From where we are, I can see the sun push up above the watery eastern horizon a few minutes after 5 am. By six or so, I am usually out on the deck with Wilfred, drinking coffee and watching lobster traps be hauled up by the fisherfolk out off the shoreline. I let my hands fly through as many rows as my charges will allow me to get in while admiring what an excellent coastal canine Tuti has turned out to be. She hunts for the gulls abandoned crab legs down on the rocks and carries them up to the deck where she carefully sucks out any of the remaining meat. It is incredible. Equal parts gross and mesmerizing.
We have mostly been waking up early since around the start of summer when Wilfred gave up sleeping in his blackout tent. He was feeling closed in and a little too separate and ready for a wider more light variable view. I was sad to give up the tent and the additional hour or two of sleep, but he is changing and growing. As are we all this summer.
This summer has in many ways been both quiet and chaotic. I have felt some stirrings of anxiety that have been mostly absent since a brief bout during Wilfred’s infancy and almost entirely non-existent for a good number of years before that. Same old story I suppose in that I have let some of my personal care practices lag over the last few months; my writing practice is intermittent and interrupted at best and with the variability of the summer schedule my meditation practice has been far from daily. I have also felt a massive dip in my typical positive self-regard, which is generally a steady source of easy calm with me.
I took a few risks early in the season that set me off in general. Most are worth it but some I regret and came with some serious blunders on my end and I am no fan of fumbling or of the guilt and shame that often accompany my missteps. I bit off a big chunk when I committed to putting together a retreat in Costa Rica next spring and as much as I am pumped and excited for the adventure, I had to put a hefty deposit down which meant carrying a balance on my personal credit card which I never do anymore and it stirs up all of my childish feelings around being out of control with finances. It triggers a predictable tendency toward financial recklessness. And not in a fun way.
In my fear and overwhelm, I lifted the description for my retreat from a good friend of mine who has been generously holding my hand as I figure out what the hell I am doing. I didn’t think twice about it which is so crazy to think about now, that it didn’t even occur to me in the moment that I was out of line. When she realized what I had done she was of course completely offended and felt taken advantage of, which really, she was. She had put the time and effort into designing something and I just nabbed it. Sitting with it after the fact I was utterly stunned by what I had done and had to spend some time really tracing my actions back. And it is so weird because I can totally see the source- in Beautycounter we share copy and design and all the rest all the time and it totally makes sense. In yoga- not so much. And I got my wires crossed. I feel like shit about the whole thing and hopefully, I have made it right. I don’t know. I am still as sensitive as ever it appears and take my fuck ups harder than I wish I did. But I guess that is life and regret. It just freaking is and I get to live with it and keep on trying to both own it and do better. It sucked and I feel like crap about it and I hope I am forgiven by my friend if not myself. Maybe later by myself. Maybe once my balance has been paid off and my retreat is filled and flowing.
Anyhow. It feels like more of a shit show than it probably is. But it sets off anxiety in me to be sure. I am not a stranger to having muck on my face but it never gets any easier even so. I am super thankful for Chris’s good mentorship around clear communication when you mess up, owning your shit, and making amends, and all the rest. He is the very best and I am lucky to get to lean on him so hard.
The trip back to Wisconsin at the end of June was also provocative. It was busy and full and really everything I could have hoped it to be. But it has left me feeling lonely and an absence of community in my day to day. Something that I have been slow to cultivate for myself in VT. For all of the obvious reasons. And for whatever additional reason, being on Islesford is sort of like pouring some salt into that particular wound right now. My loneliness feels a little louder than it has for a while. I am unsettled. And when I do sit to meditate I am confronted with a sense of resistance that is hard to find the origin of. It feels opaque and long of reach. But I am working to sit with it. Let it be as opposed to pushing it back or down or out. In spite of it all, I trust its passage.
Wilfred and Eider and I are headed off-island today. Eider needs to get a PCR test before the start of camp on Sunday. He will be there for a full three weeks. And for my forever homebody and best pal, this is it’s own big deal and his anxiety is also in a heightened state as he tries at once to feel his feelings and not freak out. And it is a real mix. I know some parents that would be like: well if he’s not ready, why push it? And the thing is for my little double Pisces with a side of Cancer, his emotive, super-sensitive self might very well never feel ready. And yet, as best I can discern as his mama, he indeed is ready and his wings have a big itch to unfurl and stretch beyond the confines of home and family.
It is a tough one though and he is right in the midst of it. The pulse between wanting to stay small and secure, held by his folks and his home, contrasted with all of the burgeoning desires of his own growing autonomy. I think camp will be great for that. Especially a camp with some sweet and tender Quaker values like the Farm + Wilderness composite camps. I feel good about it. More good than anxious actually. Even though it tugs at my mama heart and I am going to miss this kid more than anything. He’s got it. And I only hope he knows that I’ve got him. Even while he’s off and out in the big wide world. I’ve got him.
That is the mix of things this summer I suppose. A lot of the big and the small. In metaphor and in form. On the island these last few weeks, I have seldom seen my big kids. They have been off having their own adventures with friends and on boats and just generally off in the whole big rich wonderful experience that is Islesford in the summer. It is awesome and I am thrilled for them but I also would not be being entirely honest if I didn’t admit how envious I am of them as well this summer. While they traipse about the island, I am tethered to my small charge. Keeping him safe and entertained and napped and all the rest. We have been more often than not going on walks and picking up rocks and finding the other island toddlers and their parents on the Sand Beach in the late afternoons for digging and wading and chit chat. It is so fun. The very best. And I still feel the missing of my bigs and their friends and hearing about what they are up to and maybe getting up to a little bit of it with them myself. Oh well. Life is complicated. I love what is and I still miss what isn’t and on it goes I suppose for all of my living days. Hopefully, I will get a sail in with Maple before we leave her here and head back to Vermont next month. That would be great. The very best.
Now, off to the day. I have a walk to go on with my buddy and our wee rangey mutt. And it too is the very best. Thanks as ever for reading. Just making a practice of owning my shit and all the rest. Fessing up to my foibles of which there are many. All love.
xxx,m