Facing the Future

"Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work, a future. To be courageous, is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. To be courageous is to seat our feelings deeply in the body and in the world: to live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on. Whether we stay or whether we go - to be courageous is to stay close to the way we are made."

- David Whyte
from Readers' Circle Essay, "Courage"
©2011 David Whyte

     Recently, I have been enjoying David Whyte’s generous contributions on his Facebook page. After facing the first snowstorm of the season yesterday, it was really helpful and reassuring to read this entry.  The weather experts expended great energy scaring all of us on the East Coast as the storm headed our way. Once again, I was looking at the trees in my yard near the barn and the house, torn between loving their majestic shelter from the sun and my fear that they will be blown down and crush us. I reminded myself that the wind was no stronger than it had been for countless other times, and happily, here we are intact today.

         I especially like the idea that I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything to be courageous. I just have to stay true to what I know in my heart and “live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences”. Since tomorrow is my birthday, I’ve been thinking a lot about what the future holds for me.  In many ways, I feel like I’m standing at the opening of a new door, a bit hesitant to take the first step.

         Certainly, as I literally stood in my boots and winter parka ready to embark into drifts of snow, sliding down the path towards the barn this morning, I was afraid to venture out.  I can’t fit my protective arm brace under my coat, couldn’t find my “YakTraks” to add traction to my feet, and begged my husband to come with me to feed the horses. Then, as he slowly finished his cup of coffee and looked for his wool socks, I became impatient and annoyed with myself for needing his reassuring presence. I launched out on my own, hesitant and slow as I groped my way down the little hill outside our backdoor. By the time I reached the barn and was greeted by Silk and Siete’s sweet furry faces and noisy chorus of “Nnnh! NNNH!”, I had regained my equilibrium.

         It was a little metaphor for how I felt about getting another year older. I think I just have to keep reminding myself to “stay close to the way that I’m made”.

Reflections on the Storm

We are still without power, and our generator died on Thursday morning. Miraculously, my husband got on the phone at 8 am, found a place a few hours north of us that just received a delivery of 90 generators, paid for it on the phone and drove as fast as he could to pick it up. By the time he got there, they had sold all of them – Fortunately, ours was waiting with a “will call” tag, and although they say it may be Tuesday before we get our power back, we are fine.

The devastation and misery in New Jersey, Staten Island, New York and parts of Connecticut is so overwhelming. Our hearts go out to everyone who lost their homes and loved ones. We have only some small inconvenience compared to people who lost everything. Friends of ours down the road had a tree fall on their house and split it in half. Seeing their two-story house crushed made me sick in my stomach. In the heart of the storm, they had been standing in their kitchen and heard a loud cracking noise. They ran out into the blackness and the 90 mph wind just as the tree fell, severing their bed upstairs literally in half and dumping the entire contents of their house onto their driveway in the pouring rain and relentless wind. They said that they both felt an angel guiding them to their neighbor’s house to safety.

 I realized that at the same moment, I had been standing in my kitchen, cooking chili on the stove when the windows began shaking and it felt like the wind was going to blow them in on me. I ran into our living room and asked my husband if we should go to the basement. Then, we were plunged into blackness. At that point, I was so focused on turning on flashlights and making sure that my daughter and the dog and cat were safely downstairs that I really didn’t feel any fear. Three days later, as I stood in front of the beautiful old farmhouse with the huge pine tree squashing it like it was cardboard, the reality of all of this hit me. I can’t stop thinking about it, and how lucky we are.

My husband and I have been through three earthquakes, two hurricanes and countless paralyzing snowstorms. There is no one in the world that I would rather have at my side in a disaster than Mark. I am so blessed to have a partner that is calm, resourceful and able to push me forward if I hesitate or falter.  I hope that we are teaching our daughter how to find her strength when faced with these kind of life and death situations. You’d like to shelter your kids from them, but face it, no matter where you are in the world, things happen. No place is impervious. Last night, as it got dark, our friends and neighbors suddenly began to show up with food and knock on our door. We had a great impromptu dinner, and everyone felt the power of good community spirit as we joined together. I took the dog out at one point and tears came to my eyes as I looked back at where I live. Our house glowed with the light from the generator like a beacon in the black night.

My friend helped us move the horses back home yesterday. Silk got off the trailer and rolled and rolled in the pasture. She was so happy this morning when I fed her breakfast in our own barn.  There is much good that came from moving the horses. Most important, they were safe in the hurricane. I made a new friend with a great horse trailer. The girls were very comfortable in the barn up the road, and the unfriendly mare who attacked them last time actually welcomed them in the pasture. Last year after the hurricane, Siete had been traumatized by the trailer ride back – our neighbor drove too fast, and my little horse was soaked with sweat when we unloaded her. This time, she got over her fear and loaded easily like she always has when we were ready to come home. 

So this whole storm experience reminds me that fear is like a river that just has to be crossed. It is, after all, an emotion that can be replaced by other emotions that will serve me better. I will always feel it throughout points in the rest of my life, pay attention and respect its warnings, but it will never guide how I live.

Update

No power. No phone. No cell service. No Internet.  Quick update from Starbucks. The horses are enjoying their stay at the luxury horsie hotel, aka my neighbor's barn. They may not want to come home, but I hope that we will be able to get them back tomorrow. I hate looking out the window and not seeing Silk lift her head to meet my gaze.

We lost our 70 year old huge pine tree in the front yard. Luckily, it fell away from the house. Otherwise, some big branches down and another pine tree near the barn - it is in my neighbor's yard and fell towards her property. If it had gone the other way, it would have taken out Siete's stall. So, I'm very happy that we decided to move the girls.

Wondering how long it will take the utility companies to find us this time around......

Quick Update

Thank you, everyone, so much for your concern. I was able to go to the barn and feed the horses this morning. They seem glad to be there. It's cozy, and the concrete really makes the place feel secure. They are drinking water, pooping normally and eating hay. I was concerned about Siete all night, so it gave me peace of mind to see her happy face this morning. That was the last time I will see them until the storm has passed.

My husband did a great job securing our barn and house, so we're in for the duration. It's his birthday - exactly a year ago, on his birthday, we had the freak snowstorm. Some birthday present - maybe we can skip the weather drama next year. I'm making chili and enchiladas, and we've got a fabulous ice cream cake from our creamery.  And lots of candles.

Hopefully, we won't lose power. The wind is about 35 mph. We had a brief hit where it went off and came back on. I'm pretty sure that we will lose it at some point. The big excitement should come this evening.

I'll check in tomorrow if I am able.

Moved the Girls

 We waffled about moving the horses to our friends’ concrete block barn up the hill from us. I even called the woman who was going to trailer them up for me and told her that we had decided they should stay here. Then, my husband went out to the barn and looked at the pine trees that line the property between us and our nearest neighbor. Last hurricane, one had come down on our side. He pointed out that the remaining trees could hit the barn, not to mention the big hickory tree that is next to it. He said we need to move them just to be safe.

So, two hours later, the horses were in the concrete block barn. Last time, we just walked them up the road, but it was stressful for them because there were these crazy barking dogs in one of the yards. And with my arm still being pretty much useless, we didn’t want to take any chances. 

Silk seemed to settle in easily. Siete is a bit anxious. I hope that the wind and rain won’t be too bad tomorrow morning around 7 am so I can drive up and feed them breakfast. Looks like by noon, we’ll be in the thick of it.

My anxiety level dropped dramatically as soon as the horses were safely tucked away. I have no doubt that we did the right thing. My friends who own the barn promise they will be able to get out there and feed and water the girls throughout the storm.  They’re the kind of people that I can trust to do what needs to be done. I’m so thankful that I have such kind friends and neighbors.

I’ll check in again tomorrow.

Here We Go Again

So, it looks like Hurricane Sandy is planning to stop by for a visit. We’re not sure when she’s coming, or if she intends to make a hit a bit further south. Whatever her track, we’re in for some mighty winds and lots of rain. The only good news is that my husband arrived home after a month long run of gigs all over the country. I’ve never been so happy to see him!

My big decision will be whether I move the horses to my friend’s concrete block barn. I did during the last hurricane, and it was a good decision until after the storm. The horse that lives in the barn is the queen and she hated Siete. We had to do an emergency evacuation right after the storm was over, which was very stressful for my girls. This time, the queen is in the lower part of the barn so they can all be separated. But I would need to trailer them up the road since I can’t walk them up and risk messing up my arm. I will wait until Sunday to decide what to do. Hopefully, by then Sandy’s path will be more certain.

Meanwhile, we’re stocking up on food and gas, cleaning the generator, buying wood pellets in case the barn floods. I think back to the morning that the hurricane hit last year, and the memory is still vivid. Huge trees were crashing down outside, and we hid in the basement with the cat and dog watching the sheets of rain and the tops of the trees flailing through the little windows in the door. Makes me think that I should put the horses in the other barn since being in our little shed stalls would be terrifying in that kind of wind.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

More Thoughts on Falling

At 5 am, in the pitch-black front yard, Stella and I encountered a skunk this morning. Luckily, I had the blasting bright flashlight with me and saw the little guy before the dog did. I held on tight to the leash and got dragged a bit, but the skunk went on its merry way while we managed to slip and slide back into the house.  The dead leaves have become treacherous for me on the paths and on the wet grass over the last few weeks.  I am increasingly aware that I am afraid I’m going to fall again.

I’ve written and thought a lot about falling over the years, usually in relationship to riding my horses. So, I have some good resources to draw upon to overcome my new incarnation of this familiar fear. I have been working with Julie Connery Smith,  an excellent Feldenkrais practitioner, here for a few months to help restore my balance and awareness of movement while I’ve been in physical therapy.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with Feldenkrais, I will quote my dear friend, Mary DeBono, who performs miracles on people, horses and dogs :

“It is very common for people to hold onto protective habits since they once served a useful purpose. But these unhealthy movement patterns can cause pain, stiffness and damage to joints over time.  They interfere with freedom of movement and quality of life. Most people, however, don’t realize that they have these harmful movement habits. The Feldenkrais Method works to uncover such inefficient habits of movement and help people learn how to move in a more comfortable, efficient and healthier way.  Aches and pains often disappear. Flexibility, balance, posture and coordination improve.  Simply put, Feldenkrais helps us develop awareness, so that we can move through life with ease and grace.”

            I know what I need to do -- If I can let go of my fear of falling, I know that my range of motion will increase. As my movement becomes less braced and tense, I will be able to blend my motion and my intentions better.  I did it successfully when I was riding my horse. Now, I have to do it while I’m walking on my own two feet.  I think it has something to do with feeling grounded and solid while I’m just standing still. Some days, my whole body feels skewed towards the right since I spend so many hours in splints and exercising that weakened side.

            Another great Feldenkrais practitioner, my old friend, Alan Questel, once wrote an explanation of what led Moshe Feldenkrais to develop his practice. He understood that we are always thinking, feeling, sensing and moving. To change any one of those things would bring about change in the whole person. Movement is the most immediate and concrete of those four aspects, and changing how we move will cause dramatic shifts in the other three areas and in how we perceive ourselves.

So I know I’m going in the right direction, even if I’m out there slip sliding around in the dark. As Feldenkrais said, “If you know what you are doing, you can do what you want.” And I want to move through life with ease and grace.