Loosened from the mud, I find myself floating in a world of possibility.

So can you.



When I was little my mother used to tell me to stay out of the rain because bugs would fall into my hair. I remember a story that my best friend told me about how her mother screamed when a spider crawled up her leg. We lived in a small town on the edge of the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania. Not rural, but not urban either. We had a fantastic state park nearby and I did a camping outdoor program there one summer. I don't remember ever being bothered or scared of bugs while camping.

That's not to say that I am not phobic about bugs and that phobia (no doubt) comes from the adult female influences in my early life. I know that bugs here are nothing compared to the monstrous spiders I encountered while living a few years in the Himalaya Mountains. Yet I still am scared. That fear doesn't usually keep me from enjoying our woodland retreat. I pushed for this environment more so than my husband, a born and bred city guy. Expect when it comes to wood ticks and wasps.

So I face quite a dilemma when we take the Lotus Bud out into the woods. I have to quiet my fear and calm my usual reaction. I have to not freak out. And I'm getting better, I really am. 

Because she picks up on the slightest change in my voice and the most minimal tension in my body when I encounter a wood tick. Thank goodness she was napping when I hit a nest of wasps last summer with my broom which resulted in numerous stings.

She freaks out a little and I talk her down. She asks why there are bugs and I try to explain about how bugs live on this earth, that we coexist, that the flowers and trees need them to thrive. She's not entirely convinced. But I'm not certain that I need to convince her right now. I just need to keep her calm. And that I can do.