You might think think that after a year of practice I would be taking this new life in stride. Well, you might be wrong. 

I hold my own most days, but every few, the news worsens or I see a horrifying image or there is evidence that this threat is coming too close to my family. Then I have to once more locate my 'grip' so I can get a hold of it.

Sometimes I can' find it by myself because I need to admit out loud that I am scared. Which is actually.. 'still scared'. Often this admission stops the endless loop in my head and allows a different, and more balanced, tape  to play.

Many times I can catch the downward trajectory of my thoughts and emotions by going outdoors. Where I can go has depended on the restrictions at the time, but sometimes, just 'outside' is enough. A moment in the sun and the sound and feel of the breeze can lift my spirits.  There is even a word for the sound of the wind in the trees or the rustling of the leaves. 

This word is Psithurism. It is one of a multitude of astonishing words now listed as obsolete because they have not become part of normally used vocabulary, which is a tragic loss to language. The 'p' is silent, though, why it is there, can be blamed on  the Greeks from whose word 'psithuros' (for 'whispering'), our new word stems. It is therefore pronounced 'sith-ur-izm' which has a lovely  onomatopoeic quality to it.  

There is something about the sound of the wind in the leaves that settles my soul and allows me to take a deeper breath. It reminds me of a mindfulness technique to use in moments of stress. So I will open the side door and begin to focus on...

5 Things that I see

The sky vast and everchanging

Dandelions cheerful and familiar

A Blue Jay bold and noisy 

A squirrel hungry and hopeful, and 

my chair, empty and waiting.

4 Things that I Feel

The warmth of the cup in my hands

the sun that warms my face

the softness of a tulip petal

and the roughness of the brick.

3 Things I can Hear

The chimes on the porch

the squabble of sparrows

and the slam of a car door.

2 Things that I Smell

A hint of rain in the breeze

and the blossoms on the pear tree.

1 Thing that I taste

the coffee from that warm cup in my hand.

So it is not the surroundings, I am not in the forest or a beautiful garden, that are the important factor. It is the deliberate bringing of my mind  to focus on where I am and what I can see and hear in this one moment. It grounds to where I am and away from the vague and scary places and possibilities where my mind goes when left unattended. I touch the brick of my house and feel its solidity and security.

It also reminds me that I am in a minority amongst the millions in the world who have never experienced the kind of security and privilege that I have, here, standing in my doorway, with my coffee.

View from the window...life inside a snow globe

 It has been snowing all day but it is deceptive because there is no accumulation on the tree branches. Every so often the wind will pick up and sweep snow from the roof and swirl it in front of the window so you feel like you are in a snowglobe looking out. Lovely really, but I don't have to be out in it so that alters my perspective to a positive one.

It makes me think about how other things accumulate in life and how hard is is to keep a balance. We accumulate so many things; tangible, like savings or possessions, if we are fortunate and prudent; intangible like memories and experiences. 

And how sometimes life just accumulates; how in a day's worth of phone calls, one can turn things upside down, because it brings news of illness in someone you care about.

Or one unexpected bill can effect the food budget for a month.

How one more day of gloomy cold weather can make aches and pains seem too much to bear.

Or just one more any thing can tip us from coping to overwhelmed, and upset our emotional and physical balance.  

And sometimes too, our emotional balance is just more precarious than others.

I came to a measure of self-awareness later in life. When I was growing up the idea of self-care was equated with selfishness, so, others came first; you did, you gave, you came last. I found that this lead to burnout, anger and ofttimes putting those who should come first, last. 

So I stopped (eventually). This is akin to heresy in my world, but I found that I needed rest and I thrived better in quiet  so a less busy calendar was necessary.

I learned how to say no (eventually). You can't do everything, and be everything, and the striving is profoundly draining.

 I learned (the hard way) that I needed to pay closer attention to my body telling me when something needs to be changed in my life.

When I was growing up, you did not talk about your problems as it displayed either a lack of faith, or a lack of manners. There are lots of platitudes that pertain to this; 'a burden shared is a burden halved' or 'two heads are better than one'. Often there is a modicum of truth to them. I learned that sometimes just admitting a worry or concern to someone is enough the ease its hold on me.

I also learned (eventually) to just let things go for a time. Stuff doesn't go away but you sometimes need a break from them, even if just for a little while. My first choice is always to go for a walk. Some thing that is a diversion can give you a few minutes respite from your thoughts or emotions and maybe change their trajectory.

I learned (eventually) that you need to be kind to yourself, to give yourself a break. We are so bombarded with images and ideas of what a 'successful' person looks like, has and can do. This is fraudulent and dangerous. I can only look like me, I may not be able to do or be everything I might wish. This does not mean that we can't learn, change, aspire and dream. But I have to accept who I am and aspire and dream within the framework of my own unique capabilities.

So, when things accumulate and you feel you are losing your balance..

it's okay to change your boundaries

it's okay to share your worry

it's important to treat your pain and rest

you can give yourself permission to take a break

and most importantly, be kind ..especially to yourself.

I should probably have written this conjugating the verb learn...I am learning,  (still), I will learn, (hopefully, eventually) , I have learned, (some things, and mostly by doing it wrong). 

View from the window...on vulnerability

Yesterday morning I was awakened by the earth moving...or at least that is what it seemed like. There had been a tremendous thud somewhere close by and the house shook with it. It happened twice. Kinda weird, but not especially concerning. Why? We don't live where earthquakes are imminent, we are not under attack, and I did not think that the sky was falling. 

Then yesterday afternoon as I was once more rustling the branches of the family tree, 'there arose such a clatter, I arose from my couch to see what was the matter'. At first I thought that the blue jays were simply announcing their arrival, but there was a different urgency to these calls. It took a moment to realize that there was a Cooper's Hawk in the shrub. This I had never seen before.

I know that to feed the birds is also to invite peril. Hawks will patrol occasionally but rarely close to the house. I will maybe see them in one of the large trees out back, or rarely on a pole in the park or a rooftop across the street like last week.

 

This hunter was close to the house, in a shrub, then on the ground beneath the spruce patrolling the hedge! 

(another raptor lurking next door)

I thought that this was a pretty safe place. The tree is big, the hedge is dense, the house is here. The blue jay's warning scattered the birds and it went deadly quiet. I realized that while the boughs of the spruce are thick...safe, under the tree it is open and the limbs next to the trunk are bare...not safe. The cedar hedge is fairly dense...safe; the hedge is not wide...not safe. The house provides a degree of shelter...safe; the birds cannot shelter inside it...not safe. The hawk is a large bird so small tight spaces are safe; the hawk is a carefully designed and specially equipped hunter, and hungry...not safe.

(a Red-tailed hawk in the maple in the back yard)

It made me think about what things make me feel safe and what situations make me feel vulnerable. I thought about the fact that there is a difference between what is actual and what is perceived and how those can change in a heartbeat.

I have always felt safe at home, grateful for warmth and shelter. when our oldest son left home, that security was shaken some. He is tall, imposing. Suddenly I was alone in the house for the first time and I felt vulnerable in a way that I hadn't before. I hadn't expected that.

The number at birthday time keeps getting larger and the physical changes that accompanies this are not awesome. Now when I walk on the path, alone, as I usually do, suddenly I have an awareness of vulnerability that I did not have before. 

This plague that has been visited upon us all, has certainly shaken my sense of security. Suddenly no one, and nowhere, feels safe. except home if you haul up the drawbridge and stay inside. This is not completely possible or realistic as we have to eat and those able to work, must.

So, how to deal with this overwhelming sense of vulnerability? For some people, denial works; there is no risk, or at least not of the scope that is being presented. There must always room for healthy skepticism, but one that leads to deeper understanding not an ignoring of obvious evidence.

And I wonder at what point fear can become phobia. I don't want to be so overwhelmed that I can't leave the perceived physical security of my house. Even today that safety was violated by someone sending an email that looks authentic but isn't, so even home is not inviolable.

So...today I watched out the window. Did the birds return? Not yesterday, but today they are here. Is there still a threat? Yes. Despite continued vulnerability that is real, because the hawk could come at any time, they go about their business, being watchful, but aware that at this moment they are safe and life can go on as usual. Perhaps there is a lesson in this.

(Woodpeckers come readily to the feeder but spend a lot of time scanning the sky around them)

If we can keep our feelings of vulnerability from being debilitating, they can be useful, and keep us safe and moving forward. Perhaps they can even be a point of strength, because in our awareness of our fears and weaknesses we can be more aware of those same things in others. I realized how fortunate I am that in waking up to the shudder of the earth, my mind was not filled with fear as others in our world would be.