We are beautiful but fallen...

I love this notion.
From another blogger:

I cannot remember the speaker’s name but I remember a lot of what he said but the thing that is relevant to this post is the sentence I started with. “You are beautiful but fallen.” Translate “fallen” in this context and I get, imperfect, incomplete, work in progress, damaged.

After caring for my father while palliative, he died Feb. 2007, I lost myself and my direction. It's been 3 years and I am beginning to feel better. 

As I adjust to the fall, carrying out the rituals I have added, like books on my book shelf, they fill my heart and my mind and my body with goodness. Over the years I add and subtract the rituals, as my books. I can no longer play softball. But the new activities, they are a comfort and a secure foundation from which to move through my day. There are books I have let go, as I need wisdom and security from varied sources.

The rituals of Autumn in my life: the bird feeders are up, the lawn ornaments in, I have said farewell to the amphibians, the water fowl, and the plants, the leaves that dance to the ground, as they do.

Only this morning did we have subzero temps.  Like the leaves, I am fallen. But as the leaves dance to the ground with the winds, they carry the joy of their purpose.

Bonnie wrote today:
"Somethings we cannot change". From David Richo's book How to be an Adult in Relationships

~ things change and end

~ life is not always fair

~ we pay for growth with suffering 
~ things do not always go according to plan

~ people are not always loyal or loving

We have three adult children, and one granddaughter. It is a blessing. I know I have a legacy. There were days when I felt useless, our children having other adults to whom to turn when I was emotionally barren, fighting depression as I mourned my mother, my father, my mental health & wealth, my career, my drive. Now that I feel balanced again, I am able to provide them with the unconditional love and support they deserve.

I still am trying to find my place in this life, having quit work. Still having the nightmares around working as a teacher, I do not wake refreshed. I feel this guilt in sitting by the lake, taking photos, feeding wildlife.

I am learning to let that go! Like my softball life and those dear friends back in Ottawa.

When we experience inexplicable conflicts that we can’t resolve; when we become aware of urges in ourselves that seem irrational, primitive or destructive; when a neurosis afflicts us because of our conscious attitudes are at odds with our instinctual selves – then we begin to realize that the unconscious is playing a role in our lives and we need to face it. (Johnson,  Inner Work, 1986, p. 5)

 I know that the 9 mos. I spent helping my father in palliative care, I huddled at home the rest of the day. It was all I could do! I continued to take photos, and comment on my world. My e-mail to far away family and friends became blog posts.  I no longer speak to those who believe what I did, or did not do, was wrong. There were inevitable extended family conflicts, and conflict with those who enabled my parents to live in terrible circumstance as they did.

As I juggled my father's illness and my extended family's interference, has meant that I have lost contact with many souls. Caregiver burnout, depression, and illness is a common problem.  I know I am not alone, hence my sharing of my story.

But you know, the answers lie within. I let it all go. I gave my worries up to the universe and low and behold, a solution came.  My work with Hospice has brought me great rewards. There is healing in withdrawal, in artistic endeavour, in looking within. Life is good, I have to accept that what I am able to give is enough. Yes, I miss having a career and a purpose in life. But I have found new things to keep me and mind mind/body/spirit occupied.