Tag Archive: tree


I’ve had to change course a few times in the last few years. First, with cancer, and recently with Erick’s new position with Cardinal. I started a farm-project for education purposes, but soon I will be living in a hugely biodiverse region with a large peramculture network neatly and conveniently threaded already into the culture. I’ll also be near two- and four-year universities where I might pursue a degree in Horticulture. In the meantime, the experiences are translating into interesting chapters not only for my book, but also in writing the pages of a fulfilling life.

This weekend some friends I hadn’t seen in a while and some friends I’ve made more recently got together. I listened as they talked about stories that we had made together or I had shared and it helped me realize, that even in those times when I was being an absolute f*ck-*p, I was experiencing a part of life I now know with certainty has enormous value. I was on an extended adventure and what I lacked in collegiate education, I made up for in life experience. And now I’m able to appreciate both.

We did some exploring this week at the Old State Hospital and it revived in some of us, that feeling of adventure; in pressing boundaries just a little; in hoping for something magical awaited just around the next corner, behind the next door or within each of us. And we discovered the adventure, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant relative to the rest of our lives, was made special because we were in it together; we were supporting each other and the collective adventurous experience. In essence, we let our inner-children come out to play.

In pursuing a career for myself, I’ve nourished my strengths and realized some of the weaknesses that have held me back. My current goals include returning to schools, feeling good about Imperfectly Yours, finding a way to continue Healing Tree, and discovering a tree under which I can contemplate these and other goals/thoughts in the future. Have you ever noticed the beautiful form a tree holds; arms stretched upward in constant praise of the energy off which it feeds? The tree reminds me to celebrate each day, to stand in peace, with integrity. It also reminds me to move with the wind, but to remain rooted to those principles I hold in higher regard. In doing these things, my life has become a fulfilling experience.

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The African Violets I bought not long after my grandmother passed away (she loved violets), are blooming.   There’s a lantern of a bloom curled forward on a dainty stem and another facing opposite just emerging.  They have a pink-violet hue and stand out vividly against the stark blue wall beyond.

Violets are not blue. 

I tried recently to keep a journal.  Obviously I use this blog to chronicle milestones in my life, but I thought I might pour more into a personal journal that only I might read.  In that, I felt ridiculous.  It’s not like me to write something I don’t want others to read.  Occasionally, I write down a thought only to destroy it, but mostly, I love to integrate these thoughts into the larger collective pool of the blogosphere and bare something of myself to an unseen world of eyes looking in.

I saw someone this week I hadn’t seen in a month and a friend I haven’t seen in nearly two years.  It brought forward some intense feelings.  I realized I’ve grown up in the last year.  I’ve opened my self up to loving people in a way I’ve never loved before.  It erases the fear I’ve harbored since childhood; fear of abandonment, fear of touch, fear of losing.  And in the next year, I imagine I’ll be engaging even more in the kind of relationships  and adventures that help me express the joy I feel in living.

This year, I will…

  • move to North Carolina
  • stand in awe before a Redwood tree
  • let my heartbeat echo off the Grand Canyon
  • swim in a mountain lake and walk beside the ocean

This year I will soar to new heights.

I’ve changed around the bookcases so that some books are vertical butting up to those laid horizontal on the shelf. This is supposed to add to the overall appearance and appeal of our house. How it sits on the market is about to be determined now that we have officially put it up for sale. We decided to list with a realtor, so you may learn more about this wonderful home on the Traverse Area Association of Realtors (TAAR) website. 

[We lowered the price and hope to sell quickly, so I need positive thinking sent our way.] In the meantime, we’re gearing up for a move South. Having lived in Tennessee only breifly, I can say I love the people we met. I adore northern living, but there really is something wonderful about southern hospitality. Land is more costly where we will be headed shortly, but there are colleges in the mountains that have permaculture programs and the smaller lots equate to greater immediate opportunities as I will be able to plant more into smaller spaces. Sounds backwards, but makes good fiscal sense.

The realtor will be here shortly to take photos of the house for the virtual tour. I’m really nervous about it, but I’m not sure why. I just want everything to look just right, but we have so little furniture in the house right now that it feels empty. I’m going out on Friday to get a HUGE festive tree to fill up some of the living room, but the virtual tour can’t wait for a tree.

In other news, the girls and I are reading Anne of Green Gables and I must say it is an extremely well-written book full of new vocabulary for everyone to enjoy. And though Anne’s monologues are sometimes long-winded, there are always subtle and thoughtful hints of a moral to rival that of her own moral-centered care-taker. I recommend it.

Kate and I met up yesterday briefly for cocoa/coffee in ER. It was good to see her, although I had all three girls with me, which made for a quick visit. I feel really lucky that I have friends like Kate who have a genuine opinion of things and can calm me down with her usual retort whenever I get a bit stressed, “It’ll be okay.” Somehow, even when neither one of us believe those words, the sheer utterance is enough to calm even the most frazzled nerve.

And so here I sit in a near-empty room with a very full heart looking out onto a snow-laiden landscape and feeling lucky for another morning, looking forward to another day and knowing our future is bright.

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