My cage was officially rattled this week, to the point in which I veered away from my keyboard and sharing my thoughts with the world. I’ve written about life being messy for years on end, sharing specifics and making generalizations about the human existence and emotions that churn within us all. When I first began writing, I promised myself above all I would be honest with what I put forth, if I was going to share then what I shared would be heart felt and not contrived in order to get more likes and or shares. My life has become one that I have always dreamed of living, so much so that I had tricked myself into believing and feeling rest assured that my baggage had officially been unpacked and checked at the door of a local good will store. Since I met Kyle, I can honestly say that I believed this to be true, I had conquered my childhood and young adult dramas and finally let them go.
A series of small events, misfires and trivial life moments, led up to my finally discovering three white hairs atop my head at age forty two on my way to the a long overdue dentist appointment. At the moment I’ve always felt most vulnerable, I laid back against the dental chair with my mouth wide open, as the tears began to flow. My childhood had found a way to rear its ugly head in my fairy tale like life I now live at our farm in Maine. Embarrassed I wiped away the tears that had formed in the corner of my eyes, tried to dismiss where they were coming from and unsuccessfully pushed them aside, playing my current life images in a steady stream across the backs of my eye lids. To no avail, the tears quickened and my face flushed as my dentist entered the hygienist’s room, and asked me how I’ve been. A woman I’ve come to know and adore since I was in high school, had opened the safety valve to the vivid memories and emotions I’ve always referred to as my childhood stuff.
This week I walked to the edge of the cliff, paused and peered over as my feet were securely fastened to the earth beneath me, and for the first time in my life, reflected on what had brought me there instead of waiting for something or someone to talk me down. I shared with two people that I had hit a wall, Kyle and my partner in crime at work. I emptied out the details, what had lead up to the frantic moment and every emotion it contained, held for me to feel, own, and reexamine as whether or not I still wanted to call my own. Since coming clean, a series of serendipitous moments have transpired and led me to place I want to call my own, a place I choose to be, not one in which feels as though it was forced upon me to endure and muddle through.
I left work today just as the snow flurries had ended and headed home to muck out a much needed stall for Comet and Jingle. Kyle had been home earlier for an appointment and left me a note and a cup of Aroma Joe’s coffee on the island. I picked up the piece of notebook paper and felt his words fill my cup inside. I smiled and put it down. I placed the cup of coffee in the microwave and hit one minute. The tempest had subsided and my emotions seemed to be held at bay, normal quickly approached and a gentle calm had settled within my mind and heart. I grabbed my coffee and headed out to the barn. I opened the stall, holy shit, the goats had avoided being outside during the frigid temperatures of the previous week and I had my work cut out for me. I pulled the blue Jackson wheel barrow around to the back of the barn and grabbed the double shovel. Ruby and the goats jumped at my side, happy to have me in the barn. I felt grounded as I mucked the stall and carried loads of shit out to our compost pile in the pasture. Life is messy, its chaotic fast paced demands that tug us while we all come to grips with what we learned and experienced as children, is what each of us must face daily.
We all have our own stuff, our own shit if you will. It’s in the way we muck out our stalls that determines how we make our way through life and how messy it will truly get for each of us.
To read more about A New Family, click here!