.....the return

Yogis,
They are coming back! One by one they show up. A peek of green here… a flash of yellow there. Buds begin to swell on stems that have sat bare for months.

My plant friends are beginning to return. Friends? What makes someone or something a friend? 

For me friends should be dependable companions and good listeners. Check. I can count on echinacea to return year after year. I move a handful of leaves the third week of March, and there she is, waving up from the ground. She will be with me in the garden until I once again need a sweater.

Hi! Great to see you!

Friends should uplift you when you are low. So many of them come to mind here. Zinnias, lemon balm and snapdragon. Bright and cheerful yet never overbearing or taking themselves too seriously. 

They should bring calm when you are anxious. No one does this better than lavender. She is a quiet presence. Her soft leaves and simple flowers make life seem a bit easier. Less complicated. And her fragrance pulls me to bury my nose and take a full breath. Ahhhh.

And good friends are low maintenance and helpful. Great blue lobelia fits the bill nicely. As a native she shows up each spring. Her needs are low even on the driest days of summer and she spreads her seeds prolifically. Gifting me with more plants at no cost!

At the end of the day, the foundation of a solid friendship is when it is built on a reciprocal relationship. Everything about nature involves reciprocity, if you allow it. I help keep the soil healthy, remove invasives, offer water and give them my attention. In return I receive beauty, oxygen and butterflies. Herbs for my salts. Cuttings for my vases. The more I give, the more I get back……. Plants surprise me with an arrival. Mint offers to flavor my water after an hour of sweaty weeding.

I touch their leaves, talk to them openly and truly enjoy their company. Yes, they are friends and I am happy to see them again!

Don’t even get me going on my bug friends,
SARAH 

...it's not time

Yogis,
I really should practice what I preach.

Each March I share with anyone who will listen what I learned about what should be done in the yard/garden at this stage. In a nutshell, not a lot.

The bugs, butterflies and bees have their eggs buried beneath the fallen leaves, along dried plant stems and in wood piles. Many even overwinter themselves nestled into these areas. Rake and clean up too early and you are removing all of the biodiversity from your own little slice of nature.

This is also the time where birds and squirrels are feeding on the dried berries, nuts and seeds on last year’s growth to build strength and gathering dried leaves and brush to start preparing homes for their soon to arrive offspring. Taking it all away means they have no reason to settle there.

Yet on our first balmy day as I opened the windows to smell the earth the urge to ‘clean up’ hit hard. Well, I’ll just pull some of the invasives before they begin to grow again in earnest, I told myself.

Down on my knees I go as I pull the vinca I had planted in the early days before I knew of her desire to overreach. Reaching in I move the layer of fallen leaves and dig my fingernails beneath the dirt to be sure to get each section by the root. I’m almost done and feeling so productive when I feel a thorn in my finger. In a blink of an eye I know it isn’t a thorn. I pull my hand out to find a poor lethargic bee attached, doing her best to send me away.

It worked and my fingers felt like sausages in tight casings for several days. I apologized and tucked her back in.

It is still winter.

I go back to doing what can be done now. Picking up fallen sticks on the lawn. Trimming back old leaves on the Lenten rose plants. My earliest bloomer. Walking around to remind myself who I have and where I spread seeds in fall. And visualizing what is to come.

It’s not time yet,
SARAH

....feed the soul

Yogis,
I’m floating on my back. Arms stretched wide and legs long. Sun shining on my face and belly. The water is warm and calm. So dense with salt that no effort is required on my part. I lie weightless.

My ears are submerged, muffling the outside world. I can hear voices in the distance but they are garbled, yet the sound of my own breath is strong and clear. A steady rhythm. I am at peace.

My annual trip to the Virgin Islands feeds my soul.

It isn’t just the beauty….although there is an abundance. It isn’t only the warmth that wraps its arms around me as I take that first step off the plane. Or the gentle breezes that brush my winter weary skin. It’s all of that and so much more.

Every single thing about the trip brings me inner joy. I declared on day three that even my hair was happy to be there! Sun kissed and filled with salt. My legs love the morning hikes up cactus laden hills. My toes rejoice in being sandy. My sleep deep as the sea sings her song.

And the stars. Oh the stars……  Reminding me how small I am but how wide and wonderful the world is.

The rainbows, strolling wild donkeys and cows, conches on the ocean floor, lobster and fresh caught fish at meals, Carib, hummingbirds and orchids. All of it.

We all have places or things that remind us of who we are and make our soul sing. Others for me are having my hands in the dirt, sitting on the porch watching an incoming storm, smelling a lavender plant, witnessing a sunrise.

It’s important that we know what ours are and make the time for them in this busy life. They make all the difference on us being fulfilled.

What nourishes your soul?

Feeling full,
SARAH

....the light

Yogis,
Winter is the darkest season. Right?

Yes, in some ways. It certainly has the least amount of daylight hours. With the sun hiding below the horizon until almost 7:30 and setting before 5 on the solstice we spend almost two thirds of our time in the dark. Add in all the cloudy gray days and it can feel quite bleak.

On the other hand, when the clouds part and the sun bursts through we have some of the brightest days of the year!

Our area is still packed in with snow and ice. A cold landscape where the air is crisp and incredibly clear. Throw in some sun beams and it is blinding as rays bounce off the white landscape. Almost dizzying. I am not a big sunglass wearer so I find myself squinting as I walk.

And since the sun moves low across the sky, her rays reach through windows into areas of my home that only receive direct light this time of year. My orchids are grateful.

The moon too shines brightly this time of year! This past week the big moon with no summer leaves and haze to filter her light, illuminated my backyard. Perfectly outlined shadows of bare tree branches painted on the snow. Even the slightest movement of fox or deer captured under her spotlight.

Yesterday robins returned to my yard. Flying in and out of our big holly they feasted on the bright red berries since the ground now offers nothing. In a colorless season, any shades that do arrive appear vibrant. The cardinal. The bluebird. Standouts with no surrounding competition.

In dark times we must seek the light. It is always there if we look.

Squinting,
SARAH

....gift of time

Yogis,
My youngest son gave me a certificate entitling me to a hike and lunch on the day of my choosing as a birthday gift. Knowing frigid weather was heading our way I quickly locked in on that Thursday. The forecast read partly cloudy with a high of 53. Perfect hiking weather.

He picked me up at 9:30 and off we went to hike the nearby Billy Goat trail. This trail follows along the Potomac River with much rock scrambling, climbs and descents.  I have done it many times, but it has been a while. Doing the entire loop takes between 2 and 2 ½ hours.

When you hike with someone you have each other’s undivided attention. Even phones are tucked away as hands are needed to grab rocks for the ups and downs. Moving together and finding a rhythm, we pass through incredible landscape. Sometimes talking but also in comfortable silence.

We pause at one of the high points to sit and take it all in. Yes, there was a lunch to follow but I was reminded of how the greatest gift is that of one’s time.

For those of you with adult children, you know what I mean. All we want is to spend time with them.

I have been visiting my very first hospice client weekly since the end of September. Each Wednesday I spend two hours by her side. Some weeks she is in a recliner and able to communicate a bit. It’s in those times that I learned about her and her life. Other times she is in bed and often cannot express her wishes.

For these two hours I sit regardless. No checking of the phone. No chatting with others in the house. My complete attention on her. Maybe reading poetry aloud or playing music that I discovered she liked. Chopin. Frankie Laine. Tony Stewart.

Other times I sit silently near her. Giving her the gift of my time.

In a world with so much attention on material items and experiences we can forget that even while the cost of giving time is nothing, the value is priceless.

Giving and receiving,
SARAH

....joy

Yogis,
I’m sitting here late Sunday afternoon watching the world turn pink as the sun sinks below the horizon. Low clouds make the blush in the air linger and mix with the smell of smoke from a fire burning in our family room. The closing curtain of a joy filled weekend.

The world is difficult right now. Yet if we are open to receiving it, joy can unexpectedly slide in. Often in the simplest of ways.

Saturday night I went to a friend’s dance party. After some mingling and yummy food, the music was turned up. Couches and dining table were pushed to the end of the room so the the old wood floors could act as a dance floor. Colored strobes lit the space as one by one people joined in. For the next hour and a half we stood in a circle and danced. No agenda. Not self-conscious. Twirling with flowy scarves in hand, swiveling hips with arms thrown in the air. Letting go.

Joy arrived.

Sunday I threw out an invitation to my sons and their families for brunch here at the house for whoever could make it. My sons showed up with three of my grandkids. Two of my son’s friends heard they were here and came by with their own children.

Watching the little ones dive into my toy closet for the same match box cars and figurines that their fathers had played with warmed my heart. Hearing ‘Nana’ yelled from another room when they wanted to show me something. Realizing how comfortable they have become in my home.

I hike through the woods with my oldest son and granddaughter to visit the hill he grew up sledding down. My granddaughter, with our shared love for nature, not wanting the hike to end.

Beams of joy turned on.

It is said that happiness and joy are different. Happiness measures how good we feel over time. Joy though is a bright light in this very moment.

Since it is only this moment that exists, let’s find simple ways to invite joy. I believe the more of these moments, the happier we are.

The simple things.

Glowing with joy,
SARAH

.....tribe

Yogis,
“Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64’…….I am about to find out.

It was my birthday Friday. Driving to the beach I got a call from my parents who sang a slightly out of tune Happy Birthday (a family tradition).  

My sister and husband were also coming to host a birthday dinner for me on Saturday night.My sisters-in-law now live there and over the years we have become close with their two friends, and more recently with another who migrated east. The group of us often get together when we are down so Saturday was no exception.

Some time ago we realized we needed a text group to make it easier to keep in touch, share news and arrange details. My sister created it and named it ‘tribe.’ The label has stuck. Now it not only pertains to the way we communicate but also names a deeper level of connection we have developed.  

I looked up the definition of tribe. I took snippets from some to create one that fits the sense we have of each other. ‘A human social group that shares common language and core values, has a common sense of identity and feels a sense of belonging.’

Last night as we gathered around the table for the incredible feast my sister cooked with love, I realized how much we have all shared. The laughter. The caring. There for each other during some difficult times. Celebrating each other’s accomplishments. Knowing we can count on each other. No matter what.

We are always told how important community is to our wellbeing. At times I wonder exactly what that looks like. Then I think of the tribe.

Tribes come in a variety of forms, and often we have several. They can be family or friend groups. Women’s circles. Others who share a passion. A running  group. Yoga class.

I was given a birthday badge and headband to wear. Thoughtful gifts. A delicious cake. Plenty of hugs. Yet it is the warmth and sense of connection we feel at the end of the evening that I realize is the gift of community we seek.   

I belong,
SARAH