Three Truths and One Wish

Chicken coop, The Farm, image by my brother

Chicken coop, The Farm, image by my brother

1. Truth: There are certain places, spaces that are so powerful, mean so much to me, I carry them with me everywhere I go. “Our” house in Waldport, that particular seven mile stretch of beach, 27 Powers (my friend Laurie’s magic home), my own meditation shrine, Shambhala Mountain Center, Lee Martinez Park, 122 SE Division Street (the house I grew up in), and The Farm.

2. Truth: Some of these places are exactly as I remember them, some have changed so much they are barely recognizable. This year, for the first time in about eight years, my mom’s family celebrated Easter at The Farm. It’s their family farm, where she grew up and where we did too, and even though my uncle still works the land, after my grandma passed away they rented the house out to another family. That family recently moved out and my cousin and his family are moving in, so this year they offered to host Easter dinner there. My mom said they’ve done a lot of nice updates to the house, so it doesn’t look quite the same anymore, and yet this picture my brother took of the chicken coop out back looks exactly the same as I remember.

3. Truth: I feel incredibly lucky to have these places, these people, these connections, these memories. My brother posted the picture of the chicken coop on Facebook with the caption, “It’s just a chicken coop…but so much more. Would love to read what my sister could write about this picture.” There is so much sweetness mixed with the sad in life.

One wish: May anyone who is struggling, suffering with grief or illness or loss or loneliness receive a bit of sweetness, feel a little light, know enough love to keep them from giving up.

6 thoughts on “Three Truths and One Wish

  1. Frances D

    First off, I never would have guessed that was a chicken coop. Second, lucky chickens – what a view! Third, I just loved loved loved what your brother wrote. Makes me miss my own so much right now. Ciao for now my darling. Take care.

    1. jillsalahub Post author

      It is beautiful there. And what you can’t see in the picture is there’s a pond just behind it and a stream that empties into the pond running just behind to the right of it. ❤

  2. regina

    “One wish: May anyone who is struggling, suffering with grief or illness or loss or loneliness receive a bit of sweetness, feel a little light, know enough love to keep them from giving up.”

    thank you, i have been so depressed that my family of origin has fragmented to almost nothing. no family home, no traditions. just a lot of despair. I stopped going to my meditation group because I want to scream during talk time, “I DON’T HAVE A JOB AND IT HAS BEEN OVER A YEAR AND I AM SCARED” (i am a librarian and have been working as a nanny—i raised 2 boys and know the children biz)
    my married-into family has never been a great “it “because the original culture is vastly different. my membership in the family is tolerated but these people have no experience with “not having” so things are much worse now for me having been laid off. conversation about unemployment is distasteful and besides what can anyone do?
    In H is for Hawk, book by Helen MacDonald says that T.H. White, by self loathing and alcoholism tried to “obliterate his broken self.” I thought yes, obliterate one’s broken self” that is what i have been doing to myself. it is not precisely self destruction at all, but a queer, back-handed way of trying to heal oneself, really lizard brain stuff.
    now i know what the personal dharma is….be with the primal broken self and just tolerate as much as i can. i have gotten down to few distractions, not good because it is really more like isolation.
    i would not write this long piece but i starting riffing off your sweet prayer and the desolation i felt not having parents, a farm (i grew up in a crowded urban apt) and simply an Easter family celebration this year.

    Love to you and Peace,

    (please DO NOT feel like this should be published on your comments—much too long for starters.)


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