Riding the Wave

I haven’t written a blog post in weeks – maybe even a couple of months. What’s that about? Well, I have been very busy! And that is good news.

In March of 2010 I was dragging and upset with the world because I wasn’t feeling good. This year I am so busy I can’t find time to sit still. I am really enjoying all of the activities I have going on in my life right now. The only problem is finding the time to do everything.

I am still following the food plan that I started on January 2, 2011. No dairy, no caffeine, no flour, no sugar. Shopping has been difficult and I have had a couple of close calls due to misrepresentation. I got all excited about Crystal Light having a new product that they were calling “Pure.” No artificial sweeteners. I was thinking that they were using stevia, but when I checked the package the first ingredient was sugar! A person has to be careful every minute.

People are telling me that I look healthy and happy and I have gone down a couple of jean sizes. It’s all working!

During the first week of April I went on vacation to Virginia Beach and Norfolk, Virginia. I lived there for 26 years and after being in New Hampshire for six years I was completely flummoxed by the traffic. I thought the turnpike between Nashua and Manchester was bad, but it has nothing on the expressway between Norfolk and the Oceanfront of Virginia Beach. I swear that two motorcyclists passed me doing at least 90 miles an hour while weaving in and out of traffic.

All that traffic didn’t slow me down though. I managed to see almost everyone who wanted to see me and who I wanted to see. I spent a couple of days walking in the Norfolk Botanical Gardens with my best friend, Barbara, had dinners with Laura and Chris, Deb, and Grace, walked in First Landing State Park with Peggy, and spent time on the beach with Suzanne and her kids. I also visited the shelter where I used to work and saw all the wonderful work that is being done there. I was so grateful to see Donna, Willmers, and Fran and the new stainless steel refrigerator in the shelter kitchen. I had wanted one of those for years and Fran had managed to find the money to get one!

I also was able to sit under my favorite tree in the world. It is an oak tree in the Norfolk Botanical Gardens under which I have sat with most of the people that I have loved. I have also spent a lot of time meditating there and I was grateful to see it still standing. I also managed to get some great photos of one of the eagles who have been nesting in the gardens.

The day after I got back from vacation I was at the Bike Barn in Manchester picking up the bicycle I had on lay away all winter. I managed to ride ten miles that first day and another seven the next. It felt so good to be back on wheels. I used to ride a lot back in the 80s and early 90s and I find it is like meditation for me. It clears my mind. When I was a teenager (and going through all the angst that is involved in those years) I used to get on my bike and ride for miles much to the dismay of my parents. One Saturday afternoon I got on my bike in Superior, WI, where I was in college, and rode the 50 miles to the town where my parents lived. Only one person knew what I was up to and she wasn’t going to tell anyone. I ended up at my Uncle Tiny’s bar and he loaded my bike in the back of his truck and took me the last three miles to my parents’ home. There was one last hill I didn’t think I could make before dark. It didn’t dawn on me until years later how much terror that had caused in my uncle and my parents. It had been less than two years since my favorite and beloved Uncle Elroy had been killed while riding his bike just three miles away from his home. This was a man who had ridden his bicycle the full circumference of Lake Superior and then died so close to home. I think I have a lot of him in me and I miss him to this day.

The week after vacation I came down with a stomach virus that had me down for at least six days. I managed to get through yoga teacher training weekend without a relapse but didn’t really feel I was going to live until the weekend was almost over. In fact, it was about 2:00 on that Sunday afternoon that I lay back on my yoga mat and said “I feel better!” I couldn’t believe it. It had happened in an instant. The only problem was that my appetite came back with a vengeance. Isn’t that how it always works?

Then I had String Camp at the music school for three evenings this week. I was so glad I was feeling better because I really wanted to get a taste for what it would be like to play chamber music with other musicians. It was wonderful. I managed to make a few contacts that could lead to playing in an ensemble this fall. The best part, though, was the concert on the last night of the camp. Well, actually the best part was the Pre-Twinkles playing their violins. The Pre-Twinkles are three, four, and five year-olds who are take Suzuki violin lessons. They were so cute! They were all dressed up and had little teeny violins. One little girl even had a pink violin. There was one little boy, though, who had stage fright and ran off to his mother as soon as they started to play. They did very well, though, considering, for most of them, it was their first time playing in front of an audience.

I have had a couple of people comment on what a nice life I have. It is true. I do. I worked long and hard to get here and there were a lot of really bad years. I have had jobs that were precarious, homes that were shaky, relationships that were iffy, and a lot of time spent wondering if life was ever going to get better. It has. I also know that life is like riding a wave. Sometimes I am on top of it and other times I am slammed face down in the sand. I am going to enjoy riding this wave as long as it lasts.

Special Places

I have been fortunate to have had many special places in my life. Places that took me away from whatever stress or drama there was in my life and allowing me to be fully present with myself.

My first special place was an apple tree in the backyard of the small farm where my family lived when I was in grade school. It had the perfect branch onto which I could climb and lay back, read a book or look up through the leaves at the blue sky above. The sunlight would sparkle through the leaves and the breeze would lightly blow across my face. On early summer days I could smell the strawberries from the patch nearby. I remember watching clouds pass over head and the sensation of the earth spinning beneath me. Those were my first days connecting with nature.

We eventually moved into town and my special place was anywhere I could find on my bicycle. As it is with so many teenagers, adolescence was not kind to me and I struggled with a whirlwind of emotions and hormones as I came of age in a small town on the edge of Lake Superior. I would get on my bike and peddle as hard and as fast as I could along US Hwy 2. The highway ran along the southern edge of Chequamegon Bay past the old ore docks and the paper mill and further on to the Bad River Indian Reservation. There were times I did not want to turn back.

During the spring of my freshmen year at the University of Wisconsin in Superior, I left class late on a Friday morning and told a friend that I was heading out on my bicycle and that if I wasn’t back in a couple of hours that I had probably decided to go all the way to Iron River – 50 miles away – where my parents lived. And that is what I did. Riding along US 2 on an April day in 1975 I was passed by big rigs and felt their pull against my wheels. The sky was clear and I rode past dairy farms and pastures. I can still remember the rush I felt as I went mile after mile. When I reached Iron River I went into my Uncle Tiny’s bar and announced that I had just arrived by bicycle from Superior and that I really would appreciate a ride the last four miles to my parent’s home. I had reached my limit and knew the hilly terrain between town and their cabin would probably undo me.

When I arrived, my mother went white as a sheet and my father was uncharacteristically speechless. I didn’t realize until a few years later that all three of them, my uncle and my parents, were all remembering how my Uncle Elroy had died on that same highway two years earlier while riding his bicycle. What I had done had been thoughtless and ill conceived but I still remember the freedom I felt as I moved through the northern Wisconsin landscape.

Over the next few years my life changed drastically and my next special place was a rocking chair. This was the place where I would sit in the middle of the night while holding my son. I would rock quietly and hum while running my hand softly over his face and eyes. His eyes would close and then slowly open again in rhythm with the rocking of the chair and as I passed my hands over his face one last time he would drift off to sleep.

I lost myself in my twenties as my marriage ended and I was left on my own in Norfolk, VA. If there was a special place during those years it would have been O’Hara’s Bar on Ocean View Avenue. I only call it special in that there was little else in my life then. I will leave that story for another time and move on to a place that is still special in my heart.

Norfolk, Virginia has a spectacular botanical garden. It is placed near the airport and is surrounded by brackish inlets that eventually lead out through Little Creek Naval Station to the Chesapeake Bay. In late March and April the garden is full of blooming azaleas in a variety of sizes and colors, in May the rose garden is the site of many weddings and in June and July there are hydrangeas around every corner. Geese, ducks, heron, and a pair of bald eagles make their homes in the garden and spring brings a parade of goslings around every corner.

There are walking paths all through the garden and at any time of day you may find families with strollers or exercise enthusiasts out for a run. There are plenty of places to stop and sit, an herb garden, a duck pond with a fountain, a bench along the water, but my favorite spot was on a bench next to an old oak tree near the waterway where the paddle boat would take visitors out to the larger lake. This tremendous oak sits at the foot of an old stone bridge made from cobblestones from the streets of Norfolk and is estimated to be over 250 years old.

While sitting on the bench beneath the tree I could watch the sunlight dance on the water, feel the breeze across my face and sway in my seat with the movement of the willow tree across the water. There was little that could break the peace of the moments underneath my oak tree.

I am fortunate to have spent much time sitting under that tree with a number of people who have meant the most to me, my best friends, a goddaughter, and a lover. I could feel the energy of the tree surrounding us all, moving through us in a healing and loving way. I would always bow to the old oak as I left and thank it for the time and energy it had given, and for the peace of mind that I felt during the time sitting beneath its outstretched branches. I was blessed when I left Norfolk with a picture of that special spot as seen from across the water. From my living room couch I can see the bench, the bridge, the willow and the welcoming arms of the old oak tree and remember the moments alone and with others.

I continue to find and create special places in my life, alone or with others. These places create the map of my life and remind me of loved ones come and gone. I encourage everyone to find and remember their special places.