- Wednesday, June 29, 2011
- Posted in boho boy
You are my knight.
41 looks soooo sexy on you. ; )
You are my knight.
41 looks soooo sexy on you. ; )
I have stinging nettles in my back yard (and some in my front…oh and on the side!).
They grow here without me needing to plant them. They are REALLY good for you. Nature’s medicine! They also hurt like mad if you touch them a certain way. One day when we first moved here, my boys and I were on a hike and we went off the beaten path and I fell into a patch. I was shocked at the instant, harsh burning on my legs and arms…then the deep itch that felt it couldn’t be itched. Then the many swollen bumps. Then the achy numbness for a few days. I will admit, right when it happened, I cried like a baby. I am totally okay admitting that. ; ) Because of my physical reaction, I stayed away from my nettles for a few weeks…even though I was hearing of friends making soups and teas and intentionally touching them to feel the sting, to build an immunity, to listen to the pain and connect to it…or to help soothe their arthritis. I felt stubborn for a bit. I was actually a bit angry with this plant. It hurt me! Although when I would walk outside, I felt a pull to them. I would stare at them for a long while…and watch them sway in the wind. I felt like my fear of them was teaching me something. That there are always messages in the pain. Messages we need to hear in order to grow. The pain does not come from the root. Am I rooted?
I decided to get up close. I studied them. I felt less afraid. I knew they were fierce plants and in their fierceness, offered medicine that we needed. I went back to the house and grabbed my basket. And my gloves. I can still receive their medicine, with a bit of a boundary to protect myself. I still felt the sting but ever so lightly and just enough to connect to that pain. To feel alive. To help remind me that so much wisdom comes from pain. I talked with them when picking each one. I thanked them for what they had to offer. I got a sense that they softened towards me. That they felt understood. In those moments, I truly felt the heartbeat of life from the earth. Those moments of clarity and connection that come to us when we are quiet in nature, away from the noise. I want more of those.
I dried some leaves for tea. I used the raw ones for a soup. The soup tasted like pureed artichoke dipped in butter with a dash of salt. Yummmm. I used this recipe but I substituted blended soft tofu in place of heavy cream and nonfat greek yogurt in place of sour cream. I also included crushed garlic along with the onions when sauteing in the beginning.
I am so grateful that being here, surrounded by so much lushness, has me connecting deeper to what nature offers us beyond just solace. I am so inspired by Susun Weed these days…among a few others in my life, that take care of themselves and those they love with what comes from the earth: Nature’s medicine cabinet of healing and love. Its in my back yard! Mmmmm.
I think we made a good choice with this move, non? ; ) Look at him. Oh how I adore this wild child.
I have many posts to come. So much inner stuff going on that I would love to process in this space. But I do notice that living here, spending more time as a family, being outside most of the day and watching Cedar thrive…has taught me the essence of truly LIVE-ing. I am walking, breathing, feeling, BEing…more in the moment, you know?
I have less time to sit and process because of all this. Not to mention, Cedar seems to no longer need his two hour daytime nap. Ohmygosh! Talk about an adjustment for mama. That was always MY space to blog or clean or process. Now by the time he is indeed ready for bed, we are all under the spell of a nature drunk exhausted feeling.
But I miss being here. I miss sharing more of my life here. I know I am still in a space of getting settled and finding my way but I am writing this post as another way of reminding myself how important this space is to me. To my family. To my heart. To my journey.
I feel so much peeling and healing going on. Also so many new layers of elements I am not used to and trying to find my center with. This I will share soon.
Until then…perhaps you can try to bottle up his joy from this screen and drink it like a tincture. I know I will.
my father in this early twenties
I have many beautiful memories with my father. Some of my most favorite with him are out in nature. He loved to go camping and we did this as a family every single summer in the redwoods of Northern California. He would take his three girls out on hikes for hours. We’d collect rocks and sticks to bring back to camp. We’d go creek walking and he’d hold our hands so we wouldn’t slip. Sometimes when life feels overwhelming and I need to lay down and take deep breaths and find my calm, I will go to that place with my father. The hikes him and I would take alone where there would be silence because nothing needed to be said. Bringing to the trails the comfort we had with one another. The crunching beneath our feet, the sounds of the creek beside us, the wisp of the trees above, breathing in the smell of redwoods in unison. Quiet glances. Knowing. Protection. I often go back there and I know he does too. I love him to the depths and when I spoke with him this morning and we were hanging up, I could sense and hear the crack in our voices. We just want to be together today. But I am grateful. I am grateful that we hold these memories together. I searched this morning for this photo of him. I had to go out in our garage and forage through our boxes. I cried when I finally found it. There he is. That was him. His thick black curls laying on his forehead. His high shiny cheekbones. His pearly beautiful smile. His gut laughter. His dark skin that smelled of campfire. Such a beautiful man then and now. I love it when people say I look like my father. I always loved it…even though I was a girl. I was proud to carry his features. And I am proud to carry him in my heart. My first love.
What are you favorite memories with your father?
me, our picnic table we just painted and our buttercups
I have carried all of your comments on my previous post with me over the last few days. They have been so healing for me. So empowering. In many ways. A few days ago, we were needing to pick up some ingredients for dinner. I had remembered there was a Wednesday farmers market down the street that we had yet to go to. I wanted us to stop there first to get some greens. We had no idea that there would be music there. When on the way, I felt a bit rushed about getting groceries and heading back home to cook dinner but getting out of the car and hearing that acoustic guitar shifted things for me. So did seeing a bunch of people laying on the grass. I suggested we pause and just hang out for a while. So my mother in law went into the bookstore and me and my boys laid on the grass. I took a deep breath and slowly looked around at my new town folk and all of the tents full of art and earth and eco-love. As the singer strummed her guitar and my son crawled into my lap and began swaying, I couldn’t hold back the tears behind my huge vintage sunglasses. I tried to tighten my chest to stop the tears but then I remembered all of your comments. I let the tears flow. Boho Boy sat down near me with some indian food and he took one look at me wiping beneath my glasses and knew. “Are you happy, honey?” he asked me. I said “Yes. I am. Happy.” The rest of the time we sat there in silence and together as a family, just allowed this moment to Be.
Thank you all for giving me permission to revel in this space we are in.
Below is a video of that time together. I stepped back to record Cedar dancing to the woman playing guitar. As soon as I pressed record, he stopped dancing but instead, I ended up capturing a really sweet, intimate moment between him and Boho Boy. A moment that brought on the tears for him too, under his sunglasses. I think you’ll be able to feel it too.
I am sitting on our big cushy white bed upstairs while Cedar takes a nap beside me. My mother in law is coming tomorrow. I have so much to do to prepare for her stay. I get into that zone before company comes. I want it all to be nourishing and healing and home for them. I tend to stress myself out with preparation. I tend to not answer phone calls or emails the few days leading up to it. I get so focused! And then when company finally arrives, I relax into them and all the things I worried or stressed about don’t seem to really matter as much as BEing with the person. I know this about myself. Yet I do it every. single. time.
Last month my days were full of settling in. Full of exploration. Of connecting with nature. Of breathing again. Using my body more since it was feeling so much better. It was full of my boys and me connecting on a level that we were unable to for a long while. We moved slower and more mindfully and remembered what it was like to LIVE in the moment.
The next few months will be full of company coming and going. Of sunshine beginning to pour in and around these parts that is GOLDEN and cherished and barely a one person stays inside.
Because of all of this, I know I have not been and may not be here on my blog much. I am really trying to look at that. So just a few minutes ago, when Boho Boy came into the bedroom to check on me and Cedar, he must have noticed I needed something because he got on his knees and laid against the bed for a little whisper chat. I confessed to him that I was feeling hesitant to share my life here, on my blog. We explored it a bit. It helped me come here and begin to write.
What surfaced for me is that I feel really sensitive about sharing my life when I am in a truly content space. I have been on the other side of this content space so often when at times, seeing other people’s happiness turned the mirror on me and what I was so longing for in my life. A dear friend of mine wrote a post a bit ago about those emotions we go through when reading another person’s blog that is always about how awesome their life is and how that can really trigger the hard stuff inside of us. I immediately sent her an email and asked if my blog right now was one of the blogs that caused her to turn away. My blog has somewhat been full of happy lately, right? I joked with her that I am sure it is ANNOYING and that drama is coming because I am NOT used to long periods of non-suffering, so it is bound to happen soon. She giggled and reassured me it wasn’t my blog she was referring to but still…I found my knee jerk concern curious. So I AM self conscious about my happiness and how it affects others. For so long I have been in a space of longing. Whether it was longing for a baby or longing for a healthier body or longing to move outside of my third floor condo/loft and provide a life closer to nature for our son. Now that I am IN my dream and living it and truly IN it…I do find myself, because I am a compassionate person, not wanting to cause discomfort to those that come here. This is all a subconscious thing that I am just now becoming aware of and forgive me for not sounding articulate about it because I am working it out, stream of conscious, on this page. Just keeping it real…as always. ; )
I feel very cared for in this space. I feel like somehow, over the years, it has become a healing circle not only for me but for those that come here. With that said, I feel so certain that those who come here never enjoyed seeing me suffer. I know that many of you are indeed happy for me and celebrate that we have finally moved into a more healing space for our family. Yet I am still so tender about it. So many beautiful things have transpired over the past few months that I have hesitated to share here as a way to protect some of you from being triggered. I know its not my responsibility. I know its your stuff. I have my stuff, you have your stuff and we are all responsible for our own stuff. I get that. But darn-it, I am a sensitive gal…and I care about people’s feelings.
I realize this is my blog. I realize I truly write it for me and for my son someday to witness his life. But the reality is, many people come here daily and I am aware of that fact and am unable to ignore that energy.
I am not writing this with a wise, sage answer at the end. I am still working through it. To be honest, I am not used to being this happy. I mean, yes…there have been some rough moments here and there but because I am feeling a deeper peace and a clearer mind, I notice it tends to work itself out or perhaps matter less when I am laying in my own field of buttercups. Perhaps it is ME that needs to become comfortable with happiness and learn how to express a happier me here in this space.
My sister texted me yesterday telling me “I love you. Do you know that?” and I responded to her…“I feel your love every single day. Do you feel mine? I am harvesting nettles in my back yard right now for tea and tinctures and soup. I kindof love my life.” My family knows how we have suffered. My family now celebrates in our happiness. I didn’t feel guilt when I pressed send on that text to my sis. I just think I now need to trust that within my blog family too.