We rescued this Victorian chair from the dump a few years ago. Now she sits in the barn dusty with hay. The way the worn pink fabric hangs from the top of the chair makes it look like she’s wearing a shoulderless dress.
I got up as the sun was rising this morning. I was feeling low and thought waking up with the sun might help.
Fate and I walked into the woods behind the house. I wasn’t yet light, but my eyes adjusted and I know the path well enough to follow it. When we got to the shagbark hickory, Fate ran off towards the field on the edge of the property line and started barking.
On all the walks we’ve ever taken in the woods, Fate has never barked at anything.
When she sees a chipmunk, rabbit, or deer she’ll quietly chase them for a short distance then turn back.
I called Fate back and she came right away, but it was too dark for me to see what she was barking at.
I know we have a bobcat who travels our woods and bear have a path they follow on the edge of the property. We see and hear lots of evidence of coyotes. So we stood still a while, waiting, then as I started to walk, Fate again ran in the same direction barking.
This time I called her and we headed back to the farm. I know any of these animals would try to avoid a human, but I’m not sure how they’d react to a barking dog.
Back home I tossed some hay to the sheep and donkeys and looked at the chair next to the remaining bales of hay. Tired and worn on the outside, underneath, her frame is still sturdy and strong.
I feel like all the fears and difficulties of the new reality we live in now came crashing down on me last night.
I spent the day trying to pull myself back together. I don’t have a fraction of the heartache and worries that so many other people have during this time, yet still, it affects me.
My moods, which are always fluid from moment to moment, seem even more erratic. My anxiety needs a lot of exercise (I did an hour of bellydancing this morning) and Jon tells me my edge is sharper than usual (to put it nicely).
I think the reality that our lives will be permanently changed because of the coronavirus hit me. Usually, I’m hopeful about it, thinking of the possibilities of the good changes as well as the bad. But today the good eluded me.
Maybe this is a stage, like the stages of grieving, that I need to allow myself to feel. Usually when I drop so low, the next day I feel better, as if I’ve gone as deep as I can and knowing I’ve weathered the worst I move in the opposite direction.
I do believe that, beneath it all, like the old chair in the barn, I’m sturdy and strong and able to deal with whatever comes my way. This is a new one though, and it might take some more time and adjusting.
Keep following your art and it will lead you through this. I had a rough night and morning too. I love what you are doing.
The writing helps doesn’t it Janet.
Your post really resonated with me, Maria. I feel like I go into the woods with you. Your description and video remind me of the woods I played in as a child. I would love to have a similar place to walk. More importantly, the description of your mood mirrors how I feel many days lately. The analogy of the pink chair is very wise. We are strong underneath, and sometimes our edges are sharp or raggedy. Love that.
Yes we are strong Doris. And sharp and raggedy too. I like thinking of you playing in the woods as a child.
I’m so glad you shared this, I’ve found this week to be really hard too. Like you, trying to get through it by keeping busy, not sitting and stewing, with a mix of walking and physical work (prepping beds in the veg garden), some down time, some yoga. Also I find it so calming to throw the chickens a handful of birdseed, and just sit and watch their interactions and little murmur noises as they find every last seed! Sometimes, just a big cry to let out some of what I’m feeling!
All good things to do Hannah. I love watching our hens too. There is something peaceful about them. It might make a good thirty second meditation so thanks for the idea.
Thank you for your thoughts and reflections, Maria. I really enjoy hearing what you think. I also have to say that the 30 sec. meditations are fabulous. Each one is a delight. Please continue to do them – they really are inspiring and helpful during this tough time. Take care.
Thanks for letting me know Marian. And I will do more of my meditation. It’s good to know you’re there.
Do some reading on the Flower Moon, a super moon, that will be full tomorrow night. It’s causing a chaos of emotions!
I’ll look for it tonight.
Reminder that there’s a full moon on Thursday, they always affect my mood so I have them marked on my calendar. It helps me to be aware of why I’m having a difficult time adjusting to daily life some days. I’m almost 80 and I’ve followed this way of thinking for the past 40 years. I’m also a Pisces and that’s a water sign. The moon controls the ebb and flow of water and that’s mostly what our bodies consist of. Hope you’re feeling better soon.
I’m sure the full moon doesn’t help Bonnie!
Yes, the writing keeps me sane. And thank you for yours!