Revitalizing Sensory Magic In A Season Of Struggle; Back to BEING Seen.
It had been five years since we had crossed the floor of the establishment. The wooshing of the door swept us into the Diner while rock music played and the smell of delicious spices filled the air. Abe's was a locally owned and operated celiac friendly diner with superior food choices. We used to head towards the mountains often with our family of five, and Abe's gave us a sense of food safety, cheery dialogue and delicious delight.
After we ordered our Gluten free brownie for our appetizer and our burgers for the main course, we soon found the owner, Louis, at our table with an exuberant, "I KNEW it was you! As soon as I heard the order for a brownie first, I thought, these are my people, the interesting ones who eat dessert first always, even with younger kids!" We caught up with him and it felt like we were still five years younger, as if no time had passed at all, and we were still considered unique enough for an owner to remember us.
I had been struggling with age related changes; new wrinkles, crinkled skin around the elbows, translucent older hands, eye puffiness and feeling the creak of new pains and chronic illness related aging. I was feeling a bit too old for this world, washed out, irrelevant, with all the large moments behind me. (I know it's maybe laughable for those older than me, but approaching forty with chronic illness has not been a picnic either within this new transition, after three months of varied sickness and a semi bedridden state. I knew I should feel so grateful for all that I have, but the new step into a different phase of life was still a transition I was coming to terms with.)
Louis excitement and genuine interest in us, made us feel a bit hip (if that is a word that is even used anymore!) or at least, memorable. Buffered by his statements, I felt revitalized. Which triggered a question to myself, "What little moments in daily life can you notice to revitalize the magic of BEING?"
Sensory is both my magic and my hardship. Isn't that the way life tends to go? Each moment can be used for good or ill. Bad things can be transformed or redeemed. Goodness can become corrupt or perverted. Life is BOTH/ AND. But sometimes, I can focus my lens too much on what I am doing wrong or all the new lines and bags of my skin, and forget to look into the beauty both around me and in me. This body may not work at optimal and trigger me into phases where I do not feel like my full self, but it is also my vessel in this world. I smile, hug, love and write with this precious vessel of imperfection. Using my senses, I can choose to hold into perspective, the sensory around my day, that gives LIFE.
So, in that vein of thought, without further ado, the moments I have taken notice of since Louis triggered me back into BEING:
* A Million Dreams soaked into the walls as my son gracefully played the tune from the piano in his room. At least once a day, he will sit, sometimes for hours at a time, and just play his heart out. Minutes later, my home is echoing with remnants and reverberations of rhythm and soul. Our company will ask, "Who is playing? That is so beautiful." My heart will swell with joy, that my son, who could never attend piano lessons, attends to the joy in his expression and becomes one with the music.
* Silence and the quiet evening hush is often interrupted by the tiny chomping noises down the hall. It is my cat eating his food at night. It sounds like someone eating corn pops. I will often smile and get tingles of memories from holidaying as a child and eating out of the mini boxed corn pop containers with a dollop of poured milk inside. That sound has tones of water lapping from lakeside days, and towel scratching sun soaked afternoons. Often most of the house is already snoozing, but the cat and I are awake, visiting moments of satisfaction; His in nurturance of the body and mine in nurturance of mindful memories.
* Witnessing my name in an a published book and having a little blurb in another chapter! Thanks Jenna and Jennifer for this amazing opportunity and friendship! LINK HERE. I am going to hopefully gobble up this book this weekend! Woot. I am just so ecstatic for Jenna and Jennifer!
* In the midst of catching up with a friend I had not seen in over four years, the conversation was swiftly changed when she remarked, "Oh, how lovely! I have not heard that sound in such a long time. I absolutely love your husband's laugh. It's so full of joy. You do not get to hear that sound much but it makes my heart happy." I felt proud and happy that my husband not only is admired in his hearty laughter by me, but gets the deserved notice from others and they in turn find some joy.
* The burnt smell of glue gun greeted me as I walked into my eldest son's room as he was creatively making stop motion pieces. My mind stuttered out of the to do list I was compiling in my head and flowed into awe at how brilliant his actions in life can be. (Picture above is his requested Punk birthday we did on the fly!)
* My daughter's laugh is loud in the best possible way. I can hear her joy from across the house. I recently read a quote that stated; "You are so much sunshine to square inch." Walt Whitman. Of course, I sent it to my daughter because it summed her up in a nutshell. She has so many strong emotions, that often I need to step back for a moment to gather my bearings, but sometimes, I forget to just allow the beauty of them to BE different from me.
* My eyes were craving green. In the past I had not had success with green in rooms. Being partial to emerald green, but having darker light, I needed to find a green that filled my constant craving for depth in colour ( I tend to shy away from any cold colour as paint in my home) without being drowned in tones of grey or lime. I woke up one morning deciding to change a few pieces of furniture, but we ended up clearing most of a wall, so I thought, why not try painting green while I'm at it? In one afternoon and evening, I had painted three coats of a colour I randomly picked online called Evergreens, after phoning into my local store, charging it to my convenient hubby's carpenter account, and hoping it worked in my house. (Not the smartest idea but I was in one of my "mad creative moods where there is no reasoning" as my husband likes to describe it as.) I briefly mudded, and put the entire kitchen back to a new arrangement. My dining/ kitchen is my trickiest space in my house due to the multiple pathways and as the Genie in Aladdin states, "Itty, bitty living space." I had always wanted to bring a lounging chair into the kitchen. My husband thought it was unrealistic and slightly indulgent but in the end I won. While not my favourite green, the colour chosen, wasn't icky either, and evokes a feeling of freshness I do not fully get in the rest of my home. I read once that people tend to be the most opposed in their feelings towards green in the home. For myself, this time, I am loving the new beginnings it begets.
* Bella Grace click (And their other publication The Field Guide to Magic which is tough to find here in Canada) is my occasional money indulgence. Sometimes I cringe at the amount I am spending on a magazine which could go toward bills or groceries, but each time I can afford the splurge, it is worth the extra pennies. (I guess I am aging myself in my phrases!) Recently I cozied up on the kitchen lounger I had moved from a room downstairs and read to my husband while he cooked up savoury chili. The aroma of garlic accompanied my voice, as I choked back tears at some of the beautiful words in each article I traversed. My husband would give an occasional thought or chuckle or vocal "hmmmm" and I realized, I did not just invest in a magazine, I invested in a moment, a marriage, an inspiration and a delight.
*My youngest stopped to kiss my forehead as he does each time he enters or leaves any room I am in. This time, as he departed, a mischievous grin crept upon his face as he stated in a deep voice, "And now I must go, I have smart things to do and handsome mirrors to meet. Goodbye fair maiden." And as usual he left me with cheery mirth as my companion. I love hearing his brother and him chuckle and whisper on their almost nightly sleepovers exchanging mattresses in each room.
*Lisette is a mystic, astronomer and guide I met this year who lives on the bottom of my continent while I live near the top. Not being on social media, it is a bit odd that we recently connected. We had a mutual friend who had stated to each of us that we would like each other and simply had to meet. Dear Amy, set up an appointment through Zoom for us. What was supposed to be a half hour official appointment ended up being a four hour chat and an exchange in our talents instead. Both Lisette and Amy had heard about the unusual death of my brother in law in the Autumn and wanted to give support. Lisette told me that due to my Scorpio nature, the next few months would be reliant on friends and family for wage. Frankly, I dreaded that and was hoping it wasn't entirely accurate, but as these things go, it was not in the way I assumed. My husband, a carpenter, ended up getting work, project to project, based on people we knew from that moment onward. I love it when the messages of love, spirit, temperament, environment and personality open up to the dialogue and flow of life. On Friday I get to connect again. In the meantime, Amy, our mutual friend has been editing another project I have in my creative fires, and has given me much to ponder, appreciate, savour and be thankful for. Free time given from a friend is so valuable.
*The times that I have gone up in size, I usually DREAD or try to avoid shopping for bigger clothes. I tell myself it's temporary and to not get comfortable. The problem with this mentality is that I am not only uncomfortable but constantly cranky from tight pants and restrictive fits. Luckily, I re wardrobe our entire family at a consignment store called Platos Closet. We have not bought new items in over a decade unless it is of the personal nature. Thus, wardrobe changes are often fairly cheap. My weight fluctuates regularly, seasonally and in chronic illness phases. I range from a size 6 (the smallest I personally have ever been) to a size 12. Generally I feel my best at a size 7/8. Knowing this, I usually keep clothes from every size, but last Spring I went from a 12 to 7 in three months, and never wanting to go back, I got rid of most of my clothes in hopes of prevention. Gah. I annoy myself. Anyway, my husband took me last month to buy a few fitting outfits in the size 10 I find myself in. I almost cried at the cute outfits that would not fit, and the reflection of the ones that did...but the silver lining was a moment when I saw the employees, some of whom were double my size, rocking outfits and looking far more beautiful than I felt. Suddenly, I took off my sizest lens. I thought, "Hey, at home I may be surrounded by only skinny friends and be the largest one, but out in the world, it's a range...and these girls are incredibly beautiful. Skinny does not mean successful. Skinny does not mean altogether perfect. Skinny does not mean that I am worthy. Cellulite should not define me. It does not mean I do not make wise choices in food or am lazy. It does not mean I have completely fallen off the bandwagon of health." And just like that, my perspective changed to the statement, "I GET to buy new clothes" instead of "I HAVE to buy new clothes." I will probably be writing about this again, as it is my ever struggle, but for now, as I strive on the treadmill and hope for a bit of loss, I am reminding myself not to live in "if only."
*My sister crafted a Gluten free high tea that tasted better than the posh Banff Springs Hotel High Tea. I love freely roaming Banff Springs, but they have nothing on my sister's creations! Holding the little cucumber sandwiches and tasting the delightful orange meringues, my tongue sizzled with sweet and savoury sensory satisfaction.
* Since November we have had a month and half long Influenza, followed a few weeks later by our family getting Covid. My husband had missed a bit of work. I missed three full holidays. It had been three years since we had experienced even a cold ( as far as contagious illness goes! So I supposed it was our turn.) A friend recently learned of a myriad of inner struggles we have had since, and gifted us with a gift card to Costco. I choked up a bit as I struggle with taking and not giving immediately back, but also with the lovely words she accompanied with her gifting. Our fridge was almost empty and I had been creatively serving whatever I had when company came calling. Popcorn and tea mostly topped the list. I also like to show up to people in need or whom are grieving in our community, so often my gifts are from my own pantry, home decor, or gift box I keep with collected discount items for such occasions. We have been semi- rich and we have been semi-poor. I don't think, from the outside looking in, that most people can tell which seasons we are in, with the house the way it is, and the lucky lifestyle we have. What I love about the poor moments, is that they taught me how to be savvy. Even in our richer states, I don't buy new clothes, I still buy on discount or sale or wholesale, and I thrift often. I apply for suiting programs I hear about when I can. I enlist extended family on hunts. Recently, my father knew we were driving the entire winter with bald tires on our one shared vehicle (a van my husband also uses for work. In a rural area that can get to weeks of -20- -30 Celsius vehicles are a MUST and the crazy fuel prices have been incredibly restrictive. ) My dad knew this because we would borrow mom's vehicle at the beginning of the month for our Costco city trip. Thus, he searched, and yesterday we fit our (new to us) cheap winter tires on our vehicle almost in time for Spring. Which means we will definitely be driving on them this summer, but oh how lucky and free we feel to be able to drive out of town without asking our parents permission. Ha!
*Shimmering specks float off our frost covered trees. The dreary fog plays an accompanied symphony on the background of the canvas. I live for sunshine but sun moments can still be found. There is something beautiful to a repressed landscape covered in crystal, snowy white as far as the eye can see. The air is heavy with condensation. Chilled, the fireplaces turn on, the Earl Gray Cream tea is brewed, and globs of raw honey are consumed. These are the days for writing. These are the days for wordy bliss and speculative imaginings. These are the days for transfiguring womb time.
In complete honesty, most of my regular readers probably already notice that I tend to take less pictures in seasons of weight and chronic illness struggle. I am trying to be more active about savouring the good so I have included the few I have taken here. Spring is around the corner. I can feel the hopeful awakening. The earth is getting ready with new shoots under the surface of ice. New beginnings are gestating. Womb time is almost over and the re birth is ready to give, become, and grow. I anticipate, while also reminding myself about the beauty of the remnants in late winter. Cushioning, comfort, weighted belonging, tea and book studies, and blanketed movie nights are wonders too. Whispered conversations with High School besties about vulnerable and intimate topics, just in case a teen ear may be trying to listen, can be just as satisfying as exuberant laughter and raucous joy.
This was our today …
Whatever season you are in literally and figuratively, remind yourself of the simple daily pleasures. Remind yourself that it's ok to BE. You are worthy and worth love simply because you exist.
Love;
Note: My ordinary struggles tend to surround chronic and contagious illness and go hand in hand with mental dips into depression ( influenced also by autistic sensory issues) , existential crisis ( this time aging) and marital issues when both of us have been sick for months and our relationship was not fully up to par. I want to state that I have enjoyed a beautiful existence otherwise, with many, many incredible friendship moments and I KNOW I have a lot. However, that does not negate the true gritty struggle of balancing a condition with recovery of contagious illnesses on top, plus the mental spiral that is real and legitimate. I have not been at my best. But I have hope for another version of myself to emerge from this frazzled cocoon.
Song Choice:
Nicole Mullen and Kathie Lee Gifford created a ten-minute narrative song called The God Who Sees. When I first heard it, I wept. For the next month it was the soundtrack for my treadmill sessions, when I was worried in bed, or on a drive. My family would tease, “I heard mom this morning singing and crying on the treadmill…no wonder she was out of breath later!” The song opens with the biblical story of Hagar and then Nicole begins to sing, “She’s crying in the desert, she’s lost in her despair. She thinks nobody loves her. Hagar thinks nobodies there. But God says, ‘I will be a ring of fire around her, and I will be the glory in her midst. And the power of my presence will bring her to her knees, and I will lift her up again, for I’m the God who sees.” In the music video, near the end, a ring of burning fire, in a setting in Jerusalem, surrounds Nicole. It was both what I would call ‘witchy’ but also incredibly sacred and full of God. The image of God being a ring of fire around me both humbled and empowered my perspective of life. “She’s hoping for a future, praying God will lead her there…” I often wonder if I have more moments left for my future. I have had a beautiful, full existence, but nearing forty, I have often felt I had all the “big” moments already. “David thinks his life is over, and God he doesn’t care. But God says, ‘I will be the rock of your salvation. I’ll hold you up by the strength of my right hand. And the power of my Spirit will free you from your fear. In the hour of your deepest need, you’ll find that I am near. I am here. Because I will be the ring of fire around you. I will be the glory in your midst. And the power of my presence will bring you to your knees, and I will lift you up again for I’m the God who sees.” My spirit felt validated. If David felt that way, and his heart was after God, it was ok for me to feel that way too. Of course, I did not have to hide in the desert from my own son (that would be an ultimate low) but I had my own struggles. I, like Hagar, often hope for a future while also wondering and questioning my worth for such a thing. “She’s crying in the garden. She’s broken in despair. She’s searching for her saviour, but his body isn’t there. Then He says, ‘Mary, glory, glory, halleluiah, I will be the glory in your midst. And every knee will bow to me and every tongue confess, and yes all the world will worship me in all my holiness. And I will be the ring of fire around you and I will be the glory in your midst. And the power of my presence will bring you to your knees, and I will lift you up again for I’m the God who sees…who sees you in your wilderness, sees you in your brokenness, when you’re feeling lonely, in the desert places, in your empty spaces, I’m nearer then you dare believe. Here in the very air you breathe. I am the God who sees You.’”
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