Healing

That energetic little fox slipped into my life again today.  I never even knew I needed her. But there she was.

Allow me to explain. I have just recently been given the instructions and tools to begin a journey of personal growth. To finally hunker down and begin serious work to pull out and deal with demons of my past that have been chasing me through my whole life. I am to face them, address them, let them come to surface and then to honor them for what they are and return them to the earth. Release them so that they may release me.

Today, I was to go to nature and gather 5 stones. Stones of my heart if you will. I will put these stones into a box and close the lid. I will take each stone and label them with issues from my past.  I may write on them words that describe my feelings of that issue. When the time is upon me I will sit with each stone individually and do my work with whatever it is from my past that I have bestowed upon it. There is more to it then just that but the info suffices for this blog.

So as I made plans to ride along to our ground and wade the creek to find my stones, I received a text from my oldest son asking if his, Lilah, could come hang with us for a couple hours while they took care of some things. I laughed to myself and thought how fitting. My oldest granddaughter LOVES nature and being outdoors. She LOVES our adventures together. Of course, I readily agreed.

As she chattered away on the 10 minute ride to our piece of land, I searched the internet for the symbolic meaning of the fox. For Lilah, since I can remember, fancies herself a fox. She loves animals, strongly relates to them all but especially so of the fox.

Symbolism for the fox means that a solution to the problem is at hand. The fox has the ingenuity to solve any problem. It will lead you to solitude and silence until you see the way out. Which is just what I will need as I take this personal growth journey.  The fox also lets you know that you have all the tools and resources to adjust to new living conditions or a new job. So perfect!!

As I start my new job and am having the usual, well usual for me, anxieties, my foxy little granddaughter shows up to ease me through. And she does!!

We promptly take a big swig of water each and start down the trail toward the creek. The whole way Little Fox is oblivious to the real reason for our nature trek. She begins dodging under logs and over rocks throwing comments back at me constantly. “Grandma! Look at this rock!” and “Hey Grandma! I bet I can turn this flat rock into a shelf!” Sure enough she shoves a flat rock into the muddy ledge of the creek and quickly finds a special rock treasure to place on top of it. “Look at me, Grandma! I’m shelving rocks!!”

As I kept my head down searching for the right stones to begin my work, my eleven year old granddaughter is always step ahead of me, shelving all the stones she can find. “Look Grandma, we will be able to find our way back by following the shelved rocks!” I admired her shelving artwork and her shelving jargon made me chuckle. ” I love to shelve!” “I’m getting really good at shelving!” ” Wonder where I can shelve next!”

Soon we needed to turn back and sure enough her “shelving” reassured us that we were indeed on the right path. I began to think about her work. Shelving stones. It’s what I have done in the past when traumatic events presented themselves. I got “really good at shelving” my stones.  Always there was reason to shove them down and close the lid. “Wonder where I can shelve next!” I put those problems in a box and slammed the lid down as tight as I could. When the lid would begin to open, I couldn’t deal with the pain and I would slam it again and again. “I loved to shelve!”

Until finally it all came seeping out. Creeping into my life at the most unexpected times. Leaving me, every stinking time, wrecked and zapped of energy. Anxiety and panic attacks now direct my life.

Those old shelves were handy while I had no time to do the work to heal those emotional and physical scars. I could set those stones, those slivers and shards of my heart, upon those shelves and keep going on, for my children, for my aging parents, for my sisters, my brothers, my family and friends. Everyone needed me to keep being the strong woman I am. I needed me to be the strong woman I am. I thought I was okay. I thought I was fine and whole and healed.

But I am not.

I am broken, my heart and soul are broken. I have wronged my self. I have wronged others because of my brokenness. I have been burdened for a long long time.

But now, finally, it will stop.  I will journey my way back through my past. I will take each of those stones off their shelves. I will dust off the box I have shoved them into. I will hold each stone. I will caress it.  I will sit with it. I will feel it’s heaviness. I will open myself and I will wait.  I will visualize each stone as God shows me how to honor them and put them to rest. One by one I hope to toss those pieces of my past into the river and to let nature wash them, wash me, clean. I will return those stones to the earth where they belong.

~Sara Jane Rauch~   08/2018

 

Branded

And, somehow, just like that, summer slides into early fall. Capris are morphing into jeans as are tanks into sleeved tops. Boots peek from below, covering those tanned toes. Happy, laughing, fun, sunny images of summer flash across my Facebook.
My children…. my children’s children, my camp children, my niece’s children have filled my soul to overflowing. I reveled the days long with their sturdy brown bodies running the grass bare on my lawn. Sweating joy, hair sticking up all a mess, screaming and giggling they have branded their muddy-faced memories into my own. Echoes and echoes that cause this heart to ache and rejoice all the same. For who can bear without a smile the sound of children gathered and deeply engaged in play of the imagination.

I hope when I’m old, with only memories to entertain, I hope I still can see those beautiful little princesses galloping towards me, pretty ponies rearing regally, those sweet maidens begging me to ride with them. I pray those fierce pirates will sail their mighty ships into my room, somersaulting with glee and challenging me to a rowdy sword fight upon my bed. I know those memories will swing me so high I will touch the sky and rock me so gently I will never want to awaken.

As fall creeps into my life, ending one more sunny season, I sadly put away these new precious memories and say good bye to my summer children. Maybe my senior years will find me with grown cowboys, pirates, princesses and maidens who come to call in person and to sip on teas as we revel an afternoon or two together in summer time memories. With a tug of my heart and a tear in my eye, I move on to new challenges and new beginnings. I will miss my life as it has been these last few years. I will miss the children who gave their summers to me. Good bye fair maidens and mischievous little men, follow your imaginations, be true and brave and let not a soul dampen your dreams.

~Sara Jane Rauch~ 08/20/2018
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