Weeds

 Out at the farm again  to pick raspberries and beans.  I realized how much I let the garden go this year. With all the rain we had  my ignoring of the garden in July led to 6-7 ft tall weeds in the garden.  

I’m tired.  I think I’m ready to be done with gardening.    Perhaps thats why i don’t feel great loss. I’m ready to be done.   Something in me has switched off.    Do I believe that?   Time will tell. But the tiredness runs deep

First time back at the farm

 Yesterday I went out to the farm and had the oddest sensation.  I had a list of to dos. But no energy.  I did what I could and then started to pick beans (not many big enough) but felt sort of woozy and disoriented, more psychologically than physically     I definitely wasn’t in productive mode.    Then today was another long deep sleep day.  Perhaps I AM fighting off some sickness.   But it crosses my mind that my body is just starting to grok that something has changed and the body mind disconnect may be the disorientation.  I’m curious what tomorrow will feel like 

Tired

 Today was one of exhaustion and deep sleep.  I think the depletion of the last few months caught up with me.  I struggled to get thru the water. Only walked ,3i mi  and ate a whole box of cookies.    But I’m writing now  and will keep on putting one foot in front of the other til I make it into my new Life.   I rather like the feel of its newness,  the order that is starting to evolve in my new space.   Perhaps this is how to get to the endlessly awaited  “rebirth of wonder”.   To move forward with curiosity into……?

Third Day

 I’m starting new habits      Three days is only the first step, but 30 will be the beginning of new habits.   I still find myself wondering Who is the decider in me that is the architect of both the move but also the shedding of old skins, the driver of the new habits?  Perhaps the daily walks will become something I look forward to? Perhaps the daily journaling will get me back into writing…. But somehow I feel the presence of a part of me who is taking me in hand, who wants me to step into something new, not necessarily better, just different..  and for some reason, it makes me feel hopeful.  Like an older Me is reaching back accross time and guiding me. All I have to do is do it one step at a time

Working out the kinks

 second day living in Madison.  I still don’t feel it I’m busy sorting storing ironing out the wrinkles     When will it hit me , the enormity of what I’ve just done.   Starting new habits  drinking 2 lots of water, walking and journaling every day.   Who is this person who decided to do this?  Away from my beloved fields of switchgrass    I’m waiting for the pattern to emerge     But who am i now?  What am I growing toward?  

First day of the rest of my life

 I moved.    I packed up my life piece by piece   I picked up each object or picture or writing and decided   I decided to keep or give away or toss, burn and bury.    I did it one step at a time, one foot infront of the other.  And Now I’m living in a little 350 sq ft apt above Adams garage        I feel.   I don’t know yet.   I feel  relieved that it’s done I feel tired and in pain.  I feel determined   To be open to whatever comes.   I want to know  What else is possible???

Orpheus

I've used the metaphor a lot in my blog over the years since Gi's death, but now it may be more useful than ever. 
I've been stirring up sludge.  What I understand of the Lyme process I'm going through is I stir up bio film where the bad guys hang out and then flush them.  It involves times where I feel like crap; I'm in one of those now.   I was feeling pretty good for a couple of months, and have slipped into a crash and burn body moment.   
Ah  but here's were the metaphor may be most useful,  it's the soul demons that are stirred up too which make this an epic struggle.   Doubt, fear, desire, neediness, fear, grief,       fear.   I've done a pretty good job dealing with the the surface of all of these over the years, thought I'd really done a good job of grieving.   But now the deep stuff has been stirred up   and  boy is it dark in here!

Orpheus descended into Hell to find his beloved Eurydice, his Soul mate  and bring her back into the land of the living.  He had his music, which could make the animals stop still to listen, and advise on how to proceed, "don't look back, have faith and keep your eyes on the Life you're returning to".

So  I'm conversing with fear,  and  desire,   and loss, loss, loss.    And not trying to appease and dismiss them, move on to more pleasant subjects.  I'm hanging out in the darkness and getting wet.  Not sure if I'll be able to bring my Life Force, my creative energy back to the surface of my life.  But I've felt half buried since Gil died.  Perhaps this is the time to stir the sludge. 
It reminds me of a Sappho poem I encountered as a teen "If you are squeamish, don't prod the beach rubble"   I've always been a prodder and not too squeamish.
Perhaps it's time to crank my music!!!