down again. I want to build those roots so I can stand even taller.

The tears I cried that day were for my family, for the distance, for their struggles and for the time it may take me to get home.


Just knowing I have a sense of that word now brings happy tears to my eyes.


  1. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability. Your writing is beautiful. Leaving home has always been good for me to gain a new appreciation for this magic place called Oregon. You are deeply missed and will be welcomed back with open arms.

    1. Thank you so much. I most definitely have a new perspective and appreciation for that magical place called Oregon. I look forward to walking back into it's embrace. Very much so.