Turtle Time

My family and I recently visited Bald Head Island, staying at a friend's most lovely home. Bald Head is a barrier island off the coast of North Carolina on the east side of Cape Fear and has both beautiful shorelines and a maritime forest. 

Loggerhead and Green Sea turtles nest here. As all the nests were empty, we were too late to go on a night turtle watch to see the hatchlings head to the ocean. One of the volunteers at the Bald Head Island Conservancy suggested going to a nest excavation. Three or more days after the nest has emptied, they carefully sift through the sandy nest, counting the shells to determine live births, eggs that fertilized but arrested, non fertilized eggs, and check to see if there are any late bloomers. 

There were seventy nests this year, sixty-seven loggerhead and three green sea turtle. This Loggerhead nest had 91 hatched eggs and 23 unhatched eggs. Some eggs were unfertilized, some had arrested development.

Hatched and Unhatched Eggs

Occasionally, there will be one or two found alive in the nest. To my delight, this nest had six very lively hatchlings.

After allowing those  of us gathered there a close look at the little fellows, we watched them be placed on the sand and scramble their way into the Atlantic. It was a joyous experience. I felt very fortunate to be on this beautiful beach on a sunny breezy morning witnessing this miracle of life. 

Sensuously Sixty

I began this blog one year ago today, my birthday, with the express purpose of exploring how to reconnect with my body, to learn to live sensuously.  To celebrate I scheduled a Harmony Farm Ritual. Harmony Farm is a magical place. The beautiful buildings are nestled into a small hill overlooking a pond and open fields. When you enter the front door, the first sensual treat is the smell, eucalyptus, lavender, perhaps mint? Instantly soothing. I usually pause for a moment and breathe deeply, letting myself relax into the atmosphere. 

A soothing waterfall greets and welcomes.

The massage rooms are gorgeous, natural light and nature views. These windows overlook a sloping field and a copse of trees that shelter the labyrinth.





This is the back side of the complex. The massage rooms are on the left side, top floor.







A Harmony Farm Ritual consists of a one hour massage, a one hour facial, and organic sugar scrub treatments for hands and feet. After a lovely Reiki enhanced massage on a heated table, I was already feeling relaxed and centered in my body. Linda Blackburn, my healing practitioner for this experience, describes her skill and the setting perfectly on the website, “I believe massage can take you to a deep level of healing. It can help you reach into your soul and allow you to physically and mentally heal. When your body reaches that level, the muscles begin to relax and respond to the work the therapist is doing. Harmony Farm with its peaceful surroundings, adds a wonderful experience of relaxation and healing to your massage.” 

I never had either a facial or sugar scrub treatments. I loved both! By the time Linda was finished my skin was smooth and, well, glowing.  This truly was a sensuous experience and a perfect way to celebrate all I have learned about connecting with my body. This was a year well spent. Thanks for joining me on the journey.

Yoga From the Inside Out

Because cultural messages about our bodies are so strong and the forces that work to destroy our self-image are so pervasive, having others in our life to mirror to us acceptance and encouragement is crucial.


Christina Sell, Yoga From the Inside Out

I've had an off again, on again relationship with yoga. I first tried it in 1974. I knew nothing about yoga, was just curious. I was new to Dayton and had not yet found a job or made friends and my then husband was completely self absorbed in his first year of law school. I was lonely and thought maybe I'd make some new friends. I found it, well, embarrassing. Way too much attention to the body for me. I felt exposed. I was thin so it was not about the size of my body. It was about not feeling comfortable with my body. As I knew no one in the class or for that matter anyone else doing yoga it felt even more isolating than being alone. So I dropped out. End of yoga

Then, in 1985, after having my first ever massage with a very lovely woman who was also a yoga instructor and was looking for a place to hold a class in my part of town; I volunteered to host a yoga class in my home. This time I made it through all the sessions. It would have been awkward to not participate when it was in my house! The teacher had been trained in Yoga for Round Bodies but I did not know how to ask for help. I was kind of getting the hang of it when she found another, more public, location and I did not move on with the group. I believed I was not a physical person; I did not yet realize that yoga is a spiritual practice too.

In 2002 a friend's daughter was working toward her yoga teacher certification and needed a class to garner teaching hours. This time it was three couples doing downward dog in my living room.  By then I was embarassed by my size so I always took a place behind the others. I found the poses too revealing. Again, once the class was finished, so was I.

Then in 2005 I went to Kripalu in Massachusetts for a weekend class on animal communication. There were free yoga classes every morning so I thought I'd give it another try. The instructor, a normal sized person, said something that stopped me in my tracks. We were doing a twist in a seated position and she said, "Now gently move your tummy to the side and deepen your pose." What? Move your tummy? She did not appear to have a tummy to move! One of the reasons I did not persevere with yoga was because I always felt my stomach got in the way. I had never heard of someone "moving their tummy." This was a revelation. I could adjust my body and do the pose comfortably! It never occurred to me that a normal weight person had to adjust her tummy to do a pose. I thought it was a problem for me because I was overweight and I just had to feel terribly squished to even attempt the pose. Another example of the bad body messages I carried around; since I am heavy, I will suffer. The realization that even thin people might have a tummy to move and that adjusting the pose is normal made me weep with insight and relief.

Now, in 2011, I have another friend doing her yoga teacher training. Lori has taught me that yoga is for everyone and the emphasis is on you and your body, not on doing the perfect pose. And, that yoga is as much a spiritual practice as it is a physical practice. She also keeps reminding me that it is about practice, not perfection. Lori is teaching me to be fully present in my body. I do not think I have ever really done this before.  She introduced me to the book, Yoga From the Inside Out, quoted at the start of this post.

Lori

And that brings me to a sunny day in Dayton, Ohio. I'm sitting on my deck after my morning yoga, savoring some fresh fruit, and writing some notes from Yoga From the Inside Out into my journal. Now that I understand that yoga is both a spiritual and physical practice, with emphasis on the word practice, and that I can adapt that practice to me and my body; yoga feels right for me.

While in Florida recently, my goddaughter Kate and I went to  Yoga On the Beach,  morning yoga classes on beautiful Siesta Key Beach. She, and Lori, are part of my tribe who offer the acceptance and encouragement every woman needs about her body. And I am so grateful...

A rainbow backdrop for yoga on Siesta Key

Hello Beautiful!

August 1, 2010

The Story Circle Network invites women to write for their blog One Woman's Day. They describe the blog this way:
Today a woman somewhere is laughing, weeping, grieving, or celebrating. Someone is giving birth; someone is losing a loved one to death. Relationships are forming, others are ending. For some this will be an ordinary day filled with many of the same activities as yesterday. For others, something unexpected will suddenly make this day unforgettable, one that they may tell their children and grandchildren about in the future. In the same way that we are curious about how our grandmothers lived, future generations will be interested in learning about what an ordinary day was like in our lives.

One year ago I was visiting Siesta Key Florida and had one of those days. I wrote the blog post, submitted it,  and pretty much forgot about it. I was surprised and delighted to start receiving responses to that post while I am again in Siesta Key. Please click on this link to read my post at One Woman's Day.

Yesterday I did a yoga class on the beach with my god daughter. The sun was warm on my skin, the sand was soft under my mat, and the waves and sea birds provided mood music. I felt comfortable and confident in my body and, yes, beautiful.

Siesta Key Beach 2011

Resilience

Path near the Stillwater River

While walking along a path in one of my local parks, I noticed this tree in bloom. As I looked closer, I realized that one of the branches was snapped, almost completely severed. Yet this very tenuously attached branch was in full and glorious bloom! What resilience. What perseverance. Despite being terribly traumatized, this bough flowered on.

Flowering bough

When I first accepted that I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from dealing with betrayal and a marriage gone terribly wrong, a friend sent me a page from her book of daily readings entitled Broken to be More Beautiful. I've held on to that reading and that thought as I heal. This tenacious branch reminded me again to stay the course, persevere, and share my beauty.

Broken, yet still creating beauty

           

Storm Body

Judy Abrahamson (writing)

Hurricane Faye

Wind
Refreshing, caressing
Blowing acceptance over naked skin
Lightning overhead, surf below
Healing coolness all around
I am at peace
My body is my own.

Judy Abrahamson

I met this poet several years ago when she shared Hurricane Faye at a writing workshop. I was just beginning this journey to connect with my body and her poem struck a deep chord. It made me cry. I loved it so much that I asked her to submit it to Story Circle Network's annual anthology True Words from Real Women, 2008. I was editor that year with my dear friend and fellow writer Becca Taylor.

What resonated most was the line, "My body is my own." I was feeling so bad about myself and my body. So unloved, so rejected, and so disconnected. That wild hurricane, her oneness with it, the peace of laying claim to her own body made me aware of what I didn't have and what I both want and need. It is a long journey from living and being mostly for someone else to recognizing and honoring myself. To knowing my own beauty and value. To claiming my own power. It is not an easy journey. It is not quick. It is not finished. But words like these heal and encourage and inspire.

When ever a storm rolls through Ohio, accompanied by thunder and lightning and wind, I remember this poem. And I take time to connect with my own storm body, to appreciate who I am and who I am becoming.

Mammogram Celebration

Today I had my annual mammogram. Since having breast cancer, mammograms create a degree of anxiety for me. I had Paget's Disease (www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/sites-types/paget-breast) , a rare form of cancer that was noticed by my gynecologist and diagnosed by my dermatologist just two months after a normal mammogram. After two surgeries and a series of radiation treatments, I was told to get biannual checkups and a diagnostic mammogram yearly. I saw my oncologist in November and he said all looked well and wrote the scrip for this test. Once you have had cancer, the odds of getting a second cancer are higher than the odds of getting your first. So, even though Paget's Disease is not found by mammogram, something else could be. 

The beauty of a diagnostic mammogram is that the doctor reads the test while you wait. A smiling nurse appeared with the good news, all clear!

When I left the hospital I realized what a beautiful sunny day it was. It was just as sunny when I went in but things seem clearer, brighter, more intense when fear is lifted. I decided to go home, get one of my Yorkies, and head out for a walk on this crisp, cold, beautiful day.

I headed to nearby Englewood Reserve, one of our fabulous Metro Parks (www.metroparks.org/Parks/Englewood/Home.aspx). They do an exemplary job clearing the road through the park, including the bike path that runs along side, so I thought it would be easy to find a place to walk.

Englewood Dam, cars traverse the dam on top to the left

Why the dam was built

When I parked in the lot there were two couples entering a snowy path. When a guy exited the same path a few minutes later, he said the snow was packed but not slippery. Being deep in the woods instead of on a road, even one with limited traffic, was enticing so Buddy and I ventured forth.

Buddy leading the way on the snowy trail

Metro Parks signage, we chose the River Trail

The peace and solitude of the woods was blissful. It was so quiet that the birdcall was crystal clear, calling Buddy to attention. I could identify chickadees, cardinals, and finches. If was so good to be in this place, feeling this way, so alive, so fully present in my body.  I was aware of my breath, my heart beat, the sun on my face, my stride. 

Captivated by birdsong

 When I am not seeing everything about my body that needs to be improved, when I step back from judgments imposed by others, when I can see how healthy and fit I am, I glimpse what it is like to be fully at home, at peace, in my own skin.

Self portrait of one grateful woman

Turning Toward the Light

Fourteen women, candles, intentions, and sharing from the heart make for a magical solstice. I sent evites to my women friends whom I thought would embrace the celebration of the return of the light. The winter solstice marks the longest night and therefore the shortest day of the year. Each day forward we have a bit more light until the Summer Solstice when the cycle turns and the nights lengthen again. I asked them to wear something white or sparkly. I asked that they think about what they would like to leave in the darkness and what they would like to embrace in the light. My final request was that they select a word that best represents their intentions for 2011.

This is how my guests were welcomed. The wreaths were custom made for me with bay leaves and the fresh, crisp smell was as inviting as the candle lit sidewalk. The heart shape above the wreaths is my garden goddess. She stays out year round, watching over my plants and trees. Three early arriving friends set out and lit the luminaries. The recent snow added to the light and the night birds were stirring.

Candle lit path

Bay leaf wreath

Owls' eye view

We formed a circle, each woman holding a white candle. After passing the flame one to another, the ceremony began. We recognized the day and spoke into the circle the names of three friends who could not be present but were in our hearts. All listened attentively as each spoke what was being left, what was being embraced, and her word choice.

 Each woman's chosen word beautifully reflected her intentions. I provided each with a locust pod as a keepsake on which to write her word with a silver Sharpie. The seed pod represented rebirth and renewal. I then offered to make a second pod for each woman, marked with her word, that I would add onto a wreath and place in my writing room where I would honor and hold her intention with as my own.

Locust Pods

My Chosen Word



I'm looking forward to spending a morning after the holidays assembling this wreath and thinking with love and affection about my Solstice sisters. It feels good to take time to connect with the cycle of nature, to pause and reflect.

The Deer

I got home kind of late from a basketball game and after parking in the garage and leashing the two Yorkies opened the front door to take them out. On my front lawn was a large deer! I live on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs and I sometimes see deer in a nearby open field during early morning or twilight walks. But this one was in my yard only twenty or so feet from my front door. I think the deer and I were both startled. After the briefest of moments she suddenly bolted away. It was thrilling. I felt my heart expand with pleasure and gratitude. The dogs bounced out and sniffed the ground a bit but seemed unimpressed. 

By the next morning I began to wonder if it really happened. When the dogs and I went on our first walk of the day I looked in the snow and found deer tracks. In a few I could clearly see the hoof marks.

A perfect hoof print

Later I walked through my back yard where there are a number of bushes and found more tracks.

Grazing tracks

 How I wish I had a young enough child to show them to and suggest the possibility of Santa’s reindeer doing a practice run for Christmas! The deer, the snow, the moonlight, and the tracks… an early Christmas gift from nature.