The Ache to Experience More, or Less

Sunrise at Starry Meadows  ~ Photo by Linda Witmer

Something new is percolating. 

I'm beginning a Facebook page called Starry Meadows - the name of our farm here in Singer's Glen, Va. I probably will not be blogging as much for awhile as I launch this page and our unfolding endeavor at Starry Meadows. If you are one to 'like' pages on Facebook, check out the page:  https://www.facebook.com/rest.restore.walk.wonder/

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 Last guests here at Starry Meadows noticed the quiet. It was 4 in the afternoon with no traffic sounds, no cicadas. Oddly, there were no deer coming out to graze either. Having just shared deeply from our art and writing journals, we resonated with the deep, contented calm. Contentment and calm with a hint of disappointment. Other than birds and flowers, there were no wildlife sightings for the guests. Isn't there often an ache to experience something more: a doe stepping cautiously into the meadow, the whinny of a Barred Owl in the distance? Or something less: less chaos in the White House, less internal drama, less suffering in the world?

As our guests said goodbye and drove out our long lane, the neighbor’s family arrived and our affectionately named ‘no pond hollow’ echoed with happy sounds of playing children. Suddenly, the deer herds moved, bringing does with fawns out at dawn in our back hill’s big meadow, herds of young bucks in the neighboring quarry meadow their velvet antlers silhouetted in the sunrise, and mixed herds in the afternoon down at the creek meadows. When the deer moved, the tree frogs began singing their soothing night choruses. The rhythms of nature baffle and entice.

Last night as I prepared for sleep, anxiety crept around my edges. Like the sudden moving of the deer, my life feels stirred up. Our daughters are moving in 2 weeks, staying at Starry Meadows for a season. We’re currently renaming our studio/shop – the building where daughters will be living in while here. (This will be our future AirBnB, or retreat space, so we’re playing with appropriate names. How about Constellation House? Meadow Lark Lodge? Will our buildings be named after constellations, like Pegasus Place and Lyra Log Cabin? Naming is a sacred, joyful ritual!)  We prepare to welcome them to Virginia even as we are still transitioning ourselves. There is much to do before they come: cleaning our stuff out of the studio/shop, checking on their boarded horses, preparing for our son’s family vacationing here this week, anticipating seeing our newest grand baby again.  Then there is the North Korea threat, the unpredictable and vindictive US president, the state of our country and politics, climate change threatening this beloved earth, plus my body fighting a cold/sinus infection. Along with wanting wellness so not to infect my grand baby, I ache for smooth adjustments for my daughters, energy to enjoy my grandchildren, reassurance from our government and from God. Anxiety wants to morph into fear, like hesitant deer stepping from the security of the woods ready to bolt at the first tiny threat. I can’t control the rhythms of nature, what wildflowers or wildlife guests of Starry Meadows will see, or what experiences our daughters will encounter. Nor can I completely control my health.  

I want my grandchildren to hear the tree frogs. I want there to be children and tree frogs long into the future. I want to sleep deeply tonight. I don’t want the horses to get sick on my watch. I don’t want war or more chaos in the US. I notice all the ‘wants’ arising in me and switch my attention to the song of tree frogs. The sheets are soft below me, blanket warm above me, healing aromas of peppermint, lemon and lavender from my essential oil diffuser soothe my sinuses allowing deep, relaxed breathing. I sense my own aliveness. Outside the earth is alive, vibrant, rooted and grounded in all that is holy. Like a wild turkey hen enfolding a chick under her wing, I feel the pull of Spirit, of deep holding, of gentle Mystery. Nestled and warm, no problems exist.

As I drift into sleep, I am peace.

May you walk and sleep in aliveness and peace,

Sharon

Jesus rebuked the storm. He said, “Peace! Be still!”

Eckhart Tolle writes: “If you create no pain for yourself, then you create no more pain for others. You also no longer contaminate this beautiful Earth, your inner space, or the collective human psyche with the negativity of problem-making.”

Sunset on Big Hill Meadow at Starry Meadow - photo by Sharon 

"Soar"   The skies Starry Meadow -  Photo by Linda Witmer