Back from farm time in Europe, and holy shit. Transitions are always a bit messy, especially the more extreme the life experience. But I am home, and I am feeling very OK, and I keep having to remind myself, it’s OK to feel OK. I AM HERE NOW.
My spirit has taken me back here, whether I wanted to believe or not the entire journey back home where I had about four meltdowns between the time my boat carried me away from my friends on the island Monday evening until my head hit my own pillow on my own bed last night. But I create my own destiny and I am here now. Why else would this be my present? That is how our existence may work, our spirit carries our physical bodies around, and our minds try to make sense of it. I know I am guided of my own spirit so that is why I trust my presence, even if I still may be nostalgic for what I have just left behind. But my presence exists for a reason and I embrace it, it evolves so my life can be enhanced, I’m sure. It’s like each phase of life is the “one louder”, and our changing circumstances provide us with a new set of tools to keep journeying forward through the infinite.
As I said, it’s not like I’m not incredibly nostalgic, or that I didn’t cry a lot, but I have to let go, and go with the flow of life. Being home affords me so, so many things. I get to see this life with a new perspective, I get to have my own space and pace and things, which I know I can live without, but I can also approach with a new appreciation. I get to use my kitchen, and cook again, and make my own yogurt, and grow my own herbs and vegetables, and I can use my espresso machine and maybe teach myself Italian with those CDs I’ve been hauling around, and I can paint and make jewelry and play my records and go on new walks and bike rides, and play in my backyard and lay in my hammock. I can wake up whenever I want and put on a dress and shave my legs in the sink before my roommate wakes up, and smoke on the porch and write in my journal and listen to the birds chirping and the breeze blowing through the trees that are glistening. I embrace this place and myself in it, and all that is to come in this new season.
Friday is the first day of summer, just in time for my brain and body to recuperate and adjust to this new time zone.
Last night I read all of the affirmation pages I missed on the calendar that one of my best friends Hanna gave me–one of my favorites from May 25th was: Every morning I write down ten things that I love. So here goes:
I love the time I had with my mom traveling when we first left in March, from Sweden to Germany to all over Italy, back up to Belgium and finally in Amsterdam. So much fun seeing so many new places and faces.
I love the time I had when I worked on the farm in Italy for three weeks, like the hard labor under the hot sun, and the big family meals, and the international friends that passed in and out, volunteering like myself, and the host family, Linda, and living on a beautiful mountain for three weeks completely surrounded by pristine nature that I could explore and enjoy.
I love the time I had when I worked on the farm in Germany, feeding the cows delicious smelling food by hand, planting flowers and vegetables in the garden, learning to drive a riding lawn mower and tractor, watching where our meat comes from, the host family and their home, and the daily bike rides along the Donau river of Bavaria.
I love my new, dear friend Martina from the Czech Republic, who worked with me in Italy, and who I was able to visit with her family later on in Czech, and our long talks about life, and our bike rides through the woods into Austria, and our encouragement of each other and our creative endeavors, and how she helped me in realizing my confidence and empowerment.
I love the farmlife–the natural rhythms of work, in sync with Earth’s demands, the calm and peace and serenity of the setting, the purity and simplicity and beauty and naturalness, and all the practical things I learned like milking goats and knowledge of wild plants.
I love the time I had in the Netherlands for five weeks, the long days of nearly eternal sun light, the goats, the caravans, the big family meals, the chaos of big family life, long walks through the woods, gardening, morning runs, bread and cheese, music making, creative energy, collecting hay with friends, family road trips, Dutch everything–language, people, countryside, colors, and every member of the family, Jerry, Letty, Anna, and Fre, and all new friends of the family that I LOVE. I love Asher and and I love Michael and the Being Beings project, and our creative life endeavors that we hope encourages an appreciation for life, and our plans to walk across the country next year.
I love that I believe that only goodness is life, and that I have positive ideas about what may come, whatever that unfolds with a very natural, steady energy. I can only be open at this point, and try to to experience with momentary significance and awareness. The thoughts of each passing moment create the future. The past is over and it equips me with something new to guide me forward, as long as I don’t get hung up. It’s good to remember, because as we look back we can see that everything happens for a reason. This is the eleven, the one louder.