Reading over my last post and thinking about my state of mind, body and spirit in this year alone, 3 months in, lament appears to be a theme. I believe anger walks alongside lament, many times hand in hand. Deep feelings and woundings can be greatly felt in these moments, and I am choosing to feel them. It’s easier to name the laments of a world outside of my control, decisions others make that may cause me and others pain, healing in a body that is tired of procedures, and a hospital system I struggle with that is constantly changing and missing the former years. The internal laments, my own personal laments, are much harder.
My word for this year is listening. It’s not only an active listening that I engage with others and the outside environment, but an internal gut listening, I recognize and at times ignore. This is a muscle I am needing to flex more and strengthen. Reflecting on listening to my own internal self, I find myself recently lamenting my own limitations. I have struggled lately, since this last surgery, with anger and difficulty receiving and wanting help. It is Spring. I have looked forward to this year of “experimenting” on my family farm with planting veggies and creating a pollinator’s haven, alongside working the blueberries. The weekend after this surgery my bulbs came. I have eagerly awaited their arrival. I felt excited and helpless at once. I was limited in what I could lift, how far I could stretch, and the pain of this surgery was greater than expected.
I felt a deep rage and as I sat with what it was teaching me, I realized the deeper feelings were helplessness and a deep sadness. I love this newfound passion for gardening and working the land. It feeds my soul, and I couldn’t do it at this time. My husband and dear friend wanted to help, and I accepted it. Granted it was hard to stand back and tell my husband what to do and not do it myself, but it got done. My dear friend that has been pruning with me, came and planted corn, cucumbers, and helped dig holes for my lily garden. It was special and even though I still felt helpless, I enjoyed time well spent with those I love.
As I sat with this rage that held deep sadness and helplessness, I found myself struggling with loving certain others. Mostly those in greater leadership who make decisions and are examples of the greater community/nation. I have been more baffled, embarrassed, angered, and confused since January and the shift in power. This lent I chose to add something instead of take something away. I added praying for those that I don’t understand, I struggle with (greater and personally), and work within that struggle to understand from my own self why I struggle and what shadow side of myself I don’t want to accept. I learned this work around shadow through enneagram and my time in ACPE.
Engaging the 30 minutes everyday to this time in prayer and reflection has created a softer and more open heart. I can only see those in greater power as children, imagining their childhood and what they may have experienced internally, within their environments, to create who they are today. It is my own perspective, but it has been helpful in creating a loving kindness towards the greater community and compassion towards their own (my perceived) lack of self awareness and insecurity. I also have engaged in this time what part of me I don’t want to own as mentioned before. There’s a joke, with those few I have shared, about my “list.” However, this lent I chose something different and challenging. For the past few years I’ve given up sugar, and though this is extremely difficult, it’s been more for dieting and selfish reasons. I’ve been feeling stuck, empty and down, so this lent I wanted to offer myself something out of the ordinary routine. Even though I pray with others, I’ve not engaged in my own time of focused prayer in years (except the advent season before my surgery). It’s been a beautiful and challenging experience.
During these weeks, I have also gained clarity that I can’t make this farming dream into a sustainable income (at this time, if ever) and I’m sitting with what to do if I choose to change career paths. I know that I am burned out. I have said this and retracted it multiple times within even this circle. Doing hospital chaplaincy, at a level 1 trauma center, for almost 20 years has taken its toll on my psyche, my spirit, and my body. I found incredible resiliency through these years, especially through COVID, and I’m ready and in need of a change. I’m not one to desire a slower pace. However, experiencing the natural seasons, as I have been even more engaged, it is time to slow down. I am grateful as I have come to grieve and accept this reality. I now stand in a place of what now? What next? To this I am seeking clarity.
The one thing no one argued about with me these last few weeks, was sitting down pulling up the weeds in my garden bed from the end of last year’s mulch. What enraged me was how many there were. I honestly thought in the winter things stopped growing, including weeds. Naive, I know. We’ve had some pretty cold days up until the past few weeks, with some dips in temperatures. I’ve seen the weeds outside for several months in denial. My Lenten fasting journey this week coming (Hallow App- highly recommend) is fasting from procrastination. After listening Friday morning, I got out at 8am and stopped procrastinating. I pulled up half of the back garden by my house first. I needed to plant my lily bulbs (from Eden Brothers) and they needed to be removed. I know weeding is a FOREVER task in the spring and summer, much like fighting wasps and hornets. The afternoon was spent much more fun with my dear friend planting corn, cucumbers and going to a nursery with my mom. Saturday, I got up early again and worked to clear the rest. My husband helped, which was a wonderful surprise. There are still pockets of weeds but those will be pulled in the coming days. Weeds were a bane to me in my garden, but now I’m learning to live with them in minimal capacity. Having a pollinator garden, I’m learning what I can and can’t use to keep them at bay.
Finally, with my heart more open and holding the feeling of helplessness, I’ve become more distressed over the fire burning Table Rock and other areas in the mountains. My heart breaks for all the wildlife and all the natural things affected. It’s been so dry and the aftermath of Hurricane Helene has left so much timber in western North Carolina. I, along with so many, have been hoping for rain that may finally come this week. The mountains are a haven to me. Table Rock, and the surrounding areas, are where I go when I need renewal. Lament is not an easy place to spend, but I have found it to be a place of learning, healing and hope. This Lent, I am grateful for the openness I have acquired thus far that has softened my rage and the ability to receive and be grateful for help and time well spent in the slow lane. I bought a flower for my garden as an “ebenezer” to this season and its meaning.
The Journey Home 