by Krista | Oct 18, 2016 | Spring
It’s a gorgeous morning on our farm, the wild winds and pelting rains of yesterday forgotten in a wash of sunlight and stillness. The world looks clean and bright and all is peaceful.
Recently a retired friend of mine told me that she’d spent the 50 best years of her life working non-stop, trying to build something good to pass on to her descendants. She doesn’t regret the investment, but wonders now why she thought she had to only work, work, work and rarely, if ever, take time to play. She urged me not to spend my life working, but to make time for the inspiring, the beautiful, the things that delight.
I love friends like that. Friends who remind me of what’s important. And that it’s never too late to start fresh.
She’s part of my “in cahoots” tribe, and with her and others we’re redeeming the lost moments, making time for the things that make our souls sing.
Like finding a café in Toowoomba that looks like it was plucked out of Greece or Italy or France – or some splendid hodgepodge of the three.
Café Valetta has become a favourite spot to meet with dear friends when we’re adventuring in Toowoomba. Such a wonderful escape from the ordinary, a charming oasis that begs for leisurely visits and solitary reveries.
Recently I met my friend Bernie there, and we had the best talks and laughs over mammoth pieces of cake – carrot for her, red velvet for me – basking in dappled sunshine and fragrant breezes and beautiful views of the park across the road.
I enjoyed a solitary cuppa there when I arrived early for a meeting, letting the cool morning air whisk my imagination back to beloved trips overseas and finding hidden cafes in Paris, Malta, and atop a cliff in Greece. You know you’ve found a good spot when it reminds you of places that hold beautiful memories.
I’ve thought a lot about what my friend told me. Since that chat we’ve saved up money to go to an Andre Rieu concert and to see the Russian Ballet perform “The Nutcracker” over the holidays. Things that may not delight others but fill our souls up to overflowing.
We will always have work to do, always, and work is a good and necessary thing, but our souls need nourishing every bit as much as our bank accounts need filling. Sometimes I’m really good at remembering that, other days I need a nudge.
What good thing will you make time for this week? xo
by Krista | Oct 6, 2016 | Spring
Recently someone from my past communicated with my husband, telling him I have no mind of my own, no will of my own, that any thoughts, beliefs, or choices I have formed, expressed, or made are not mine but those forced upon me by him and others.
It’s an old trick of Patriarchy. A tried and true method to control and suppress women, smother their doubts and questions, and undermine any attempts they make to break free.
In the past, such words were lethal to my very sensitive heart and mind. I believed them. I accepted that I did not matter, that any questions or doubts I had were the work of the Devil, that any dreams and hopes I had for change were merely the reflections of a rebellious heart and needed to be confessed, abandoned, and replaced with whatever my authorities decided was best for me.
I picture those words like those heavy, leaden blankets you wear during x-rays, hurled over to smother me, obliterate my voice, douse my light, keep me under control.
For most of my life I lived under that blanket, quietly accepting my lot, trying to find ways to shimmer a little in the darkness, keeping Me safely hidden.
I’m not part of that world anymore. I left it with three suitcases, a one-way plane ticket, $1000 in my bank account and a passionate, desperate hope that things would turn out OK.
They did.
Bit by bit I got out from under that strangling blanket. I’ve learned to think, to speak, to be without shame, to link arms with fear and courage and tackle grief and rejection and loneliness and illness, and slowly but surely stand on my own two feet with a mind of my own and a worldview and faith shaped by my own experiences. I have friends, true friends, who love me for me and don’t care two pins about the all the external stuff. They see me, with all my foibles, and love me anyway.
The Blanket People hate that.
So every couple of months they send someone along to contact us to try to get me back and return me to the girl living in darkness and oppression and abuse. They tell me I’m going to hell and am a shame to God and all of them. They accuse him of hiding me in a dark medieval cult. There have been death threats and desperate attempts at manipulation. They’ve tried to turn him against me with private messages telling him I traveled the world sleeping with men in exchange for money, that I was never abused or in a cult, and that I only married him for his money. They go through Robbie because in that world, it’s the Men who decide what’s to be done about the Women. My decisions and choices and thoughts have no weight simply because I’m female.
In the beginning such communications were so traumatic for me I’d be vomiting, get migraines, and have nightmares for weeks afterwards. As I healed and got stronger those symptoms eased and eventually I could see that although I’d stepped out from under the blanket, the blanket was still being used to harm me. The blanket needed to be burned.
I’ve learned that the only way to burn blankets is to find out what gave the blanket its power in the first place. To go back in time to when the lies and false beliefs took root in my heart and mind, and replace them with truth. It’s been an arduous task, but a precious one. With each journey another chain is broken, another blanket burned, and the peace I’m experiencing is beyond description.
I’m so thankful for Bear and our dear friends who have stood by me through all this, who helped me unpack the lies and remind me of truth whenever I got wobbly. Because I do get wobbly. Sometimes the pain overwhelms the truth and I can’t see it anymore. That’s why we need each other, to help us get out from under the blanket when it starts smothering us again.
Today, as the sun shines so brilliantly, I’m celebrating that this latest blanket toss didn’t smother me. I was able to see it for what it was – lies, fear, control – and reject it outright, burn that sucker, then remind myself of all the loving, non-smothery people in my life who make this world a beautiful place. xo
by Krista | Sep 28, 2016 | Spring
I’m hobbling about these days, aching from stem to stern after giving my back a good wrench over the weekend. Bear tore a muscle whilst engaged in medieval combat, so the two of us are quite the pitiful pair as we wobble and moan through our chores and projects, then sink down into squishy chairs and try not to move.
Although we’re aching now, we had a marvelous time at the St. Ives Medieval Faire, camping with good friends and making great memories.
It always does us good to get away for these events, to immerse ourselves in medieval life and return home invigorated from living outside, garbed in linen and wool, eating food that smells of wood smoke and drinking wine from earthenware vessels. I hope to share pictures of our adventures with you later this week.
It also does us good to return home, to this place we love so much and are working hard to build into something sustainable, welcoming, and inspiring.
Yesterday evening I had to be out in the magical light that glimmered through the trees. I filled a glass with kumquat juice and soda water and sat in the sunshine, letting it warm and calm me.
I find it healing to just sit now and then. As the wind sends leaves dancing and the sun warms and birds flit about, the world slows and steadies and, for me at least, it calms my thoughts and slows my breathing and I feel at peace.
I’ve made time for those moments a lot in recent weeks, and it’s helped me navigate some painful situations that in the past would’ve knocked me flat and set my mind roiling with anxiety. The sitting forces me to stop and rest awhile with whatever is troubling me. It takes away the divide between me and it, and makes the difficulty more companionable, as if between us we can figure this out. And we do.
Sitting outside helps too. Surrounded by plants and trees and creatures that are steadily going about their business inspires me to do the same. I think of these words by Lao Tzu so often:
“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
Or, as Bear says, “softly, softly, catchee monkey.”
I’m learning, and it feels so lovely when I manage it.
Yesterday I made slow food. Mexican black beans simmered for hours with garlic, onion, and chilies, shredded pork cooked long and slow until the edges were crispy and the insides fork tender.
Today I’ll spend several hours with Oma doing the next steps for the slow foods that we’re making: smoking roasts, bacon, and speck that have been brining for a week, bottling potent cherry brandy for Christmas, filling jars with sauerkraut spiced with peppercorns, mustard seeds and caraway seeds.
And, of course, we’ll sit awhile, visiting contentedly over cuppas with a cookie or two on the side. xo
by Krista | Jun 21, 2016 | Winter
It is shiveringly cold today, with an icy wind that goes right to your bones and sets you a-trembling.
In between dashes to the laundry line to hang up wet clothes (brrr!), I’ve been staying nice and warm inside, making cauliflower potato soup, doing dishes, and wood-burning the last few markings on my wooden clogs. I love them, and can’t help but grin as I clomp noisily across our wooden floors and try not to trip over myself stepping gingerly down our steps. They are astonishingly warm and comfortable, and I have a feeling these clogs and I are going to have a long and happy friendship.
This weekend I took time to chronicle recent observations in my healing. One of the most interesting discoveries I’ve made is that so many of the things I thought were “me” – workaholic, people-pleaser, insomniac – have fallen away. In their place is quietness of mind and comfy-ness of spirit. A natural rhythm is being restored and I find myself functioning in a healthy way as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It is a wonder to me, and I continue to be in awe of how our minds, bodies, spirits, are so interconnected. When one aspect is wobbly, all the others are affected, and when one finds healing, it spills over into all the other parts like a most beautiful infection.
Such discoveries give me courage to press on, to keep going for treatments, to keep meeting with my counselor, to keep touching base with my doctor to make sure we’re doing everything we can to promote healing.
One of those things for me is happiness through self-care. Bear has always been amazing at self-care. When he’s tired, he rests, when wants to build something, he builds it, when he wants to go somewhere, he goes. He’s so attuned to what he needs for fulfillment and happiness that it’s second nature for him to simply do it.
I, on the other hand, am still learning, but it’s a jolly fun learning process. This weekend was dedicated self-care time for me and Bear, and we made the most of it. Computers and phones off, delicious sleep ins, reading of books, watching of movies, chats over bowls of stew as rain bucketed down. He did leather work, I did word-burning, we shared popcorn and dark chocolate, took turns making cuppas, and treated ourselves to red wine, sourdough bread, and four different cheeses: English Red Leicester, Danish Havarti, Tasmanian Triple Creme Brie, and Italian Asiago flavored with chestnuts. Such good, nourishing things that allowed us to start this week rested, restored, and thoroughly inspired. We loved it.
Today it’s back to work, tackling all sorts of little household projects: laundry, dishes, and getting my medieval knives buffed up. Knives are one of my happy things. I do so love them, especially unusual ones like the Bedouin dagger Bear gave me (middle), the gorgeous horn knife (bottom) our friend Colin made, and the wonderful top one that our blacksmith friend, Master Scully, made from an old railroad spike.
Homemade dessert is another thing that always makes Bear and I happy. Today I made an Apricot Upside Down cake, and we dined quite happily on pieces still hot from the oven. The cake was just the thing for a frigidly cold afternoon.
Now I must brave the blustery winds once more and get the laundry in off the line and start folding.
What is something that makes you happy on a self-care day? xo
by Krista | Jun 17, 2016 | Winter
Yesterday afternoon as thick, black clouds blotted out the sun and made our little world wonderfully dark and still, I sat on the veranda with my Luna girl and just enjoyed it. Grass parrots flitting about in streaks of color, occasional bleats from the newborn goats in the paddock, our three little sheep trotting along from one grassy morsel to the next. In such moments our farm feels like a world unto itself. How I love it.
The last couple of months have been precious to me, ones of healing so deep that I nearly feel giddy from the heady sensation of darkness dispelled and crushing burdens dissolved. I knew my physical ailments were rooted in past trauma, but I had no idea how much until those traumas were addressed, healed, and released, and my pain went with them.
I’ve been on pain killers nearly every day since I got out of the cult fifteen years ago. Now I only need them on rare occasions, usually after a treatment as my body lets go of all the bad stuff. I haven’t had a nightmare in months. I fall asleep quickly, sleep well, and wake up most days without an alarm clock – which is saying something since I get up at 1:50 a.m. for work.
The biggest change has been the connected feeling I have within myself. As a coping mechanism, I learned to disassociate, to disconnect from myself and others, but I don’t need to do that anymore. And bit by bit, like collecting puzzle pieces that were thrown hither and thither by an enthusiastic toddler, I’m being pieced back together again. It’s been the most exquisite reunion, a wondrous sense of wholeness.
I’m deeply grateful for the lovely Bernie Giggins who has done so much to heal this battered heart and body of mine. Her kindness, wisdom, and marvelous sense of humor have seen me through the darkest moments of my life with a sense of security and strength. I’m still working through things, still finding areas that need to be visited and healed, but the progress I’ve made thus far means the world to me and gives me such hope.
That’s why I’ve been so quiet here. It’s been my time to be my own Mama Bear, to look after own soul with all the ferocity and loyalty of a grizzly mother. To fight for quietness and rest so my body can recuperate after each healing session. To protect my time to learn new ways of being, behaving, and connecting that are healthy and loving and good. And to focus on the things that bring me joy: my people, my gardens, animals, and books, my art and going on little adventures.
I haven’t had words until now. Not for my journal, not for my blog, not even to speak, but I’m finding them, and as I string them together, I’ll share them here.
It’s winter here now, but you’d never know it. I’m still picking tomatoes, my pea vines are covered with pods, and we have baby goats leaping about all over the place. It’s marvelous.
Bear and I have been doing all sorts of creative projects: building high backed medieval chairs, sewing a medieval quilt, and wood-burning everything from boxes to wooden clogs. I made a potting shed for my gardens and have been weaving sticks into my garden fences to create an artsy barrier for our goats. I made quince jam and Hungarian sausages, hot pepper jelly and apple wine. It’s been so fun.
One thing I’ve learned through all this is the importance of little adventures, and in the weeks to come I’ll be sharing some of my favorites from the last couple of months.
What is your favorite way to Mama Bear your heart? xo
