I came to the woods not to retreat to fear - of ticks, of ginormous June bugs - but to open my eyes.
To see what is new.
To see nature manifest.
To explore different angles.
In the trees.
In my life.
With my family.
With my courage.
16 ticks so far today. I'm surprised I'm still here.
Staying allowed me to hear a raccoon family traipsing through the woods. Fireflies lighting up. A quiet night in front of the firepit. Drinking whiskey. Looking above for stars. No trains. No road traffic. Just the frogs and toads competing in song.
The trees have burst with green leaves. The woods are suddenly dense and alive. Teeming with critters and bugs. Abundance is everywhere, in every inch if this place. All available to me if I am open to comfort.
A Volkswagen sized June bug just hit my knee. I'm heading in.
Later in the night the smell of rain soothes and lulls me into much needed sleep.
I've read that some people in Chinese culture believe that courage is stored in the gallbladder. I have lost my store of courage. One day there was excruciating pain, the next morning I was in surgery.
I have had the most bizarre experience of my life. I'm physically better but I'm still dealing with a fair amount of emotional shock, the shock of having something so suddenly yanked from my body. Twice now in the last five years I have gotten to this hospital and have had something of mine taken out of my body. First it was my child, this time it was my gallbladder.
I'm not sure where life is taking me now. This week has been about recovery and tiny little attempts to get back my life. Today I drove the Jeep. Tomorrow I may not leave the house.
Throughout the experience I tried to take moments to make some sense of it. But between pain meds and an appalling impersonal hospital experience, there is almost no place to begin.
Just last week I was talking to a friend about the need to rest. Why is it that mothers only rest when they are ill? This was not the mother's day gift I had in mind.
I missed the biggest meeting of my co-op career. I cancelled our well-deserved vacation to the north shore of Minnesota.
Nonetheless I was well hydrated.
Last week I was on top of the world, soaring through a number of dreams come through. There were things manifesting in my life that I had asked for years ago and I was seeing many of them come alive: marvelous growth of a friendship, career paths suddenly opening up in front of me, a terrific cooking class, intense love with my husband, spring. This week is something else entirely.
This morning I woke from a really nice dream with a smile on my face. In the dream I was riding my bike. I felt the wind in my hair and I realized that I live a charmed life.Then it hit me. Magic needs power and that power took a toll on my body. I completely depleted my stores of courage and magic.
If I had to do it again, I wouldn't change a thing.
Well...I'll do everything but gallbladder surgery I suppose.
We decided to come back from the 4-Acre Wood early because I heard there was a storm coming through, possible a severe storm. I didn't expect the marble and golf-ball sized hail that started to come down just after we made the bloody marys.
We ended the day with a rainbow and sunshine and a low county boil. All of which were most satisfying.