That is the quality of the light today. It's brilliant outside - sunshine for the first time in several days. Illuminating the water and ice remaining from our first winter weather of the season earlier this week - there is a sparkle to the very air. There is quite the breeze blowing - carrying away those water droplets while the meager warmth in the sun begins its bid to say good-bye to the ice.
In truth - I love the winter. The cold air, the weak sunshine, the bleakness of the landscape...there is something soothing about it to me. Bundling up to go outside or, even better, staying indoors in front of a cozy fire in the fireplace, watching a good movie in the better company of The Oracle.
Ah - my loving husband. He sits across from me right now watching YouTube videos of chicken wing recipes. We are going to a New Year's Eve open house this evening and he is planning to bring some kind of gooey chicken thing - wings & drumsticks bathed garlic & honey - or some-such.
Not my cup of tea but there will be several guests there who will, along with The Oracle, gather around the slow cooker and groan & moan with glee over the ooey, gooey goodness contained within.
Men - happy around food and drink in the company of like-minded souls. When we gather with this group of friends it is one of my favorite things about them. Men with facial hair (as most have some), dressed in jeans & flannel shirts. A few cowboy boots in the mix, some LL Bean shoes and even a pair or two of slippers. Talking and laughing.
No drama. No, not even from the women. :-)
We gather together in joy, friendship and love. Everyone will bring something to complete the evening's food offerings. There will be laughter, loudness and even times for quiet contemplation. Small conversations between old friends. Larger conversations that will ring out with the happiness of our gathering.
It's the perfect way to say good-bye to an extraordinarily difficult year and to welcome in a new one - filled with the promise of a blank slate on which to write a new history.
One that has peace, serenity and good health in equal measure.
Long time...no anything. As mentioned in previous posts, life certainly was more than challenging in 2015. As the year comes to a close I have to be honest and say...
...good riddance!
I will be so very glad to see time move into 2016 that I might actually stay awake for it. I can't remember the last time I was awake for the change in year - it just hasn't mattered that much. One year moving into the next is just the passage of time; nothing particularly special about it. But the coming change...may be something I not only need to see but may take a picture of. Whatever catches my eye at that precise moment - could be a throwaway, could be profound. Either way - the artist within me will capture it in some way that resonates with me.
I'm not one to make resolutions but the coming new year may also be an exception in that regard. I've spent so long in a dark cave of depression that I have neglected my physical health. I'm seriously overweight, I'm ducking doctor appointments and in general ignoring myself to the point of danger.
So the first thing on the personal schedule in the new year - beyond getting back into the swing of working after a 2 week break - will be to make a series of appointments so I can get back on top of my health. Which should, in the long run, help with the depression, with general energy levels and desires to be productive.
And yes - we have been away from work for 2 weeks now. Part of it planned and part of it not. I got my every-few-years-at-the-holidays bout of bronchitis. Diagnosed 4 days before Christmas in fact; it came on fast and as part of this "New Life Resolution" thing I've got going on - I got to the doctor as fast as I felt the symptoms rising.
Drugs - are a good thing. By the day after Christmas I was starting to feel like myself again.
Of course that's quite the loaded thought these days - feeling like myself. I'm still not sure what that is exactly but I do know - unequivocally - that it has GOT to be better than the "myself" I've been feeling for years.
I lost my way a bit on the idea of allowing the artist within me to come out. Too many upheavals in the past year have been allowed to get in the way of any hope on my part of immersing myself in the sacred sounds of the piano, the spirituality of needlework, the God-given gifts of my photography.
The storminess outside of me became the tornado within me; consuming everything in its path without regard for health, well-being, mental stability or even basic happiness.
I have willed that storm to subside...and am focused on that artist within again. To the point where I am working hard on the piece above - one of Beethoven's most beautiful piano sonatas - the 2nd movement of The Pathetique.
This is significant my friends - incredibly significant in my life. Because this piece of music was once the playground of another pianist in my family - people I don't speak to or of anymore for so many reasons that have been the major part of that aforementioned storminess.
The Pathetique was this particular family member's favorite piece of music. And whenever one of my music books would fall open to the notes of it - I'd run away in fear and anguish. As if the very notes held my life's torment within them.
My friends - they don't. They hold nothing within them except whatever Beethoven put there and whatever I bring out of them for myself.
For. Myself.
It took such emotional strength to let my fingers even rest on the piano keys with this music open before me; such physical strength to tease the notes out of my very soul - to let that glorious music speak to me in my own language.
Not the language of pain or abuse; rather the language of a person slowly recovering. A person learning who she is again.
That is the order of our day today. A quiet morning - indulged in a lovely, decadent second cup of coffee.
And now - fresh bread is baking, laundry is whirring and soft, gentle music pours forth from the Bose docking station.
This soundtrack music is - well, it's just...hmmm..........
I really have no words. I have - feelings. Oh, so many of those. This music stirs my very soul, the essence of my being. It is the musical form of my Tao.
The movie - Saving Sarah Cain - is a gem of a little film. A story of true redemption. About a person who seemed - unredeemable. It is a story about acceptance, honor, sacrifice and the kind of true love that goes so deep its roots are not traceable. It is a film I highly recommend to anyone...no matter where you are in your life, Sarah Cain will remind you of a part of yourself that, perhaps, you have ignored - or worse, forgotten - in the rush and hum of life.
Life - it does intrude, doesn't it. It steals time so quietly that it's almost too late before you realize it. You must be vigilant - ever-protective of those quiet moments that can just come upon you.
Moments of such perfect peace that they take your breath away. Moments that allow the quiet to settle on you like a warm, comfy blanket; cocooning you in peace & serenity.
Sounds good, doesn't it?
Seek it, my friends. Seek out that kind of quiet because if you don't - as The Oracle and I have learned in such dramatic fashion in the past few months - you might lose a piece of yourself and never get it back.
The Oracle and I have been on a self-imposed exile since the last weekend of July. We cleared our calendars of obligations and commitments so that we could focus on ourselves and each other. At first we said - let's do this thru the end of August. Then we said - thru the end of September.
Now...it's thru the end of the year. We do what we have to and we delicately pick thru what we want to do - and even in that we are judicious about what we say yes to. We have focused our time, attention and energy on - just the 2 of us.
It's been - rewarding, boring, exhilarating and peaceful. A time to renew our own Tao both as individuals and as a couple (though I think The Oracle would look at me in that oh-so-tolerant and bemused way at the word "Tao"). A time for deep, personal reflection. Some days it's a time to talk - so much talk, so much conversation. Other times, like today - it's quiet.
I sit here - typing away madly. The Oracle sits across from me - just idly surfing the 'web. We break our stride every so often to look at each other - maybe ask a question, maybe talk about something we are thinking about.
Sometimes - we just sit quietly and say nothing at all. Because in that silence, we say so much. We hear God between us in that silence. His grace fills us, sustains us, nourishes us. His love - is our love.
Well - haven't had much to say in the past month or so - clearly.
Except that I've had far too much to say and no desire to articulate it in any way. These have been darks times in my life, my friends. Dark times indeed. The very darkest to date.
Yet, now there is light. With constant prayer, being ever vigilant over my thoughts, my words, my every physical movement...
...I have finally reconnected with the joys in my life.
Wandering thru a dark woodland you are scared by every movement, every sound. The very shadows hold portents of negativity and fear. Each action you take is measured against the risk of a simple footstep.
It's exhausting. It wears you out like nothing else; your very breath becomes something to be welcomed and avoided in equal measure.
Frankly, my friends, I've been thru just one too many of these "dark times" in the past decade or so. I am so - over - these feelings. I just want to - be me.
To even find out what that means...a new journey at an age and time in life when most people have already answered that question - who they are.
Since I have spent the better part of 10 years fighting off darkness, demons and the expectations of others...I am delayed in finding out what I expect of myself.
No more delays will be allowed. This ship is sailing and nothing is going to make me turn back now. With God's grace, I found my joy again.
I found that part of me that can sing with abandon - on the inside. A major stress point in my life the past few months has finally resolved itself; and in so-doing as revealed a clarity and truth that I didn't expect.
You see, dearest ones, my marriage fell apart this past summer. For reasons far too complicated and personal to ever recount in any space of any kind - my 32 year marriage formed cracks that quickly turned into canyons. Divides so wide that The Oracle and I soon lost sight of each other.
If I'm to be truthful - these divides began about 6 years ago from forces outside of our relationship. We never noticed those cracks; they were small, subtle. Fissures deep in our souls that finally grew to a size that we had to notice, but choose to ignore.
Finally, the great canyons between us opened up and it seemed, for a long while, that we'd never find ourselves - or each other - again.
We fought - hard. Like warriors in trenches, we were bombarded by our own inadequacies, our own faults, our own pains flung like grenades at each other. And in between, long silences of such incredible anguish.
Darkness. Devoid of light from any source.
But fight we did - in it to win it as the saying goes today.
With God as our commander and ceaseless prayer the only rules of engagement we had, we retreated in a haze to find strength to get back in the trenches. Day after day, struggle after struggle, battle after battle. We persevered with God's enormous grace we remained committed to this relationship begun when we were just children really...making grown up decisions that would reverberate through our lives for 30+ years.
And in a moment of such exquisite harmony and gentleness, joy finally broke thru the smoke of a marriage broken in two. It's impossible to find any other source but God himself; speaking thru the all consuming darkness to tell me - Kris, be calm my child. Words spoken to me in stillness many weeks ago, their impact finally felt in the past few days.
This marriage - that has defined my life for so long now - has been brought to beyond the breaking point. And with God's love and strength to guide us, we have put those broken pieces back together. The whole of the thing looks - different now.
Like the Japanese art of Kintsugi - the practice of mending broken things with gold. The philosophy that the breakage and repair is part of the history of the thing, not something to be hidden but something to be embraced.
Like this bowl, we will never be the same whole that we once were. The canyons that we have repaired will always retain part of their own shape. The landscape of our marriage, indeed of who we are...those scars show a battle hard-fought and hard-won.
A battle born of true love, a fight waged to keep the total darkness at bay.
I am no fool; I know there will still be dark times ahead as we navigate this new way of being - getting used to the scars.
Yet joy - has been rediscovered. And it has changed, like the cracks in the tea bowl above. My joy is different - and in many ways it is far more beautiful now than it ever was.
The battles have made it beautiful. The battles have made me - beautiful.
She was but one of 2,996 innocent people whose lives were cut short by an act of terror so unspeakable in its scope that even now - 14 years later - it is difficult to comprehend.
Hers was a “soft” countenance and spirit – meaning that everything about her was kind, non-threatening, approachable - she was a perfect reflection of all that was good in humanity. She loved her family fiercely and was devoted to her parents. Those parents are dear friends whose lives have been ripped to pieces by the acts of monsters.
Her wedding to her gregarious, wildly successful fiancé was to have been early October 2002. By now there would likely be a child or 2 running around – she'd have made a wonderful mother, loving her children with a ferocity that is equal parts love and fear. Any child of hers would have been a much beloved niece or nephew and would have been deeply spoiled grandchildren. She was cherished by anyone who knew her. She had a thriving career – much sought after in the fields of real estate and finance. Her future was bright – filled with promise and surrounded by love.
The end of her life can be summed up in a few, meager sentences: Heather Lee Smith woke up at 5:00am on September 11, 2001. She kissed her fiancé good-bye as he snoozed and she grabbed a cab to Logan Airport. She went to the American Airlines counter to get herself on a stand-by waiting list where she was able to board Flight 11.
And just like that, Heather’s story ends. No more memories to be created.
The stories of nearly 3,000 other people ended on the same date – leaving a hollow place in the lives of so many. Think of how many people in your life would miss you should you leave them suddenly - think beyond your family, to your friends, coworkers, the guy at the coffee truck who always gives you a kind smile with your morning shot of caffeine. Is it 10, 20, 50, 100, 200 - likely more? Each one of us touches a few hundred lives in the course of our existence – multiply your own “number” by 2,996 – the number of actual victims of 9/11/01. It’s more than staggering isn’t it – all those people with a howling void in their lives.
Like so many others there isn’t a grave for Heather’s family to tend; no final resting place the family can visit for holidays, birthdays or no special day in particular; no place to leave Heather’s favorite flower - the humble sunflower. No physical place to ensure she is never forgotten. For her parents and their family & friends there will be nothing more than a marble panel or granite sculpture at a public museum to mark the final resting place of their much loved daughter. They have their memories of a life cut short at age 30; her mother once said to me that the hijackers stole her future.
As I have said in years past – we talk of these things, these unpleasant things like the pain and suffering and terror of the passengers, the nightmares in the WTC when people jumped rather than be trapped when the buildings collapsed, the brave souls on Flight 93 who forced the hijackers to die never reaching their target – so that we remember. 2,996 lights were extinguished by pure evil and we must remember them; we must show great courage in remembering them, for the memories can be so painful.
But remember them we must. For their sake, and ours. We must remember the sacrifice they made unwillingly. We must remember those who perpetrated this crime against the innocent people of our country. We must remember the pure nature of the victims and the evil nature of their killers.
Remember them we will – as Americans we share the burden of grieving for the victims of 9/11/01 and their families. If we forget Heather or the other victims, or if we abandon their families & friends, we do so at our peril.
What an absolutely glorious morning. Crisp air that hints at the coming autumn; bright sun bringing warmth without the harshness of summer's light. The last of the Hydrangeas in a small vase on the deck; fresh coffee on the table beside me. The Oracle, my gentle husband, curled up next to me.
On days like this - struggles seem very distant and all things seem possible.
Like the fingers of Michael Jones, passing so lightly over the piano keys, my spirit feels incredibly delicate yet as clear as the opening notes to the magnificent song above.
Life - has continued to kick me around more than I would like. There are good days, like today, and I revel in them. Like a cat giving cherished "bumps" to a beloved human, days like today are metaphorically bumped by my very soul. I drink in the scents on the breeze - Lemon Grass from the deck plantings, Basil from the herb garden, the sweet smell of decaying plant life and the dampness from the deep woods behind me.
It all gives me hope that maybe, after 5 weeks of the deepest, darkest torment and pain of my life, the good days will finally outnumber the bad.
Because the bad - are bad. The put your head down and push through kind of bad. The days where you don't want to make eye contact with anyone because you know they will see into your heart; defenses are nil. The kind of day when you go out to lunch with an old friend and insist that you sit outside on a very hot day so you can wear your sunglasses and the friend won't see the pain behind your eyes.
A succession of those bad days puts you down for the count in equal quantity.
But then a day like today comes - and you believe in the deepest places of your existence that the struggles you have faced with such courage - you really believe that you will overcome them.
With air this beautiful, that smells so sweet...how can it not be possible.
Hmmm - I started this new blog to give me a place to release inner thoughts, to put my words "on paper", as it were, to rejuvenate my inner artist.
Since my last post is a month ago - I'm counting that as a not great effort.
At. All.
Life - has spent quite a bit of that time kicking me around. Hard. The past few weeks I've been barely functional - dragging my sorry self around mostly going thru the motions until I can collapse in bed.
It's been a dreamless sleep for these past weeks; for which I am truly grateful. Any dreams my sub-conscious might conjure up would most surely be nightmares.
Times like these give a person - pause. Reflecting on decisions made that are long-past correction; coming to terms with difficulties that you never thought you'd experience.
Realizing that perhaps, just this once, God has over-estimated your strength and indeed given you a far greater burden than you can possibly bear. In fact, wondering what exactly the Heavenly Father thinks of you since he seems to truly believe that you are capable of more emotional endurance than YOU believe one person should have to experience in multiple lifetimes.
It comes at you from all sides - no angle of life-impact is left out of the mix. And it attacks your Faith - the Faith that saved your life once upon a time, the Faith that nourishes you daily with its rare and unparalleled beauty. That one area of life that provides a calm moment in what has become, at best, a sea of irrationality.
When you realize that even that calm moment is harder to pursue and achieve - you have to stop the clocks, clear the social calendar and "go to ground" - something you thought you were done with having to do.
And so - you go to ground, you retreat within yourself and try to reconnect to that voice, that voice that spoke to you when it saved your life; that voice that guided you through what you thought would be the worst experience of your existence.
In search of that voice that you hope will get you through the current experience - which makes the "other" worst experience...pale to nothing at all.
That voice - God's voice - speaks inside my head. He says to me, over and over again - "Kris, be calm my child." He implies that the burden I carry is a shared one, that he is ever-present, by my side.
I try to be calm and to feel that presence. My success rate right now is about 50%. Which is a vast improvement over 2 weeks ago.
You keep telling yourself that "this too shall pass"; your inner-circle of amazing friends assures you that it will pass. You trust them - not because they have equal or greater experience with this burden but because they love you and you love them. You trust them - because you know that if it all falls apart, if it doesn't "pass", they will be there to help you pick up and move forward. You trust them - because they never lie to you and they only want the best for you.
God - is my innermost circle. And he told me to "Be Calm" - and while my heart races and thumps like a freight train inside my body...I just keep repeating the words.
