HOW DO YOU REPLENISH YOUR SOUL?

 

 

 

How do you replenish your soul?  How do you celebrate the seasons that come all too quickly each year?  How do you celebrate each day? 

I find that the only way I can replenish my soul is in beauty and solitude. It could be the ocean, a clear blue sky with puffy white clouds, brilliant stars at night, the beauty I devour in well crafted words on the pages of a brand new book, a glorious sunset over a bird refuge on South Padre Island, the sun rising a little piece at a time over the Gulf of Mexico, wildflowers at timberline in the springtime with snow still visible on the higher elevations.  I don't see these things much anymore, except in my imagination.  Tears surface and the yearnings become more intense and I find myself insanely desperate in my longing for them.
 

 

I could not live without quiet.  A quiet found in solitude, in time alone, with no sound except the occasional sound of one of my dogs, contented with all, sighing beside my chair. I tire so of arguing and loud voices that are ravinous in their efforts to consume you and yet never listening. I want to plug my ears and turn down their volume.  I want to bury myself under piles of pillows until the noise disappears and the intrusion is gone. I love the sound of quiet. The feeling of peace.

 

I love those days when I have to go no where and see no one.  Days I can spend in my pajamas with a cup of tea and a croissant and plump ripe blueberries in the garden listening to the birds awaken to a new day.  These are the times that I celebrate.  These are the times that I pray.  These are the times that are all too seldom allowed me.

 

So this morning once again these all too seldom spaces and the accompanying memories and visions of places I so sincerely need to be and see are once again tucked away.  But I can close my eyes and invision them, the feel of the sun on my face and arms sipping coffee on the terrace of an adobe house in Santa Fe, hiking and enjoying a picnic lunch of wine, cheese and bread in the mountains of my home state, Colorado, and revisiting places that remain in my mind and heart, to be taken out when most needed. Most of all today I wonder if I will ever see them again. How sad that would make me. I feel as if these are as important to life as water and air.

Yesterday I spent 5 hours with three triple amputees and two warriors with self inflicted gunshot wounds to the head and sat with them and their mothers/wives.  It exhausted me...depleted me...made me sad...made me mad....made me feel somehow inexpicably empty.  Unable to fix or help or heal or offer much of anything except my presence and the presence of my best friend, my service/therapy dog Kelsie.For some odd reason I felt as if we were imposing on them and imposing on a world that is all out of whack. A world that is all too real and close and frighteningly terrifying.

I sat and observed as my precious Kelsie snuggled and cuddled and brought smiles to faces I fear had not borne one in a very long time.  I wondered what kind of a world this is where people do this to each other and for some to not be able to stand living any longer.  Then I remembered that 18 warriors die each day from suicide. And was informed that the number of triple amputees returning from war is greatly increasing. I felt 'off' all day, as if nothing I could do would even make a dent.  

This same day I had quite unexpectedly been hurt by the one person on earth I thought would never hurt me. It threw me into a tailspin. As I wondered why.  I could barely speak and felt hollow in a way I never want to feel again. I feel much the same today.  When the props are pulled out from under us what is it we should do?  Look at the bright side? Didn't work.  Try and focus on others problems that are far more severe? Maybe.  But grief is grief and pain is pain and the levels don't seem to make a difference. Delve feet first into work?  Write? Cry but find the pain is so bad that tears won't even come. 

Defeating the feeling of numbness...at the world, at the warriors with only one limb left, at hatred, at words that cut like a knife into our hearts and souls, at betrayal.   A book sits on my desk called, DON'T SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF."  Well this isn't the small stuff so no help here. 

Then as I so often do, I turn to other books.  I open one favotie book and the pages reveal answers in some myterious, predestined way.  This morning I read from LEAN FORWARD INTO YOUR LIFE by Mary Ann Radmacher.

".....if there is value in the difficult experience...it becomes more than just "loss."  We lift ourselves up on the wings of our own vision and hope. Live boldly, laugh loudly, love truly, play as often as you can, work as smart as you are able. ......answer 'yes', as you walk may angels gather at your shoulders and may you know they stand with you, as you rest may all your endeavors be rooted in contentment and peace." 

I am still left with questions left unanswered.  Maybe there are no answers, maybe I won't see my mountains or adobe houses and the smell of pinon again.  But for today I will just try and take one step after another and see where I end up. I feel quite certain that my Kelsie walks with angels on her shoulders...perhaps today I can borrow but one.