Tag Archives: Waldport

Reverb12: Day Three

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reverb12

Remember

The full prompt from Linar Studio: “What is one thing you did this year you think you’ll remember for the rest of your life?”

The last trip I took to the beach with my sweet Dexter. When we got back to Colorado after a month in Waldport, he was diagnosed with a fatal cancer, given a very short time to live. By some freak miracle, he’s still here, but we will never take that trip again, never spend weeks at a time talking long walks on the beach followed by long naps and then another walk. I will always remember how much he hated that long drive, two days in the car, how this last time he shook and panted and whined, but when we arrived, he knew just where we were and was so happy. I will always remember how he rolled in seal poop and how bad it smelled, how excited he was to find a tennis ball and a frisbee on the beach (“what?! free toys?!”), how he played and played, ran and ran. I will never forget that’s the first place he had a bloody nose, a reverse sneeze–the first signs of the cancer.

Dexter embraces his gray hair.

Storm

The full prompt from Besottment: “What storm did you weather in 2012? Big or small… obstacle(s) did you overcome? Feel free to be literal if you prefer… was there an actual storm that you survived?”

There were private storms, things I can’t really talk about here, don’t ever talk about here, ugliness that goes on “behind the scenes.” What I can tell you is how hard it is to love someone so much, to want what is best for them, but have to stand by, helpless and hopeless, watching them fail, struggle, and suffer. I’ve had to realize, accept that I can’t force anyone to change, and that I also can’t love them enough that they’ll want to change.

Year in Review

The full prompt is from Carolyn Rubenstein’s Reverb11 list: “As you reflect back on the happenings of 2011, what were your high points and what were your low points? What do you notice as you look back on the year as a whole?”

The Good

The Bad and The Ugly

  • Dexter was diagnosed with fatal cancer, and has had a few related issues that were pretty scary and sad.
  • A cancer scare of my own.
  • An ongoing struggle with being a highly functioning food addict.
  • Fatigue.
  • From time to time, I really struggled with my meditation practice.
  • Our washing machine died.
  • Some stuff I don’t even want to talk about here.

You know what I notice as I look back over the last year, kind and gentle reader? It was a great year, I have a lot to be grateful for and am so lucky.

What do you really wish for?

The full prompt, from Cam of Curly Pops and Kat at I Saw You Dancing: “Imagine a scenario where you only had one year left to live. What is one thing that you really wish to do that you just haven’t had the chance to accomplish yet? what steps could you take (however small) to ensure that you accomplish this thing in 2013?”

This is so hard to answer, because there are things I want to do before I die, but they might not be important enough to do if I only had a single year left. For example, I want to write a book. That matters to me, is important. I have something to say that feels like it needs to be shared.

And yet, if I only had a year left to live, I might want to spend every minute, rather than working on a big writing project, with Eric and my furry boys, with people I love, who make me laugh. Maybe get a house on the beach for four of those months, spend another four in a cabin in the mountains somewhere, and the last four in our tiny house that I love so much, doing the stuff we love to do.

Beautiful Things.

The full prompt, from Meredith’s Daily Angst: “What brought beauty into your life this year? Was it a tangible thing or something intangible?”

Gifts: little and big, received and given.

superhero earth necklace made by andrea scher, a gift to myself

superhero earth necklace made by andrea scher, a gift to myself

Connection: with all the beautiful, open-hearted, brave people I’m lucky enough to know. Long conversations about life, love, impermanence, books, eye brow waxing, and dogs. Laughter.

Time and Mindfulness: All the hours, the moments, each breath spent experiencing nature and love and joy and rest, meeting reality with an open heart.

The sky: it has been amazing this year, a real show off, every season, any time of day–or maybe I’m just now noticing it?

august18sky6

Book Writing Saturday

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Sanctuary: a place of refuge or safety, a consecrated place where sacred objects are kept.

Yesterday in my writing group, we did a guided meditation in which we constructed a creative sanctuary. Somewhere we could go whenever we needed it, imagined yes, but tangible and whole nonetheless. I went into this the same way I do everything else: having already made up my mind. If I were to have such a place, of course it would be a cabin in the mountains.

The first part of the meditation was to imagine a path leading to our sanctuary. What manifested for me was a path of sand. I have a friend who just got back from Hawaii, so I assumed this was placing my sanctuary in a tropical location, and I resisted. This was not right, the path should be stone or dirt. I tried to force it, to see that instead, but every time I tried to place that image over what was already in my mind, it immediately dissolved and the sand path asserted itself again.

When we reached the part of the meditation where we were to go inside and look around, it all made sense. There were two full walls of windows and as soon as I saw the view, I new it was right: the beach at Waldport. Not a tropical location at all, but rather the place where half my heart lives.

I love Colorado. My job is here, I own a home here, my tiny little family lives here, and I am in love with the beauty of this land, specifically northwestern Colorado–the mountains, the Poudre River, the animals, the rocks, the sky and the trees. I love living in Fort Collins, having the university campus and Old Town both so close, but also living far enough north that it’s not unusual to see a fox running down the road in the middle of the afternoon, or to have neighbors that have horses and chickens. I love having so many parks and wild places in town to walk the dogs, and so many close places to hike.

And yet, half of my heart lives in Waldport, Oregon. Every other year, we try to plan a month long vacation there, and the rest of the time, I dream about it, miss it. I’m not sure I could ever again live year round with the gray sky and rain of the Pacific Northwest, but it still is home to me. It made total sense that if I would imagine a sanctuary, this is the place my heart would wish for, the location my mind would imagine.

Even though the location made total sense, I was surprised by what I found inside. My creative process usually seems so focused on a goal, on a product, I expected that to be the case in my sanctuary. We were guided to see the things we were working on, to imagine them, but what I saw was more about process and practice: a yoga mat, a comfortable and cozy place to read and dream (a huge white heavy cotton sectional couch facing the windows), a meditation shrine and cushion, art supplies and a computer, stacks of journals and books, a large kitchen with a long farm table that could seat at least 10, either for dinner or making art or simply “shooting the shit.” Rather than a private art studio with evidence of many completed projects, it was a retreat space that could be used by just me or welcome a larger group.

The NaBloPoMo prompt for yesterday was “If you could live anywhere, where would it be?” The clear answer is I would live most of the year in Fort Collins, Colorado, and spend summers in Waldport, Oregon. I dream of a day when I have a real sanctuary on the beach there, one that I can use but also share with others who need a retreat space, a safe place to rest and dream and play, a place of comfort, a space to practice, a sanctuary.