October

It is an experience that I share with so many. My twin boys were due in October, but born in August, one a preemie — now a tall and gentle soul of a man — the other born still.

It is a powerful force that, all of these Octobers later, can still bury me in leaves of depression so thick it takes weeks to find my way out.

It is beautiful that this month of October, 2016, so far, has been kind to my head — the leaves gentle, graceful, and allowing the view of the clear blue sky.

It is precious that today I read for the first time that October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. This declaration was made on October 15, 1988, seven years to the day after my due date. The exact month and year that hell visited my head for the first time, only to continue on through every October.

Except not this year. Not as of October 18th, 2016.

It is a stunning show of grace that I now know that, should depression still visit this month or any month again, I can do it. I can look it in the face, embrace it, and love it, be it. No more resistance to the wisdom of the body. This woman-animal is willing to trust life, and to allow her native voice to speak its truth. Bring it on. Or don't bring it on. I am fine, either way.

Butterfly Socks!

If you have been a reader of this blog for a little while, you have read about my dear Betty who recently passed. I have been known to call her Betty of the Butterflies (links to previous posts about Betty can be found below the photo).

Recently I bought a Fair Trade camisole, and in the package was a piece of paper that said Free Socks. A web address was given, but no further explanation. I went to the website, and there I saw that I could get a free pair of socks, "as long as supplies last". It would take weeks. I forgot about it. It took about a week, and today in my mailbox... BUTTERFLIES! And, look! They were knit in a WIND powered factory. Sweatshop free. Organic.

Thank you, Betty, for sending these from wherever you may be. I love you always.

Previous posts about Betty:

http://spontaneouslypresent.blogspot.com/2015/03/betty-of-butterflies.html
http://spontaneouslypresent.blogspot.com/2016/07/butterflies-and-angels.html
http://spontaneouslypresent.blogspot.com/2016/08/fly-free.html

Peach Trilogy Epilogue

Last night. The last of this year's peaches. 

We had enough peaches to last into September! 

Saying goodbye was a happy occasion.

I'm not going to think about it anymore.

Endless Possibility

You probably would live your life just fine not knowing this first part, but here goes...

I have had a long history of gut problems, and in order to try to live without gut pain, to have intestines that actually work like the intestines of most people, and in order to be comfortable being out in public (my belly LOVES to yell loudly while sitting in a quiet room — it craves that kind of attention), I have refined my diet over the years until I am one of the cleanest eaters I know. Some people say I have a very restricted diet. I say I can't figure out why I would want to eat the way most people in the U.S. eat.

Yesterday, my chiropractor asked if I eat meat, and I told her that I don't eat red meat.

That was a nice, declarative statement.

Yes, it's true that yesterday I didn't eat red meat. In fact, I haven't had any for many, many years. But that statement is so solid, it doesn't allow for change. It doesn't allow for possibility, for becoming.

But I, like the seasons and the clouds and this moment, am ever-changing. That is beautiful. That is Life. So, from now on, I want to remember to answer such questions (at least in my own head) with something more open.

Q: Do you eat meat?

A: Today I had some turkey bacon.

Q: Do you like the positions stated by the man who is running for president?

A: Hmmm.. until you brought him up, I hadn't been thinking of him. I don't think I'll think about him now, either, so I can't answer you on that.

Q: Do you have enough money for everything you want to do?

A: Yes, right this moment, I have all I need.

There may be some who could object to this level of immediate honesty. If a politician were to answer in such ways, they could be labeled a flip-flopper. But right now, I'm not a politician. I want to be free to be transparent in the moment. Oh, I hear my gut. It says Thank You.

Joy

Within the spaciousness of the sky, clouds appear and change colors, shapes, and sizes. Inevitably, they soon disappear. And so it is with the comings and goings of all thoughts, perceptions, and appearances. Everything appears and disappears within the spaciousness of the eternal. I find tear-provoking joy in that.

Better Than Welcoming

There is something better
than welcoming. God is that,
and so is this place.

Welcoming means open arms,
but that which can be open
can also close. This that I am
pointing to is a constant stillness
and gentle acceptance. It easily receives
our presence, yet it's fine without it.
Laid bare itself, with nothing to hide,
it sees through our many disguises,
into our perfect nakedness. There is
room here for all that we are, and
there is nothing that we aren't.

Bluebirds outside my window
invite me to play. They would sing and dance
with you, too, and even a politician.
We all belong here. And here.
In this world,
every moment offers
something better than welcoming.


Carol Barrow
August, 2016