The random things you find mixed in at the local family grocer. And no, it wasn’t the only tin for sale. And yes, I bought it….too random to pass up. 😉
Have you seen anything funny at your store lately that made you say “oh wow” or pause for a second? It’s the beginning of a new week, let’s see if we can start it with some funnies and a few laughters.
Have a great week everyone. ♥️
My two nieces know me so well and brought me an oversized postcard as a gift (see image above). It brought a huge smile to my face, after hearing their explanation, thinking that it was perfect for me. Mind you that Emily is 9 and Leni 12 years of age. I think they know me better then most adults ♥️. I never really talked about any of it, not my boho roots, or my dream of living in a converted school bus some day, but something must be obvious. I’m a dead give away.
It was kind of fun to see myself through their perspective and their vision. The minds of our younger generations are so much further ahead, way further then we ever were, it’s mind boggling. So what was it, where did they get this perception of Auntie from. Perhaps I will find out tonight spending some quality time with these lovelies. They sure hold a piece of my heart and are special, mist important, little people to me.
“You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.”
~Henry David Thoreau
The clouds looked beautiful yesterday and my love for “Puffy’s” remains. I was with Mom as I took this picture. It didn’t take but a minute as I felt myself drifting, dreaming of past times visiting the Vortex, lying on my back on nothing but my hiking towel, while starring into the sky, talking to the clouds. Watching their ever-changing shapes glide across the horizon, taking on new silhouette’s in the changing atmosphere. Flexible they stretched across the horizon, little shapeshifters, adapting to whatever came their way. Gaining in size or getting smaller, or breaking off into individual Puffy’s all together. Have you ever dreamed with and talked to the clouds? Here is your reminder if you have and your dare to get out there if you haven’t. Give yourself the gift of 30 minutes to an hour and let the stress melt away. Tell it to the clouds, they are sure to keep your dreams floating.
I had a “date” with my girlfriend yesterday. Sadly, I was a little skeptical and worried. In all actuality, I wasn’t really looking forward to it, and I know the feeling was mutual as we both shared concerns. I ended up picking one of the two dates available that allowed less time together. Shame on me, but let me explain. This is not meant to point any finger, but bring attention to how easily life takes us onto different paths.
We’ve seen each other only a few times since I got to Germany, although we live close to each other. Being here for an extended lengths of time, you would think we would manage to spend a lot of time together, but it was as if we lived on different planets. We had nothing in common anymore, and there was little to agree on these days. It felt weird, considering we had been lifelong friends, but also lifelong friends that lived the majority of life apart from each other. How good did we really know each other during the occasional two week visit, every other year or so, sometimes much longer. And here too it became obvious, how surface interaction allowed us to know each other, while we truly didn’t know anything about each other anymore. Life had moved on, and life took us into different directions it seemed. There simply was too little, and not enough quality interaction.
Angie (my girlfriend) is a smart, very…very busy, successful woman, aggressive and rational. Everything is about common sense, with simple solutions and answers, but it wasn’t really the right time for me, and I was in need of other qualities, such as compassion and empathy. Feelings and emotions ruled the scene for me, something Angie couldn’t follow. Not because she was incapable of having feelings like this, but because she was an outsider looking in, unable to put herself into my shoes. In her eyes my situation required logical answers and she couldn’t follow what my hang up was. Fact was, that I wasn’t ready for it. There was so much to mend in my relationship with Mom, so much in need of fixing, so many opportunities that reached beyond the logical realm. She often drilled me with questions I had no answer to, and in response my frustration grew as I frantically tried to answer, not wanting to feel like an idiot. It became very stressful, and meeting would leave me exhausted and vulnerable. Of course was I searching for the same answers as well, but always ended up in the same vicious cycle. I knew that the path wasn’t ready to reveal itself, the time wasn’t right, but try to explain that to a fact driven, proof oriented person. It was always the same struggle, and despite of knowing that she meant well and was trying to help, there was a lack of understanding. I know she got frustrated with me, unable to grasp my indecisiveness or what I was considering, the decisions were as plain as day for her. It resulted in long breaks away from each other, and I think we were both ok with it. Angie continued to live her busy life running from deadline to deadline on five hours of sleep per night, everything was normal as it should be, like I wasn’t in Germany. For me, I was relieved not to be lectured or squeezed in amongst other activities and other friends that were basically strangers to me. It felt awkward and we know already how much I like to engage in small talk. It seemed like such a waste of time to me. Finally, I told her that I would love to have one on one time with her, her undivided attention and to call me when she could manage. It was the best thing I could do and honesty always wins, even if it’s hard or takes courage to pursue.
So yesterday was the day, and Angie wanted me to decide on what we would do. A bit of a challenge for various reasons, but I managed to come up with an idea close to Mom where she would pick me up from. I had spent much time in the public this year and close by was a hedge labyrinth, a miniature golf with a Biergarten, and a giant bench I never got to sit on, but always wanted to. I took a chance and suggested a date with Nature, a place to become still. We walked the little distance to the bench and took our seat. It was already getting towards the end of the day, and shortly later we watched the sunset through two giant picture frames in front of the bench, framing the last light. We both loved it and felt at peace. It was relaxing enough that I started talking to Angie without feeling forced or pressured. To my surprise I blurted out what seemed like an idea about the future, of what was to come next. We talked for awhile, and Angie followed up by saying “Well, that sounds like something, like the start of plan, much better and it seems like you know what needs to be done next”. Indeed it felt like it, and a huge wave of relief rushed over me. Not that miraculously all my problems would be solved overnight, but because the vision had returned. I no longer felt alone and helpless in the matter, having to wait and bide my time. Enough developments had contributed, and the fog was finally lifting. The road once more became visible and I greeted it like and old friend. I saw all the obstacles still ahead of me, and yet I felt so much lighter. A huge weight had been lifted from me, at least for the time being in case the feeling wasn’t to last. There was plenty left to do, and nothing would be smooth, but the path appeared, clear as day and for the first time in a long while. Timing was once more working with me, giving me opportunities meant for me to grab.
We never played miniature golf that night, but sat in the Biergarten enjoying a drink for awhile longer. The conversation had shifted and this time it was Angie’s turn to confide and share some of her struggles. I no longer felt lectured, like the helpless, little, lost girl, and Angie gave me back the chance to share my perspective and offer advice. She allowed me to help her and a partnership was restored. It was a simple evening, yet it had a big impact, and it couldn’t have turned out any better. I truly look forward to our next time when we can make each other the priority again, away from outside distractions. Further, Angie is connected to someone who might be able to help with the RA. Nothing will happen immediately, but how wonderful is that? Just the opportunity alone is nothing short of another miracle.
Have you ever noticed that things always have a way to work out? They always do and all we have to do is believe and stay positive.
Thank WordPress, can you believe it’s been 3 years since I start blogging. I registered 3 years ago and then left it all sit for another year until I seriously started to but out regular content. It’s been such a neat ride since then and I am so happy about the friendships that were made here, visiting your blog, reading your story and learning what you wanted to convey.
I have learned that we all have a story to tell, a reason why we are here, and why we choose to blog and get our word out. It has been wonderful to share my experiences and knowledge, to learn from others and to be heard, to find validation in shared paths through life, to be a bigger or littler sister, and someone to lean on at times. To find shoulders to rest against when ones light is dim, to find new strengths and understanding.
Today on this blogversary of mine, I give thanks for all of you and for the story you share with me. Funny or painful, bits and pieces of our lives, never to be taken for granted, but valued and appreciated. Thank you for being a part of my journey and for everything you do. Hugs
“The mind once enlightened cannot again become dark”
~ Thomas Paine
Please see The Vortex Part 1 & 2 to get up to speed on where this post picks up on.
After discovering the T.V. in my picture from one of my favorite stomping grounds, it all made sense. I knew that my feelings were credited to having found my own little energy field. I was picking up on something just like I did at Mount Shasta, where I had felt it for the very first time. I think back to how it all started, and the only way I can describe it as getting addicted, hooked on a feeling. I wanted to feel like this all the time, and priorities were set to go visit “The Vortex” as often as possible. To tune into the feeling, perhaps discover other energy fields. It was during that time that I became aware of “grounding” and connecting myself with the earth. I could literally feel the healing enter my body, while worries drained from me.
My crazy retail life was beyond stressful and I was chasing someone else’s dream. I was a general manager for a prestigious, well known beauty store and couldn’t have carried more responsibility back. For what? To prove that I could do it, to be a foreigner successful in another country, to be validated, to not having to turn every penny? It came with a hefty price tag, one I wouldn’t be willing to pay again. Peace at home had long vanished into a failed marriage, merely living as roommates, stuck in shared responsibilities and obligations. Luckily I was never alone, and I never had to deal with it all on my own. I would have managed and I’m not afraid of being alone, but this was so much better and I had the most amazing support system, my saving grace.
Coming to Germany, there is no doubt that I missed my support system and “The Vortex”. I no longer worked physically, but the mental aspects would prove equally as challenging, if not more. There was little to feel good about in the beginning, and the house was neglected, including a garden overgrown with years full of weeds. In Mom’s defense I like to add that none of this was done purposely, it merely happened because she physically couldn’t do it anymore. If you have read prior posts, you know about Moms attachment to the house. I imagine it was very tough for her to watch it go down hill. Mom had always maintained high standards when it came to cleanliness, and we always joked about that you could easily eat off of the floor and be fine. Those times had passed, and I’m sure she struggled with it.
So here I was, with no Vortex, no place to really go to recharge. Energy was used up daily, but not replenished, I knew eventually I would run on empty. There is a place in Mittenwald that definitely has a Vortex, but it’s also several hours worth a train ride away from here. I was lucky to have gone twice, and I felt the energy of my mountains both times. Luckily there is also Rothenburg which is much closer and has a Vortex as well. It differs from my mountain Vortex, but nevertheless it is a place I feel my soul belongs. Here again, I feel a connection to the medieval era, the music, the simple life in regards to having less. Perhaps another prior life.
Eventually the “Savannah” which I called the weed overgrown backyard was transformed and became what I call the Fairy Garden today. The cobwebs were pushed back to give way to a colorful little space with a magical mushroom forest, a place for fairies, and new life contained within my outdoor shrine. The walkway in the middle of it which feels like the main aorta, the heart of the space became visible once again to breath new life into the area. At one point a hammock was strung from the fence pole to the barn, which allowed for carefree hanging out amongst the flowers. Bees which are endangered and fewer in Germany came to visit. The natural water source was replenished daily and showed signs of usage over night. Tiny hummingbirds and butterflies moved in shortly after, intoxicated from the sweet flower nectar the would find from sown, late blooming flowers. A little Vortex was created and still, I love to sit and oversee the garden in complete silence. To watch the daylight cease, casting it’s last glow and making way to a starry night. It’s peaceful and serene, my way of meditating, welcoming new blooms, and letting it all fall to the wayside for a few moments. To be still and notice what has changed on a daily basis. Although the clearing most likely made Betsy (hedgehog) flee and relocate to thicker underbrush once more. I haven’t seen her around lately and it’s been quiet.
The little Fairy Garden Vortex is bittersweet. It’s a place to enjoy and just be for awhile, but also a place to get caught up in nostalgia and to reminisce about times that have come and gone. It’s a place to notice the ever changing winds of time and the chill they can carry when your heart feels alone. A chill that should be shared to lessen it’s frostbites on your heart.
PS. And I know that I’m truly never really alone and thank you all for sharing this journey with me. Xoxoxo 💙🦋
What ended in near panic last week, all worked itself out to a beautiful start of a new week. I’m still surprised I could get the repair of the blind done in record speed, and at minimal cost. I got lucky and I’m most grateful an appointment could be made this quickly. It is back in working order and my hiking stick is returned to where it belongs vs. being wedged under the door lock. I feel safer at night and another measure of security has been added.
I realize that it was mostly me who caused my own hell yesterday. I reacted to years of fear, angst to disappoint Mom, fused with a desire to please her, as well as a yearning for acceptance. My reaction showed that my no exception policy I try to keep when it very es to Mom is not fully in place yet, nor may it ever be. I’m not sure if I can give it up completely. It will be as if all hope has vanished if I do, and there will always be a part that wants that mother – daughter relationship to be closer. I’m contempt to know that not all days are equal. There will be moments of vulnerability, and I’m allowing myself to be human, to make mistakes, to not be perfect. Life, and these very challenges are not perfect, and in return they don’t deserve perfect actions. What I manage one day, might be my downfall the next. I’m ok that the results will vary, knowing that I will always do my best. And you know what? It’s good enough any day….and most of all I’m good enough.
What started out as a good day, actually already turned south the day before. At the grocery store, I saw a cute tiny pillow, picturing two kitties I thought could bring joy to Mom. I bought it, along with a few cans of cat food for Bember. Yes we have approached that level, and although I still don’t feed her regularly so she is not fully dependent on me when I leave, she does come for cuddles and food. Mostly, I think she enjoys the company, and so do I, it’s a win win situation.
All is still good and things are ok, besides the RA pain. I am on steroid meds now, emergency pills prescribed from my doctor last year, that I luckily never needed. Day two, and not much has changed, I’m still hurting a lot and a few more doses are required at minimum.
I finally get home after being drilled by the neighbor lady, who has intercepted me and wants to know Mom’s condition. The entire town will know within a day or two, and I know no matter how carefully I choose my words, there us also the element of making things up to make the story more interesting. I think it happens everywhere, but especially in a small village like this. That’s just one of the perks I guess. Thirty minutes later, I finally break free, so I can tend to my chores and eat afterwards. I multitask, putting the groceries away in record speed as one of the cat food cans escapes me in the giant four level stairwell. I hear it rolling, unable to catch it, followed by the loud impact on the flight downstairs. I brace myself. More rolling, and a further impact all the way down to the cellar. Shit…I’m afraid what is waiting on me. I slowly approach, and notice a few splatters on the first marble step (Mom’s marble pride) and a little chip from the impact of where the can landed. I’m nearly panicking, but I can’t lose it just yet. God knows what happened, and what I’d find on the next flight. Although the distance is shorter, and I’m not worried for more damage to the stairs, (thank God) I don’t like to go down the old stone cellar where huge spiders live. My mind is getting the better of me, and I can literally hear the enjoyment with visions of my demise. Pictures flash in front of my eyes of the can exploded and splattered all over. I do not want to spend extra time in the place of horror that I usually avoid at most cost. Luckily there are only a few chunks and cleanup is quick. I feel a few webs and I’m grossed out, finally I make my way back to the apartment, while still in disbelief and telling myself to get a grip.
But not all has ended just yet and later in bed, I’m losing sleep over the little chip in the stairs, wondering if I can fill it with silicone, some clear hardener or something to make it go away. The next morning as I leave to go visit Mom, I look, but can’t find the chip. I’m sure it’s there and hasn’t vanished, but it’s not that obvious, so why am I so worried about? Perhaps the fact that it is there, that I damaged it, that her thoughts of me are confirmed, and that I disappointed her once more. I know that these thoughts are mainly produced by my own ego, who relentlessly is continuing the effort to torture myself. I already scratched her frying pan, something that has never happened to me at home. Unreal, and I’m almost terrified of touching things, of breaking things, things that are hers and that she has cared for, for many years. It took me to come here to get the job done. I know you might think “Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s only material things”. I know, it’s just out of the ordinary and I’m learning that the more careful I am, the better the chances of it actually breaking.
I bring the kitty pillow and Mom is delighted. She is in love with it and shows it to every nurse that comes in. I am the hero and heaven forbid I tell her about the stairs and what happened the night before. About that small chip I can’t even find anymore. She’s been taking care of these stairs for 44 years and I manage to chip them within 6 month. Overall it’s a good day until Mom wants me to make the pillow back home to add to the rest of the museum. She doesn’t want it to get dirty or touched by everyone, she wants to preserve it forever, and it’s meant to sit on the couch, that is never used to collect dust. I want it to bring her joy “now” and not from her imagination of picturing it sitting at home while she is not there. I want her to touch it, to use, that’s why I bought it. She wants to pay me to get another, to add to that collection on the couch as well. She is not planning on staying at the nursing home, and she is gonna tell me in good faith that I better get her out of there, she tells me. Things go south quickly, as silence falls to prevent further insults. I swallow a few times and start to distract her. I talk normally to her as if nothing happened, and I change the subject, I tickle her, and steal the hugs and kisses she is not willing to give me. I bring the light once more, and although we didn’t leave on the happiest of terms, we are not angry at each other. A little heaviness still lingers and can be felt, but it’s nothing like it was in prior times. Take good care of my house, you never know with you she adds, as I walk towards the door. I don’t respond much and leave in silence. I feel reprimanded and like a child. Something she does when she is still wounded.
Back at home Bember is patiently waiting to be fed. I try once more to balance the cat food, my phone, eye glasses and ice cream I’m planning to enjoy. Apparently I haven’t learned my lesson from the night before, and already forgot the can incident where disaster was striking from having your hands full, trying to multitask. I’m trying to open the blind, and pull the robe with one hand. I know I need a little extra strengths doing it with only one arm, as it nearly jumps out of the wall and leaves the blind stuck in the up, open position. I didn’t pull that hard, but I know I pulled a little quicker which has now left too much slack in the cord, and the blind stuck. I try to pull it down from the outside, no response, nothing. It won’t budge. Great….I’m on a roll…literally. I’m not happy about not being able to arm the castle (Mom’s House) a 100%. and I feel vulnerable being alone. I wedge my hiking stick under the door lock, what else is a girl to do. First thing tomorrow, some calls will be made, and hopefully get answered quickly for speedy repairs.
PS. The blind was broken already, but still functional. It won’t matter, and in Mom’s eyes it was me who broke it in the end. Maybe I just forget to mention that as well!
Here is a little love from the fairy garden for you. Have a beautiful Sunday everyone and say it with flowers today.
