A Raw Gift

Beauty is present in my life. I feel so connected to the trees growing around me, to the waves that lap the shore and to the buzzards soaring above; to the crows saying hello with their ominous caw that feels ancient and raw. It feels good to experience such connectedness and serenity. Simple things like the light on the bushes, a friend riding by on their bicycle, helping a visitor at the Chamber, or the taste of homemade plum cake on my tongue, bring me to a place of feeling grounded and connected. Mostly I feel at peace. I am able to work hard, and rest. The things that should come naturally in life are here at my doorstep. All I need to do is ask and I am there.

Life was not always this easy. I spent years in anger, tortured by anxiety, depression, and self-loathing. I was familiar with feeling alone, rejected, abandoned and forgotten. I honestly believed I was the only one suffering because I felt I was alone in a dark pit of despair. There were good moments, but I was all too familiar with the darkness that I had accepted as my reality, the only reality that I could return to that was constant. I suffered from delusions, and I had all but forgotten completely that I was special, loved, and gifted. I would try and surface to rediscover and own my old identity, but the stigma and oppression of being severely mentally ill had all but robbed me of these memories. Every day was a battle.

One day my knees and legs gave way as I was visiting with some friends who were remodeling a studio. I literally slid down the wall and sat down. I experienced not being able to use them. I knew this was not purely physical. Somehow in my legs and my tired knees were filled with what felt like tons of weighted grief and despair; it had taken over. I was holding this inside of me on a physical plane. I broke down in tears among 'friends' that I had just met. I managed to leave at some point and left a beautiful abstract oil painting on their doorstep later that week, thanking them. There were many, friends and strangers over the years, who witnessed my grief; grief for a life that had been promised that I could not find; grief for the happy, gifted young girl, or dreamy eyed teenager that I could not feel anymore. What had happened to me? I did not even know anymore.

I began writing and documenting my thoughts, emotions and experiences in poetry, prose or memoirs. I painted with a drive I have never felt, desperate to express and make sense of my pain. Through much diligence I worked through enough to maintain myself. Eventually life circumstance landed me on Lopez Island seven years ago and in these seven years much of the dark blood that occupied my body, has seeped from me as the earth and the Lord has absorbed and lifted my burden.

So every day that I feel grace I am eternally grateful. Simply living and being able to observe and experience life without grief, pain and rage completely taking over my cells and the veil that covered my eyes, is a gift. I am guided to a place of contentment because of these experiences. I am actually grateful for my path. It has made me who I am, and I am proud. I am proud to just be, exist, and take in the day just as it is in all of its blessing.