Tag Archives: Acceptance

When the Spring Goes Dry: A Very Honest Post About Recovering from Domestic Violence and Trauma

Years ago at the other farm our spring ran out of water and we had to switch to the emergency tank. It was not pleasant drinking from that tank. But even more unpleasant was making the trek up the side of the holler to clear out the blockage. Part of me feels like the pastContinue reading “When the Spring Goes Dry: A Very Honest Post About Recovering from Domestic Violence and Trauma”

Saying the Final Goodbye

I unexpectedly lost a friend this past week. A very significant friend. She was my meditation partner and best cuddle buddy. I’m talking about my cat. But for those of us who have significant spiritual relationships with animals the loss of an animal friend can be as difficult as the loss of a human relationship.Continue reading “Saying the Final Goodbye”

Hope Still Lives

I’ve had allot going on in my life lately. I’ve had significant injuries, illness, and family heartbreak. While we have been quietly preparing for spring my mind has been silently contemplating all the experiences of the past five months while my heart has staved off an inkling of coming doom and an upturned world. LittleContinue reading “Hope Still Lives”

Moving beyond suffering

“How do we react when bad things happen?” This question has been on my mind lately. It popped up earlier this summer when Night, my sweet ewe, died unexpectedly. Not too long afterwards I had a bit of a health crisis due to mass pesticide exposure (driving by a farm). Then last Thursday my motherContinue reading “Moving beyond suffering”

Control’s Perspective

On the surface it looks bleak. It sounds like a judgement, a put down. And frankly, if you are actively engaged in judging yourself and others everything sounds like a put down and a judgement. “I’ll never get it right, and I’ll never get it done. Why even try?” At some point we all have our inner Eyor speak up in a gloomy, glum way.

The Lesson in The Pain

I was in K-5, sitting hunched up under the great big pine tree on the recess field reading my science book. It was an ache and burning feeling. That aching and burning have become a constant companion over the past thirty five years.