Category: Musings

Today, at least right now, is a rough one.  I think the adrenaline from Friday night’s amazing fundraiser for our family has worn off and I am tired.  I easily could have stayed curled up under covers for the entire day.  Just so much running through my mind that is weighing heavily upon me.  As things ebb and flow there are definitely moments that are much darker than others and today is one of those days that has more darker moments.

The picture I have included is one I drew yesterday as it was becoming clearer what my ongoing experience is of your presence in my life in this time, this moment.  From the very beginning of this journey I have been weaving a web of light, love and healing – first for Russell and then for all of us grieving the loss of him.  As I have woven this web I have sensed myself standing in the center of the web, in the midst of a pulsing light of love and support that helps me be able to breathe deeply and stay grounded even on the shaky parts of the path.  It’s been challenging to explain to folks how I can stay positive, strong, stepping forward, speaking, not collapsing every single moment of every single day.

In the darker moments it’s been especially hard to explain it. Finally yesterday during WOW, my Women of Wisdom circle, this image came to me that is very much what I picture in my head and feel in my heart.  The dark thread at the center of all the web threads is the thread of my grieving, aching, confused self.  That thread runs through everything right now.  It is central to the awakening I have had that leads me to write and dream of new things.  When I am experiencing darker moments this dark thread seems to constrict around me making everything feel tighter and less able to flow easily.  These times I want to just hide, sleep, read, watch silly shows, not talk to anyone.

Around every part of this dark thread are lighter, more colorful threads, including circling around the very center where I stand.  These lighter, more colorful, rainbow threads are all of you.  Your light, your energy, your support, your prayers, your LOVE surrounds me and keeps the dark thread of grieving from consuming me and dragging me down like a kraken dragging a ship down to the depths of the sea.  Your rainbow threads hold me up, pulsing all around and through me, connecting us to one another.

It is this Rainbow Web of Light and Love that is keeping me whole and keeps me grounded to the earth.  Your Rainbow Web helps me keep breathing and walking through the dark times.  Knowing that at ANY moment all I have to do is say “I need love and light sent to me right now, in this time and in this moment.” and it will immediately come is powerful stuff!   This Rainbow Web is the best answer to the question posed often to me “How are you doing this?”   While much of what I am doing is because it just has to be done, the power behind being able to keep walking this path without falling every step of the way is Your Rainbow Web holding me up.

Russell continues to be part of this entire web for me.  He is part of the dark thread and also part of the rainbow threads as well.  I very powerfully and profoundly felt his presence during the Trivia Night to celebrate him on Friday night.  In our relationship, I was the one who would sit at parties or gatherings talking with a few folks.  Russell would walk the whole room for the entire event.  We often joked that I was a sitter and he was a stander.  On Friday night I did both; but definitely more standing and walking than sitting.  With each conversation I had at all the tables I felt his presence and could even sense him smiling that I was the one standing and working the room.  🙂   And I very clearly could sense him communicating to me, through all of your generous support, that he was taking care of the kids and I so that all would be well.  Very, very powerful gift given to me that night by all of you and by him.  I am so very thankful that I could and can sense him still.  Makes me sad and glad all at the same time; all part of the Rainbow Web.

There will be many moments in the next few weeks (and months and years) that I will continue to rest into the threads of this Rainbow Web.  Today we celebrate with all the family the fact that Kateri is turning 18 on Tuesday.  I am thankful for the amazing gift she is to me and the world; and so very proud of the woman she has become.  I feel sad that Russell is not here for her and for us.  And I am going to do all that I can to shoot lots of rainbow threads around her so that her own dark thread doesn’t become too tight around her.  I will do the same for Demetri when he turns 13 next week, and for Soren when he turns 17 in August.  Such amazing children Russell and I have raised, just amazing!

I continue to stand in the center of my being with threads of all colors swirling around me through a bright light filled with love.  You all continue to be the light and love that calls me back to myself.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

4 weeks ago today, at this exact time, we were being told that Russell needed to be moved to ICU.  It is so hard to believe that it has been 4 weeks.  It feels like a lot longer and yet there are moments it feels like it has been just a short time.  I sense myself getting closer to being ready to write the story of how we came to be on the path which has led me to this time, this moment.  But it is not today that I write that story.

Today I write simply of the things that I am grateful for in this time and in this moment.  There is much to fill my heart with gratitude and feel a desire to share that with all of you.  First and foremost today, I am grateful for the gorgeous sun, light spring breeze and warmer temperatures.  For years I have spent so much time outside that my body and mind are very tuned into the seasons.  Rainy days like we’ve had many of this week do have a draining impact on my energy. Sunny days have a lightening impact on my energy.  So today I am deeply grateful for the warm sunshine!

The attached pictures are of the brand new t-shirts I have had created using the awesome Butterfly Dragon image my brother, Jeremy, found for me.  This image is on the back of a golden partially tie dyed t-shirt.  On the front left pocket are the words “this time/this moment” which has become a mantra for me to stay in the Now, because that is really all that we have.  This image and these words have great power for me right now as I rest and recuperate in the ashes/growing soil/egg/cocoon in which I find myself.  I feel a great awakening stirring within me, some of which has already occurred.  This Butterfly Dragon is the me I hope to become when I am ready to fly into the world.  It maybe awhile before I can take full flight but I do feel myself coming out of the Butterfly Dragon egg and starting to stretch my wings into the sun.  So, so much power in this image and these words for me, so much!

So I am thankful for my brother who listened to my heart and my words and found this image for me.  Little could he know how much I would latch onto it and claim it as my own.  Thank you Jeremy.

For the rest of my family, I am also deeply grateful.  All of them have reached out to us in countless ways – changing plans, sending notes, sharing stories, allowing us to set the course for many family plans right now.  My time with them is very precious and I am thankful for their quiet presence, their silliness, their hugs, their love.  I am thankful that Kirsten and I continue to walk similar paths of grieving side by side.  While our paths are different we continue to try and walk our way forward, one baby step at a time, together.  The rest of our family gather around us to give us as much love and strength as they can.

Tonight we will be attending the Trivia Night set up by Silver Spring Pony Club (Kateri is a member) and Immaculate Conception parish to celebrate Russell’s life and act a fundraiser for us to cover all the medical expenses.  Words are not adequate for the gratitude I have for all of the people who have been working tirelessly to pull this together in a very short amount of time.  I have been looking at this night with much trepidation for the last couple of weeks.  One more thing that Russell won’t be attending that we will be looking for him at.  However, today, in this time and in this moment, I am filled with excitement to see everyone and gratitude for all who are attending.  I am pleasantly stunned that as of the last count there were 37 tables signed up.  With 10 people per table we are looking at close to 400 people who will be in attendance tonight. Wow, just wow!  Thank you all for your love.

In every time and in every moment right now I am grateful for my Avalon community who continues to freely give the kids and I ALL the time and space we need to heal.  I know how very rare it is to have a community 100% rally around for weeks on end to not only maintain a space but to help that space grow and flourish.  The amazing Co-op team of Denise, Nikki, John, Kenny, Carrie and Emily have provided consistent leadership, energy and direction for Avalon to be better than ever.  Boarders, lessons students, friends and family continue to offer their time and energy to provide loving care of the horses, dogs, cats and property.  My heart fills with joy at the thought of all of them.

I am thankful for the myriad of tasks that I was able to accomplish in the last few days.  I’ve been able to mark lots of things off my ginormous list and get closer to marking even more off of it.  And each day this week has been a little bit easier to accomplish things.  Easier moving through basic tasks is a very good thing!

I am thankful for all of the abundant financial  outpouring that has come over us through fundraisers, individual cards and donations, and Russell’s and my foresight to obtain life insurance years ago.  To not have to worry right now about finances is an unbelievable gift.

I am incredibly thankful for my life coach/guide, Ayanna, who helped each one of this week clear a few things and get a little more grounded and centered.  Just being in her presence, breathing deeper, and talking through some of the foggy muddleness inside of me is helpful.  Seeing the kids and I be a little bit lighter at the end of the week than we all were at the beginning of the week is oh so good!

Which leads me to a deep gratitude I have every single day – my amazing children.  I stand in awe of their beauty, their wisdom, their kindness, their love, their intelligence, their willingness to share their stories with me, everything about them. They are my heart’s breath and I am so thankful that I am their mother.

I am thankful that for today I am able to walk through the day feeling all the love and light being sent to me.  I physically can feel the presence of those who continue to hold us up and hold us close.  I am grateful that today my heart can feel the lightness and love surrounding us, and that it isn’t just trapped in darkness and confusion.  I am grateful for all of you.  The Web of Healing and Love continues to be spun, day after day, thread by thread by all of you.

Deeply and profoundly and with much love flowing through me, I am thankful for this time, this moment and for the Butterfly Dragon I am becoming.

Peace and love to you all,

Lara

P.S.  If you are interested, I am taking orders for the Butterfly Dragon shirts.  They come in small-2X.  They run a little small. Cost is $15 with no delivery cost if you pick them up at Avalon.  Not sure what the cost would be to ship but could do that.  🙂

“The greatest risk we can take is to be seen as we truly are.” – Ella in the movie “Cinderella”

Revealing it all; being real and authentic; walking our path with openness; allowing people to see and hear how we are REALLY doing – all of these can leave us feeling very raw and vulnerable.  We can feel as if our very skin is being burned off as we stand unshielded before the world.  We can want to run and hide away so that no one can see us.

But these very things that leave us shaking before the world, fearing that we will be rejected when we are truly seen, are what gives us the strength to become more and more deeply our true selves.  The selves we long to be but often hide so that we can fit into molds the world (or we ourselves) have placed us in.  When we choose to bravely stand in who we truly are in this time and in this moment amazing things can happen.  We can be like the phoenix that arises again from the ashes of its’ own death.  We can become glorious human beings walking our path in light and love and adventure.

“In ancient Egyptian mythology and in myths derived from it, the phoenix or phœnix (pheonix, phoenixbyrd, feonix, foenix) is a mythical sacred firebird. Said to live for 500 or 1461 years (depending on the source), the phoenix is a bird with beautiful gold and red plumage. At the end of its life-cycle the phoenix builds itself a nest of cinnamon twigs that it then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix arises. The new phoenix embalms the ashes of the old phoenix in an egg made of myrrh and deposits it in the Egyptian city of Heliopolis (“the city of the sun” in Greek). The bird was also said to regenerate when hurt or wounded by a foe, thus being almost immortal and invincible — a symbol of fire and divinity. ”

For now, the kids and I are like the baby phoenix just arisen in the ashes of our lives.  We move like an infant – bursts of energy, awkward movements, collapsing with exhaustion in the blink of an eye, looking around in wonder and sometimes bafflement at the world around us.  We are imagining and dreaming of new adventures and places we can explore. We eat a little, play and work some, rest a lot.  Simply growing from infant to adult is hard work.  And believe me we are all infants in this new “cuckoo luckoo land” we are traveling in.

As much as we all would love to become the adult phoenix able to regenerate itself, for now we MUST stay in the ashes.  There is healing to be had here first.  Healing that we don’t want to rush or it won’t be complete.  In the ashes are the fuel for our amazing rebirths and we will come out stronger than we have ever been.

I know that all of you who are journeying with us want to take all the pain away and magically make everything right again. As much as part of me deeply wishes this as well, I know that I must stay in this time and in this moment.  It is harder to admit the kids need to stay here as well since I long for them to be light-hearted and full of joy again.  But they too need to stay in this time and in this moment.  Here – in the confusing, dark part of our path – is where our rebirth can happen.  In the ashes, the cocoon, the egg, underground – all of these images work.  Not always an easy place to be, but necessary.

Walk with us, hug us, hold our hands, be silly with us, sit quietly beside us, talk with us, feed us – yes!  These are like lifelines for us or like the balance pole a tight rope walker carries as they put one foot in front of the other high above the rest of the world.   Feel your own pain and honor it as the growing space for your own rebirth.  Journal your path. Share the wisdom of your story with me and how it is making you stronger.  Be silly with me and help me feel a little bit lighter for a while.  Keep talking with us about your memories of Russell.  Share your confusion, your pain, your joys, all of your lives with me.  I long for the connection of simply being with all of you.

But take or wish away our pain?   No.  It is ours and we have earned the right to feel it all.  We need to wear it with openness and honor to our journeys.  Yes, we will rise someday like a phoenix, or a dragon, or a butterfly or a butterfly dragon, able to fly in our full power.  For now, we are gentle with ourselves and continue to give ourselves permission to tap out of any situation that is just too much for us.

Please do not fear putting “too much” on us or talking too much to us.  We are getting very good at honestly speaking of what we can and cannot do.  We can listen to the stories of others’ lives.  I love hearing about what is going on in someone else’s life as it feels like a reality I want to get back to.  Reach out to us through text, email, messaging, phone calls.  We will respond as we can.  But each message is taken in and does a little bit to nourish our infant selves.

As the world moves on and life returns to “normal”  for most of you, memories of Russell and this cuckoo luckoo time will fade which can provide a lot of relief for most.  This is a good, normal and healthy thing.  The massive amount of adrenaline released a few weeks ago is starting to fade.  I see the shift happening around me and I think “yes, it is good.  Others are finding their way out of cuckoo luckoo land.”  As I “move on” with life my memories fade but I am left with a deeper aching.  Instead of being a raw, open wound it feels like deep arthritic pain.  It is deeper, always there, sometimes very sharp and other times just a dull awareness.  But it is always there.  I imagine it is similar for our children.

We all become quieter. Not because we are getting over it but because we are growing number with the ache.  It is actually harder each day in some ways as the shock of it all wears off.  Easier in little ways but the overall feeling is deeper and more stunning.  We continue to feel shaking to our very cores.  “Real life” seems so incredibly strange now.  So our need of you is even stronger than ever.  Hugs, texts, cards, candy surprises, invites to do something fun, keep them coming!!!!

I know that many fear saying or doing the wrong thing so may say or do nothing.  That is okay too.  I know that all of you continue to feel some bafflement at this turn of events.  I feel the love pouring forth even in the silent moments.  And I know with 100% surety that if I ask for anything others will do all they can to help.  Silence doesn’t mean not caring to me.  Silence means we are all sitting in a reality that is confusing and profound.

I continue to walk my path in the only way I know how to.  I take one deliberate, baby step after another, moving forward.  I breathe in and I breathe out.  I love my children fiercely and do all I can to encourage them to follow their own, very unique path.  I do what I can with my day and don’t beat myself up for what doesn’t get done.

I take great risk each day to stand strongly and be seen as I truly am – a shaking, trembling, sometimes weeping, sometimes laughing newborn hoping to become a butterfly dragon.

“It takes 10 times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart” – Finnick to Katniss in Mocking Jay.

Oh yes it does!  I think the most challenging piece in putting ourselves back together when we fall so fully apart as I have done is finding all of the pieces first.  I feel much a like a giant jigsaw puzzle that has been dumped onto a table.  Even just finding the pieces to get started takes a great deal of time.  If any of the pieces have fallen off the table, unbeknownst to you, good luck figuring it all out.  Starting to put the pieces together so that they look like something can take days and days.  And that’s only if you can focus all of your attention on the puzzle.  If there are other tasks that need to be done finishing a puzzle can take weeks or months.

The same is true for putting myself back together right now.  I find I am able to put a few pieces back together and then something happens.  Memories flood in; I get tired and collapse; tasks pile up creating lots of clutter;  I just don’t care enough about being put together.  I will have several hours of of feeling almost “normal”,  then my new reality crashes in and it feels as if all the puzzle pieces are scattered far and wide again.  Most disconcerting.

Being gentle with myself and the kids; helping us all ride the waves of emotion and finding joy in the simple things that come my way each day; these are my focus every day.  Baby stepping forward I see the kids and I inch our way closer to having at least a few of our scattered puzzle pieces stay together rather than falling apart at every slight shift in our being.  We are getting a little more laundry done, a few more dishes, able to work a little bit longer each day, and finding reasons to laugh with one another.

For me, I am realizing again how very much  puppies (okay ponies too), projects, and people can lift me out of dark times in my life.   My day spent at Avalon yesterday was like trying to body surf or ride a roller coaster.  I went down and up and down and up and all over the place throughout the day.  Had several moments of pure silliness and many of deep waves of grieving.  And being in that space in that time and in those moments made it all possible to simply hang on for the ride.

Hugging and breathing in puppies and ponies has been some of my greatest joys for as long as I can remember.  I have hundreds of memories from throughout my life being obsessed with them both.  Every chance I got as a kid I would ride or play with whatever dog was around.  I remember several times bringing “stray” dogs home and trying to convince my parents to let me keep them.  And I already had 2 dogs at home.  🙂  Every road trip involved scouting for horses along the road wishing we could stop for me to pet everyone we passed.  Even now when my daily life involves horses I get visibly excited seeing horses when I am driving.  Obsession.  🙂

Because of Avalon’s vaccine clinic yesterday, I had the excuse to touch all of my pups and all of my horses plus many of the boarders’ horses as well.  Such a great, great thing for me.  One of ours, Karoly (the big grey I most often ride), has been especially affectionate with me this week. He’s not always the most engaged horse with folks, even me who spends the most time with him.  But his week he has been nuzzling me alot and licking my hands.   I believe he knows how very much I need the connection right now.  A lovely gift to me.

My dogs – especially Willow and Hinata – have been extra attentive to me the last several weeks as well.  Willow presses herself against me as if she can somehow become a part of me.  I swear she would carry me if she could.  Hinata has so little interest in our new puppy, Ru, because almost 100% of her focus is on watching and protecting me.  I feel their love and concern constantly flowing into me.

The day to day tasks of my life – dishes, laundry, cleaning stalls, feeding the horses – seem just too daunting most days. But completing short term projects give me renewed energy and I find I can fully engage in them for brief periods of time.  While daily tasks leave me feeling like I will never move forward, new projects leave me feeling competent and capable.  Yesterday, I had a bunch of the young Avalon girls hanging with me for the day.  With their help we trimmed Rosie’s (our mini) hooves; created new tie up spots; and helped make the vaccinations of 35 horses, 3 dogs and 4 cats go very smoothly.  I left at the end of the day feeling energized rather than drained to my core as I felt at the beginning of the day.  As I pulled out of Avalon I felt hopeful that finding joy in my work could be a possibility again.

What is by far the best thing for me at this time and in this moment are the people who continue to surround me with love and support.  The kids and I are supporting each other and I find my most joy in simply being with them. They are such amazing, wonderful people.  I am thankful everyday to be their mother and hope that I continue to help us all honor our journeys with grace, love and gentleness.

While I can’t always “ask” for hugs right now, there is nothing better than someone coming to me and sending all their love to me through a big hug.  I think others are at times worried about giving me space. And while I do need lots of quiet these days, I ALWAYS welcome hugs and simple messages of “I am thinking of you.”  They help me feel a little more balanced and healed every time!

It was awesome at Avalon yesterday having a bunch of the kids at the farm.  They hug me and help me break into silliness just by being there.  Their joy for all the things of the farm are infectious and I find I am able to set aside the heaviness in my heart when they are around. Teaching the girls how to start using a drill is oh such a simple thing. And yet it gave me deep joy yesterday.  Actually this is pretty much true for me whenever kids are around.  I simply love entering into life with them.  It’s all so real and innocent through the eyes of a child.  And I very much need their eyes to help guide me at this time.

I am heading out soon to Avalon for an afternoon of puppies, ponies. projects and people.  And all of this in a day filled with bright sunshine.  Hoping for peace and love to wash over me as I soak it all in.

Oh how I have missed looking out upon Avalon through the ears of Karoly! Today, I rode for the first time in a month. Wow, I can’t believe it’s been that long. Thanks Margo for riding with me. The canter up the hill was so freeing for me. To be on the back of a horse and breathe is one of the greatest joys of my world.

It was a great first day back working since dropping down a rabbit hole with Russell on March 13. I did about 1/10 of the work I normally do in a day but I did it. I was there for 8 hours and actually feel more energized than at the start of my day.

I have long known that Avalon is a marvelous and very rare farm. Being able to have my work be something I love with people who respect and trust me is a joy. As with anything in life, it has its kinks and things don’t always work out perfectly. But we sure try hard at Avalon to offer a healing space for horses and humans alike. I recognize the miraculous way that the Avalon community was able to keep things going strong as I journeyed with Russell in his final days. It is VERY rare any business owner can walk away from their business for weeks on end and come back with that business stronger than ever. I am deeply touched that I have been able to do just that.

I am so very thankful for the people at Avalon who love and support me enough to make sure I have ALL the space I and our kids need as we try to heal our aching hearts. Their willingness to do extra work so that I can simply sit and breathe is a treasured gift. One that I will never take lightly.

Thank you all for your ongoing love and support. We couldn’t make it through each day without you.

The adrenaline has worn off and I am left with a muddled mind and a body that feels full of lead.  🙂     I am no longer “holding on” for a big event (though a few more are still before me) and I find that I am longing for vast amounts of time by myself.  I think my brain simply can’t process the last few weeks.  It tries to make sense out of how I got from there, Russell still with us, to here, Russell not with us and it simply doesn’t register.

While I am trying to re-enter my world and get back to some kind of a routine, simple tasks that were previously ones I could do on auto pilot are now monumental tasks.  I have been driving for over 30 years, yet there are moments that I feel like I’ve just gotten my license.   I seem to have forgotten how to look both directions at an intersection.  Thankfully other drivers seem to be in much better shape than I am.  I wish they made giant black sashes for cars that say “Caution, in mourning.”

I have about 3 hours a day that my brain fires on almost all its cylinders.  These sometimes come in one long stretch but most days I get a few minutes here and a few minutes there.  Definitely makes larger projects a titch more challenging.  While I am easing back into working this week, even what used to be short days at the farm seem daunting.  The fact that it is spring is a giant gift to me.  Freezing cold days would surely leave me hiding under my covers.

One of the other things I have found happening as the adrenaline wears off is my muse is much quieter these days.  Oh, I still have thoughts run through my head throughout the day.  But I am not finding it necessary to carry my journal with me everywhere.  Nor does the muse rise up in my throat, pushing all other thoughts out of the way.  While this makes it easier to get other tasks done I was enjoying the desire and need to speak of all running through me.  Writing now becomes another thing that I must do with great intention not just something that flows out of me as easily as breathing.

All of these new realities speak to my continuing commitment to living my life with authenticity and intention.  This is where the real work begins, in baby steps moving forward. It would be easy at this time, in this moment to close my heart off to the world.  Jumping back into work, boxing up all of Russell’s things, moving on with my life – all of these maybe necessary things to do.  But not right now, not quite in this time and in this moment.  Grieving is not something to be rushed through and set aside to return to “normal” life.  Grieving is a long haul process, not a quick “get it over and done with” kind of thing.  I intend to take my time and keep my heart open as I move forward.

The conversations with folks over  the confusion and mystery of what has happened continue to occur.  We are all still grappling to understand why and how.  Being open to continuing these conversations and sharing my real feelings is part of my commitment to keeping my heart open and living with intention.  I deeply desire to continue to live in “real” experiences and emotions.  Listening to stories of how others are dealing with Russell’s quick exit from this life can be heart wrenching.  And it is also heart warming.  The love continues to flow as we all grieve.

One conversation that has stuck with me over the last few days is the one I had with Bishop Braxton of the Belleville diocese. Bishop Braxton has reached out to me several times to express his condolences.  He and Russell often had long conversations about theology, philosophy, and ministry in their work with the people of the diocese.  Russell very much enjoyed these intellectual conversations and would be pleased to know Bishop Braxton remembers them fondly.

As most of us have been grappling with, Bishop Braxton has been questioning the how this could have all happened.  The quickness of it has left us all reeling.  And questioning the fleeting reality of our own lives.  In our most recent conversation Bishop Braxton talked about his last encounter with Russell.  He talked of how causal it was and the fact that if he had known then it would be a final conversation with Russell he would have talked of more “real” (my word) things.  He wouldn’t have ended it at a “casual conversation”

That is what I keep coming back to, “casual conversations”.  We spend most of our lives living in casual conversations.  We don’t live our lives thinking “what would I say if this was my final moment with this person.”   We move through our days on auto pilot, just getting it all done.  We talk with folks, but we don’t often slow down and really communicate with each other.  To do so takes intention, authenticity, and being vulnerable to the world.  It’s what I and many have been living more fully in the last few weeks.  And that is a gift of this time, and this moment that I don’t want to lose.

What if we all lived our lives with profound awareness and connection to one another?  What if we all lived our lives with intention knowing that there is no guarantee that our lives won’t flip upside down and inside out in a blink of an eye?  What if we all lived our lives saying YES to the opportunities to BE with one another in an authentic way in every moment?  What if we chose ourselves and others over tasks everyday?  What if we knew that every casual conversation might be our last so we might want to make it a little less casual?

These thoughts, these longings in me to live my life less casually and with more profound awareness are what keep me from rushing through my grieving and just “getting busy”.  I don’t want to cover it all up with the stuff of life. I don’t want to think “the funeral is over, time to get on with it.”   I am thankful for the gifts of connection, feeling deep love for all who cross my path, opening my heart, and living each moment with awareness and intention.  I am thankful that I continue to give myself, our kids, our family and friends permission to “tap out” an any moment with no explanations necessary.  I don’t want to lose my high need to tell everyone at the end of a conversation “I love you. I appreciate you. You matter to me” and mean it.  I want to always remember that it can change in a blink of an eye or in one tiny step.  I want to live my whole life following my heart and doing what I want to do now, not wait until the tomorrow that might not come.  I want to witness to our kids that living real is a viable option and may lead to a great and passionate life.  And I want to 100% support them as they choose the path forward that works best for them, not just choose a path I or anyone else would choose for them.

Living with awareness and intention can be very emotional as we open our hearts to the world.  But the reward is well worth the rawness.  The reward of knowing that we are connected by threads we cannot see, but can definitely feel is healing and joyful for me.  If I can help even one person feel that our casual conversation was really much more than I continue to honor the path I started down with Russell.  As the hard work of making daily choices to write, to call people, to work, to dream, to do more than just hibernating commences I am hoping to live my life with intention in each time, and in each moment.    I choose to live my life in profound realness knowing each casual conversation might really be my last.

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Before I write all that is racing through my brain and body today, I must say THANK YOU!  Thank you to everyone who was able to join us in some way on Thursday to celebrate Russell and give him the best send off we possibly could.  One of Russell’s deepest fears was that he was never doing enough.  And that at the end of his life, no one would care. THANK YOU for helping us make it crystal clear that Russell was deeply cared for and that he had done enough.  WELL DONE to us all!

As the kids and I move forward into what our new “normal” will be I am doing all I can to help us talk, cry, sleep, laugh, be silly, be sad, be angry, simply BE whatever it is we need to be in every single moment of our day.  I have had many conversations with them every day about all of being gentle and honest with ourselves and each other.  While there are many others who I know are deeply grieving our loss of Russ, our kids are my #1 priority.

I am being very vocal with them and others that I am giving us a full 6 months of doing exactly what we need to do for ourselves in every moment of every day.  We may need less time or we may need more but 6 months seemed like a good place to start.   I am using a move that I understand is used in wrestling, that of tapping out.  When a person has had enough and concedes temporary defeat, they are allowed to “tap out” and be released from the hold they are caught in.  My kids and I will be using this when any part of a situation just becomes too much.  No explanations are being asked of them (or myself), we are simply to tap the other on the shoulder or arm to leave the situation and do whatever we need to for our own healing and peace of mind.

The grieving comes in such fast waves at times there is simply the need to keep all focus on breathing in order to take the next step.  Giving ourselves permission to “tap out” and just walk away from something that threatens to drown us may be one way to keep ourselves sane in a world that just makes little sense anymore..

Soren has also suggested that we each create a 6 month bucket list.  I love this idea for us and we will be sitting down in the next few days to each make a list of the things we most want to do.  Our lists will do doubt include trips to visit family and friends we have reconnected with; places we want to see; new things want to try; old things we want to return to; and lots of other things as we choose to focus more deeply on living a passionate life.

As I move forward there is so much I look forward to and yet much of it remains firmly in the future as today’s menial tasks continue to seem monumental.  Here are just a few things I look forward to.

*I look forward to the day family and friends events that are mainly joyous occasions.  For now, as much as I need family and friends, each gathering has such deep threads of memory that I frequently hit walls of grief that want to knock me to the ground.

*I look forward to the day that someone saying they are suffering from allergies doesn’t leave me wanting to drag them to the ER.  For now,  I sit with letting go of the fear that I missed something critical the week before Russ went to the hospital.

*I look forward to the day that I am tired because I’ve spent a full day working at Avalon.  For now, taking a shower and getting dressed leave me exhausted.  Actually just the thought of them sometimes is too much.

*I look forward to the day that the kids feel like they can just be kids again.  For now,  I wish people would not ask them what their future plans are.  None of us can make a decision past are we going to leave the house most days. And I wish that no one would say to Soren “You are the man of the house now.” or say to any of them “it’s your job to take care of your mother right now.”  They are my children who are very lost as they grieve their father. Their entire lives are one giant memory of being connected to Russell.   I am doing all I can to not shove them into adulthood or into roles that in no way are theirs to fill.  We are gathering lots of support around them so that they can simply be sad and angry and confused and whatever else they need to be.  I am their mother and it is my job to take care of them.  They love and support me, but it is not their job to become an adult and “take care of” me.

*I look forward to the day that all I think and do is not in reference to Russell’s final journey.  For now, I keep thinking “a week ago this is what happened.”  Fridays used to be a great day for me filled with farm, family, teaching, great times.  Now, Fridays are a very, very rough day as they all feel like stepping back into a rabbit hole.

*I look forward to being able to work at any task for longer than an hour without feeling exhausted. For now, I feel like if I have accomplished one or two tasks I have had a successful day.

*I look forward to being able to play cards again (one of my favorite things with my family) without thinking how strange it is without Russ’ unique strategic twists.  For now,  playing cards is not really one of my favorite things to do and just makes me feel very sad.

*I look forward to wanting to cook again.  For now, I am so thankful for the meals being brought to us and all the gift cards folks gave to us so we can grab something out.  For now, just cleaning the house enough to be able to cook is a mountain of a task.

*I look forward to writing of more than this particular journey.  My muse whispers thoughts of other things and other paths to explore.  For now, my voice comes out with stories of Russ and our journey with and without him.

*I look forward to the day that simply writing a blog and sharing with whoever most wants to hear it is enough.  For now, I feel a driving compulsion to share with EVERYONE in every electronic way that I can.  Writing a blog for people to chance upon reading isn’t enough.  I feel compelled to write a blog; post on facebook; send out emails; in every way possible send out the my thought threads to folks around the world.

* I look forward to the day that conversations and being with people is more important than writing as much as possible.  For now, my dragon butterfly muse is much, much more in charge of my waking day.

*I look forward to the day that I can simply breathe without each breathe needing an extra long, very consciously made exhale.  For now, I have to remind myself to exhale audibly or I find myself holding my breathe and feeling as if I will faint.

*I look forward to the day that I can play with my kids and have us just be happy.  For now, we find our joy in snippets of time and are happy to have at least those.

So, for the next 6 months know that we are walking each step, taking each moment (a day is even too big of a commitment) slowly and as gently as we can.  We will be committing to do those things we most want to do and allowing ourselves to feel it all.  We will be “tapping out” without explanation when we simply can’t handle any situation. We will be living our lives as well as we can and encouraging others to do the same.  We will be sleeping as long as we want and napping whenever we need to.  We will be eating when we can, whatever sounds good.  We will be exercising, playing, working, grieving, celebrating, crying, laughing, traveling, hibernating, yelling, silencing, breathing – living a life that is WELL DONE.