Savoring the bittersweetness of life
I am here because you are not.
Those words repeated in my mind as I surveyed the bountiful acreage framed with tall evergreen trees steadily swaying in the log pole pine rocking chair on the covered open planked porch of the lodge that would be my home for the coming week.
I was on a wellness retreat with an intimate group of women on a 600-acre Horse Ranch in Montana, home to horses, farm dogs, and a barn cat named Otis, bordered by broad mountain peaks and ranges, big sky, plush and prolific soil and turf, and open-aired fields and prairies.
I was a lone spirit on new terrain, a body based on new ground, writing from my deepest wounds of death, mystery, and awe. An existence I never forecasted yet knew would come but tried to persuade for another time.
In that tender moment, as I scribbled the words to the page, in between keeping a faithful eye on the cattle grazing in the pasture past the 4-picket split rail fence, I sensed I was not alone. That even in the depths of my solitude, I have never been nor would be. An instinctual knowing that I belong to something larger than myself.
On that late warm summer afternoon, as I sat in the comfort of my company, shaded by lush forest greens, deep auburn, and soft yellows and blues, soaking in the fresh smell of pine and sun-bleached pasture and cows mooing and bellowing in conversation, I looked out into the world as if looking through a new lens.
I would not be seated on the frame of the porch in a country chair on a picturesque ranch in Montana if it were not for the death of my father and Jax. I would not have left home, postponed the trip for another time, or if I had gone with them still alive, I would have been worried about their condition, wondering if they were well and if something would happen in my absence.
For the first time in 16 years, I was away without worry. As poignant as that realization was, I felt a shift in my body, my heart swell with gratitude as soft, salty tears fell from my chin, wetting the page. That moment and opportunity was a gift from my father and Jax.
It had been months since I felt grounded and safe with a deep sense of connection, and I felt free in ways I never have. I did not feel the false pull and urgency to rush forward, to know how my story would continue to unfold.
I was home and held in the devoted hearts and hands of the land. I invited my spirit to rest and my body and mind to grow and evolve at nature's pace, at a speed at which my soul thrived.
Pausing in the perfect blend of parts, I bathed in the pure miracle of being alive, treasuring a vision realized. I co-created this experience, saying yes to a dream even when caught up in scarcity, worry, and doubt. I was pleased and proud, inhaling the savory bittersweetness of life.
We are not promised tomorrow, and we and those we love are a gift. In all the rushing and attempts to protect, control, analyze, and figure out, we detach ourselves and miss life's great sacred secret.
When we learn to embrace the uncomfortable and heartbreaking moments alongside the joy and ease, we experience the wealth of life – love, loss, and the vast array of emotions at their finest, creating the context for profound meaning and purpose.
That precious moment on the porch was one I welcomed and celebrated with my dad and Jax.
I am who I am today and will continue to become because of their existence and death, admiration, and devotion. Through our shared collaboration and witnessing their lives, I have collected, accumulated, and bared more love, wisdom, grace, courage, beauty, and resilience.
Their bodies are gone, yet their spirits remain forever in my heart, body, memory, stories, and the limitlessness of the universe.
I carry them forward as I head out into the expansive new world. The view is spacious and bright. The road ahead is wide with endless possibilities, magic, and mystery. A new chapter has yet to be written and is mine to co-create.
In case you missed last week's post - Sophistication of Sensation - I share a story about the day I decided to take the leap and book the retreat I write about here.
Prompt
A lone spirit on new terrain…
The road ahead is wide with endless possibilities…
Grab a pen and paper or your favorite journal. Set your timer. Write for 15 minutes, pen never leaving the page. See what words flow.
I would love to hear about your journey and experience with the prompts and process of flow writing. Hit *reply* to share or *click* and leave a comment.
Free Online Writing Workshops for Women
I am hosting two free writing opportunities for women to explore. You can read more about the details for each workshop below:
Grief Writing Workshop for Women: Thursday, September 14, 6:00 – 7:30 p.m. PST.
Workshop details HERE and enroll HERE.
Intuitive Writing for Women: Sunday, September 17, 9:30 – 11:00 a.m. PST.
Workshop details HERE and enroll HERE.
I'm looking forward to facilitating these workshops again, and I hope you can join. You will love the healing and uplifting energy that transpires.