Create with Kim!

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Each step I take brings me into deeper healing, brings me back to poetry, opens my heart to sky!

It was just a short walk today…from camp to water’s edge. I jogged back up the hill, though. This weekend I refused to rush myself. I did little of what I had planned and I slept a lot.

On the ride to camp, I read poetry by Russel Thorburn from his book, “The Whole Tree as Told to the Backyard”

I love these lines:

At my typewriter close to the window/the cold earned its right to be a metaphor,/but none could be found as we heard/the tree crouching in its dreams.

We took things from the yard and garage (at Craig Street) to camp for winter storage. We brought home wood for the garage woodstove. I picked up buckets and pots. Found three small pumpkins in the garden.

We dropped lumber at Michael and Beth’s home, too.

Dinner was re-warmed roast chicken and I smoothed yesterday’s leftover mashed potatoes into a casserole dish and baked them until slightly crusty.

Now, I have little energy for anything else.

I feel ice forming. It’s below 30-degrees. I am ready for an afghan and more poetry.

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Mike was still asleep when I woke in the cold pop-up camper so I slid my shoes on quietly and in jammies went down the steep incline to the beach. The waves were calm, the morning mostly gray, the sun not having burnt off the mist and cloud cover. I came across a found altar. It was Sunday morning. I said my prayers and climbed back up a very steep incline to the campground above.

We camped at the Presque Isle Campground within the Porcupine Mountain State Park. It was only a two-day trip that started late on a Saturday but it helped me put the stresses I was feeling in the background. I came home with resolve to change, to slow it down, to take my healing to the next level.

Found altars can be a gathering of stones on a beach, or a space where you feel centered. This trip reminded me that I need to seek that space more frequently. Where is your “altar”?

Living Joyful! I started with a run at Blueberry Ridge on Sunday (5.4K) and picked blueberries. Yesterday, I rode my bike to do errands and get new books to read at the library for a total of 5.7 miles. Today ,Belly Dancing with Kate and I rode bike there with wonderful floral aromas all thru town and along the lakeshore for an additional 3.5 miles. Tomorrow is Yoga at Mukta with Lisa! Friday starts the Hiawatha Music Festival which last for 3 days. Each morning I will wake to Yoga and each night I will dance, dance, dance!

21.5.800 Day 16

I told the story of my son coming into this world. How he and I were fighters long before he became a mixed martial art fighter. I share how we were homeless both before and after his birth. How angels surrounded us and kept us together thru a long battle. My son now fights with Michael the Archangel tattooed to his side.”

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I listen to the little voices in my head say that today your coffee needs a little ground cinnamon. The voice also reminds me to take batteries and camera to yoga class. Where I met my body on the mat and it told me many things.

It is difficult to remember to water the indoor plants when it looks like Seattle in Marquette and the rain came down heavy in sheets.

A fellow yogini told me the morning dawned with orange sky everywhere and that her dog is on robin-time. I woke to Mike closing a widow that was raining in the bedroom with winds challenging the movement of trees. They too found where their bodies were restricting and holding.

Sometimes our bodies deal with storms.

I shake my head in down dog trying to let go of tension. I arch to the left in gate pose. I thread the needle. Listening to what my body tells me.

I woke with spasm and fear in my colon and core. Thought I cannot possibly go to yoga. I thought the storm just proves the point. I cannot ride my bike. My car is on empty.

Mike said, but you seem to enjoy yoga.

So I was at Mukta.

I told the story of my son coming into this world. How he and I were fighters long before he became a mixed martial art fighter. I share how we were homeless both before and after his birth. How angels surrounded us and kept us together thru a long battle. My son now fights with Michael the Archangel tattooed to his side.

Our lives are full of miracles.

Healing occurs in the breath of a hummingbird at a red glass feeder.

I ought to thin the radish seedlings but I have a cloudy head full of storm-weather this afternoon.

I’m letting cinnamon work on me, internal.

I’m letting lavender work on me, external.

I’m letting the angels work on me, ethereal.

I want to seek a deep cave with room for art and remembrance and not rush this day.

This day I brought a life into the world.

We all have a part in creation.

How we chose to breathe.

Today I chose the yoga mat and cinnamon, to water the plants, to capture light and remember.

Word Count: 384

Went for a walk Sunday late evening as shadows grew long. I had the blues. Was tired of health challenges. But I grabbed a camera and went for a walk that had my body, unfortunately, in pain. Normally, I run this route. I did things like walk on opposite sides of roads and even hopped on this Merry-go-Round and took a down shot while spinning a bit. It was calming to stand there and watch the shadows shift as I went round. I knew time would move on. Tomorrow would be another place in time.

Like the green moss on the forest floor I feel I am coming alive in spring. It has been a hard winter of injury and illness. I made room in my life for physical therapy, and doctors appointments, blood tests, and changing my kitchen to accommodate multiple food allergies. These actions, necessary. But they seriously shook up my life and interrupted what makes me, well, ME.

Part of my explorations back to self included a hike at Harlow Lake with Mike this past weekend. I noticed that I am starting to feel stronger. Not the physical fit of last summer. But a healing is occurring. That “Healing Girl” is walking with confidence that I can face down the most difficult change and still find fun, colorful play.

These photos were taken on a large outcrop of rock near the water’s edge. Some one had painted metallic graffiti on the natural rock. In the past I would be aghast, disgusted. This time I saw it as an opportunity to revel in color.

Part of what kept me going over winter was this search for the unexpected color. Winter was not black and white, gray, or dirty white. There was luminous hope even in the void. The light is around us, within us. Tapping into that awareness helps the healing cycle.

I would love for you to share your healing stories. How has awareness of color, light, and hope brought you thru the winter? Guest columns are welcomed here. Please consider sharing your art, story, song.

Thursdays are just HARD! My rituals fail on Thursday. My organization has fallen away. My fave outfits are dirty. I start off the week strong and fizzle into exhaustion by Thursday. On Thursday (or sometimes even on Wednesdays) my body is really craving, broccoli, a long run, and a 9-hour nite-long sleep.

Believe ~ Breathe ~ Beauty

I think on Thursdays (or even on Wednesdays), if I start with these three words I might be able to find a bit of balance.

Believe–A tiny necklace that arrived as a gift in my mail box. A tiny silver charm that reminds me in the possibilities of abundance even when you least expect it. Believe is my theme word for 2010. It brings me back into the right-framed mind–the creative side.

Breathe–what one thing do I need right now. Stop all the racing thoughts. Breathe. The answer usually comes as a one-word-reply. Wednesday it was FOOD! Yuppers it came to me in capital letters and loud. I popped 2 Gluten, Egg, Dairy-Free Van’s Waffles into my shiny red-toaster and smeared them with fresh ground almond butter and added a sprinkle of raisins.

Beauty–It does not take too terribly long to pop the SD memory-card out of your USB port on the puter and back into the camera step out the door and take a single photo. I did so, yesterday. The photo is of Mike’s Icehenge :-) He cleared snow off the pop-up camper and underneath were sheets of ice. He has been taking photos at night with external flashes.

But is this ritual? Do I do this daily? Can I even begin to commit?

What I was most drawn to was: Devotion, Hydration, and Nutrition.

Devotion–Each morning I would like to wake and choose an intention for the day.

Hydration–8 ounces of water before coffee everyday. I can do this, right?

Nutrition–Food is feeling like a struggle with my new lifestyle “Gluten Intolerant” and therefore also egg and dairy intolerant (at least for the time being). Old faves for breakfast are gone. Perhaps this weekend I can plan 5-days of different breakfasts that might start me off with the added nutrition I need during this healing time.

I think we will do a Monday-Friday posting next week of my Morning Rituals.

This week I’ve been suffering with muscle spasms, misalignment, and terrible pain. That does not mean I sit still easily. It meant I had to cut back o my training for the Turkey Trot, where I am hoping to still compete in my first 10k run. I have turned to medication coupled with chiropractic care and physical therapy. As I do this I have turned to walking. I walk whenever I can. This morning Mike and I walked the Noque–a route I normally run. But this took us off path from time to time. I learned to pause with camera in stillness at the sights I normally run past. I even climbed an out-crop of rock I have affectionately called the Dino or Steggie. My photos today show curves. I find this new.

Thoughts on Wednesday Night

As I run thru the forest I comment that I am not my injury anymore, and I explain to Olivia who is running with me what meaning I put behind those words.

I used to be all about my wounds. But after loosing 45+ pounds and becoming a runner I am not about my injury. That victim-sense has lifted. Small successes have built upon each other and my foundation feels strong.

Yet, in the same thought I can admit that my arm/neck/shoulder have a disability that challenges my activities. I can accept those limitations and realize that for nearly 7 years I’ve coped, changed, and adapted. I can learn modalities and address the pain and discomfort. And you know what, I can still get upset at a migraine or spasm without it crushing me.

And I did, let that injury crush me. I was afraid. The physical pain coming so soon after a divorce, the worst emotional pain of my life was too much and it brought me to ruin.

But I am finding myself in the midst of challenge(s) and being in a safe relationship allows me to rediscover.

This photo can be viewed Large.

I struggled on 7/21 of my promise and I cannot say how I took ownership of that day. It took until after 1pm to make it mine (sigh) and the idea was to do so in the morning.  After my morning shift, I headed to Presque Isle and took my camera. The photos appear below.

I did much better taking ownership of today, Day 8 of my 21-day promise.

Breakfast
Quite proud of eating a quick and nutritious breakfast this morning–my shift started at 7:30 a.m. I was done eating before 7 a.m.

Kashi Go Lean Hot
Apple, diced
4 figs, chopped
1/2 cup of 1% milk over the top of cooked cereal

Calories:472 Carbs:102 Fat:4 Protien:15

In between my split-shifts I took a few minutes next to a local lake drinking a non-fat vanilla latte and reading  Three Cups of Tea. More on this book later.