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April 17, 2022

Leaving Home, Finding Peace

Life sometimes twists an arm behind your back forcing one to cry “Uncle” or walk into what feels like dangerous shadow.  This morning is one of those times.  As I sit on my front porch attempting the meditation I’ve been told will help “soothe me,” a rushing wave of thoughts and anxious fears flood my tired, scrambled egg mind.  They weave their way through the breathe I’m trying desperately to “be aware of” entering through my nostrils and leaving again more quickly than it ought. They bully their way to the front of the line that defines my forehead and kick themselves into my jaw just as I am being instructed by a woman’s voice on my iPhone App to “release tension” in those places. The tension remained.  The wave flowed across me like ants invading an abandoned picnic, marching with determined direction to devour anything of significance with organized force.  The wave, in grand finale found its way to my eyes where it reduced its force to salty tears as a grand escape, only to come again another day.  My cheeks felt tight from the salt, washed and painted with jagged lines.

I heard the wings of a very large bird flying by as I wiped my face and brought my mind back to present.  I wondered if it was an eagle or possibly a heron.  Wishing I could leap gracefully and fly away like Gandalf on the wings of his giant eagle.  Instead, I stood to my feet, wiped my face with the back of my hand, wrapped my arm tightly around one of the pillars that stood at attention on my porch and breathed in deeply.

You see, yesterday something big happened in my world, enormous actually. A final decision was made to sell my home of many years. This place, this farm that I see from the very spot where I am writing today, was my wonder world as a child.  This porch facing a corn field, green with knee high stalks, is built in the center of what used to be my grandfather’s tobacco field.  And in the furthest corner I can still see my grandmother in a green and white checkered house dress, pulling tart fruit from the tree while her gentle southern voice warning us of the danger of the snakes between the large prickly leaves.  I will carry this  history in my veins wherever this next chapter leads. 

Life is a strange adventure for certain.  Fear often thrusts it’s head through the curtain as if playing a prank to scare the pants off me. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I am.  Often the joke slipping from my lips has been that I am “in training” for The Amazing Race reality show.  It’s been a way to get through a difficult obstacle or fork in the road. A sort of self-coaching to stay determined when things get hard.  The epiphany of this past year for me has been that I actually am already in and have been training all along and THIS is my Amazing Race.

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