.....gentling

Yogis,
‘To gentle the journey through serious illness and loss with skill and compassion’

This was the quote that opened and set the tone for a two-day hospice training I attended this week. Now a graduate of the course, I will soon begin volunteering once a week for Montgomery & Prince George’s Hospice.

After taking the death doula course several months ago I was looking for the next step on this journey I have embarked on. Hospice seemed the perfect fit and this particular one resonated with what I would want in a hospice when it’s time.

What exactly is hospice? There are a lot of misconceptions. It isn’t a place. It is a service that comes to you, wherever you are. Covered by Medicare/Medicaid, one is eligible once the choice is made to no longer prolong life through treatments and death is expected (as best as one can predict a path so unique to each person) within six months.

There are many hospices available! This one is one of only about 20% still operating as a nonprofit. Most are now for profit. The most basic requirements for your care team are a hospice nurse, a social worker, a chaplain and volunteers. In fact, by law volunteers must provide a minimum of 5% of patient contact. Then each individual organization may offer other services.

As examples, Montgomery Hospice offers pet therapy, reiki (which I plan to be a part of), lavender hand massages (yes!), military pinning ceremonies for former service members and aromatherapy. Their 30 member threshold choir sends 4 people to sing at the bedside of those close to the threshold between worlds. They are amazing!

As a volunteer I will visit a patient 2 hours each week to talk, read to them, play music…..or simply sit as a quiet presence. I also hope to educate others on hospice and normalize our discussions on death......The only sure thing.

You matter because you are you,

and you matter to the end of your life. 

We will do all we can not only to help you die peacefully, 

but also to live until you die.

 ~ Cicely Saunders (founder of the hospice movement 1967)

Won’t this make me sad? At times, yes. But as everyone reiterated, we will receive so much more than we give.

Gentling the journey,
SARAH

......something we can do

Yogis,
My aunt has been having medical challenges this past week…… several states away. With the physical distance and her care being handled by doctors, we have been feeling frustrated. Like there isn’t much we can do to help her. If only we could transport ourselves to her side.

Last night though, when things were quiet, I remembered that we can! There is something we can do to be there for her. Any time and from any place.

We are energy and this human shape is not a boundary. We can be together by intending and willing it to happen. We all do this unconsciously but also have the ability to make this a conscious practice.

It’s quite simple. And although these are not requirements, I find being alone and closing my eyes to be very helpful.

Begin by bringing an image to mind of the person with whom you want to connect or help. An image of them healthy and happy. See them. Then remember what they ‘feel’ like. Their energy. Not what they think or believe. Not their actions. Instead, that part of them that never changes and makes them unique. Their essence.

Once you can see and feel them it is as if you are together. Give them what you want to share. Turn it on in yourself and radiate it out. Turn on the feeling of love and direct it toward them. Or joy. Maybe some humor or sharing of memories. It may be healing or gratitude. You can send anything you awaken and intend to send.

If it feels right, you can add warm light surrounding them. Color. Sunshine. An image of something you know brings them happiness.

Anything we can imagine…..we can create.

The person could be sitting in the same room or thousands of mile away. Maybe it’s just someone you don’t get the chance to see often. And whether they consciously feel it or not, you will reach them and will have an effect.

Last night as I was falling asleep, I held an image of my aunt with the two of us laughing together and I shined love her way.

What you send you also receive,
SARAH

.....plant connections

Yogis,
In February 2023 I hosted a baby shower for the upcoming birth of my youngest granddaughter. Like most baby showers I had a few small gifts for family and friends to take home when the party ended.

One of the gifts was a pack of sunflower seeds.

The following spring I forgot to plant any. This spring though, I was on it. I was unsure how successful they would be after having sat in packets for more than two years. I shouldn’t have worried. Seeds are miraculous.

In May I started a few in my aerogarden and by July two seedlings were sturdy enough to plant outside. My older granddaughter helped me get them in the dirt.

One of them headed skyward immediately. It is now probably 10 feet tall, towering over me and gorgeous! Her cheerful face always decorated with busy bees.

I can see it while doing dishes at my kitchen sink. From my bedroom and as I descend the steps. It’s waving at me right now while I write this on my deck. And every time I see it, I think of little Penny……a beautiful sunflower herself.

My plan is to save some seeds to keep the cycle going.

I also remembered to plant trumpet squash seeds this year after a 3 year hiatus. My neighbors Danny and Margaret were growing them before they died. They always gave me a few and taught me how to properly support their vining habit. I fell in love.

Friday night as I sliced and roasted my first one of the year, memories flooded in of our times together. I know they would love that I am growing them.

All of the zinnias I have grown in the community garden and my own medicine wheel over the last several years began from one pack of seeds. I held a healing ceremony for the family of a friend who passed away much too young. That day they gifted me a pack of seeds in her memory.

Every year I save the flower’s seed heads to replant the following year. Her memory lives in every one of those hundreds of flowers and in them I can see her smile.

Seeds grow connections,
SARAH

......how I know

Yogis,
It was the box I knew would come. It always does. Opening my weekly CSA share I find it bursting with freshly picked local fruits and vegetables and realize this is the one. Tomatoes, corn, large juicy peaches, cucumbers and an assortment of brightly colored peppers spread across my countertop. The box that lets me know it is August.

Who needs a calendar when the world speaks in flavors, colors and smells. What are the things that let you know its August?

My alarm goes off to start my early morning routine. My eyes open to discover that it is indeed still dark. Ugh. Always a shock the first time but this will be the new norm and I will adapt. Sitting up from savasana at the end of an evening class we all notice how the room is shadowed. The shift in light winks to let me know it is August.

The bird song is quieter. Nesting and raising of young is complete, opening an empty space in the air which is immediately flooded with the hum of insects. A daytime chorus which gives way to the nighttime performance. I open my window to be serenaded to sleep and realize that nature holds the original patent for today’s popular sound machines. And it’s free! The vibration tells me its August.

July feels sharper to me. A blinding sun and an intensity to the heat. Gardens in bloom with vivid flowers and a party atmosphere in the air. August somehow seems softer. A month who whispers we are now on the other side of the peak.

Is that a cool breeze I feel?

Where early in the summer I spent hours on my knees trimming and weeding, making sure everything was tidy, the garden is now lush and wild. Overgrown with goldenrod towering over bergamot which leans into spider flower. The echinacea flower heads quickly drying which draws in the goldfinch who love the seeds. I know it’s August when my garden takes care of herself.

The first fallen leaves dot the grass.

I know her well,
SARAH

....nana camp

Yogis,
The now annual ‘nana camp’ for my two oldest grandchildren is a wrap!

From the moment they arrived on Sunday evening until Friday afternoon’s drop off there was nonstop action. Some new activities were added in this year like seeing a children’s musical and making rice crispy treats, but many old favorites resurfaced as well. Smores made over the firepit (they really are delicious), a movie at a theater and a couple trips to the pool.

Two nights of backyard camping were one of the highlights.

My husband is always in charge of the things that make me nervous. Overseeing trampoline time at our next-door neighbors, front flips and all. And letting them ride go cart bikes down the street. Thrilling.

Like most things in life, at some point you stop and try to remember how it all came to be. What was the impetus.

I have my parents to thank for this tradition. As each of my boys got old enough, they would go (one at a time) to spend a week in NJ with their Nana and Pop Pop in the summers. My dad would take them to the amusement park to ride rollercoasters, golfing and of course, to the racetrack where he would give them money to use for betting on horses. My mom would set up a cot next to her bed for them to sleep and they would watch game show network together before drifting off for the night.

These are how relationships deepen. Lasting memories are formed.

Spending time with grandkids when the parents are there is wonderful, but it is in the dedicated times alone that connections truly form. When they have to come to you with skinned knees or hurt feelings. When it is you putting them to bed with a nightly lavender head massage and making their breakfast as they wake. Trust and an understanding of how you fit into the puzzle of their life are developed.

They will remember (as my boys can attest).

More grandchildren will be attending nana camp in the future,
SARAH

....decisions

Yogis,
My dining room table has been covered for months now. A workspace for the design process of our beach house renovation. Paint samples, pieces of tile, hardware……..

It is my real-life mood board.

Early on in the project I tried to do this digitally. Created a document where I could add pictures of lighting I liked, insert cabinet designs and place accent tiles. My Pinterest page expanded daily as I added rooms others had done which gave me the feeling that I wanted to experience in my own home. Yet I felt all over the board (no pun intended.)

Overwhelmed.

Soon enough though I came to realize that I am more tactile. I need to touch, hold and see up close in order to make decisions. To be in its presence. Hence, my table board was born.

Over these months it has shifted, grown and taken shape as deliveries of paint and countertop samples arrived. The mockup of the old pine floor that will welcome my, and a multitude of other’s footsteps over the years, sits as the foundation. Cabinet doors and brass knob options surround. Fabric swatches from the couch I ordered.

I walk past it many times a day. I often pause and look. Move things around. Check from a different angle. Add a new idea. Watch how it changes as the sun moves across the sky.

The fish wallpaper I selected for the powder room makes me smile each time.

This mood board also travels. Every time I go to the beach I pack it all up in a heavy duty bag for the road trip, and off we go! It makes me happy knowing it is in the backseat.  Alone in the beach house, aka construction site, I pull pieces out and sit with them. Immersed. Then I know what to choose.

This is the way I make decisions. The only way that feels right to me.   

For some, reading or researching works best. For others, talking it out, drawing, hearing advice or watching videos. How do you make life decisions?

Not a lot of room on the table for dining,
SARAH

....rhythm

Yogis,
I had the gift of time with my sister…..and much extended family in Cape May. Whenever she and I come together, as the time comes to part, neither of us is ready. Like two musical instruments, we find our rhythm.

Many of our conversations floated around and landed on the idea of rhythm in our lives.  When we are in it, life feels good. Easier. More fulfilling. When we aren’t, there is discord. To me, the human world seems out of tune now.

The natural world though has a rhythm. A hum. A symphony of everything working beautifully together. The animals, birds, plants, insects, moon, ocean….all with their own piece. The closer we lean in, the more our own note seamlessly blends in.

I read an article about waking with the sun. The importance of the earliest morning light touching your eyelids. Our own circadian rhythm is meant to synch with that of day and night. Morning should be light. Night should be dark.

We walked to the ocean together one evening. The sun had set and the beach was quiet. We looked up to soften our gaze and begin making out stars…the fraction that we are now able to see. We recounted dark places we have been where a night sky wraps you in its arms. The hotel behind us sat ablaze in bright lights.  

The tide rolls in. It rolls out. I breathe in. I breathe out. I open my window to hear the songs of frogs and nights bugs. My heartbeat keeps time.

I allow heat in while sweat trickles. A butterfly floats by as the hummingbird hovers. The music of summer with today’s songs lauding fuchsia zinnias and orange butterfly weed.

The vegetables join with zucchini and cucumbers holding the mike. Corn and tomatoes up next.

I taste the rhythm. I smell it in the air. I sway with the wind as thunder beats the drums.

I, like all, fall out of rhythm. Clumsy and disconnected. Anxious. The rhythm asks us to be quiet and to be out in her. Surrounded. My foot starts tapping the beat and soon I slide back in.

No separation,
SARAH