Livin' la vida Aloha

Friday, May 16, 2014

Summer's Past Farms

When visiting San Diego, there are many known tourist attractions: The Port, Coronado, Mission Bay...the list goes on. Now, don't get me wrong, I love those places! There are, however, many lesser-known gems in the greater San Diego area. Like this: Summer's Past Farms!

Up near Alpine, Summer's Past Farms has gardens, a plant nursery, shops, and a lovely green space for picnicking.

It's a great place to stop for lunch...bring a sack lunch and a blanket for a lovely way to enjoy the San Diego weather!

There is a "fairy" theme woven throughout this place, which brought me right back to childhood.
At 7 or 8, I filled my recess times with the fascination of fairies. Running around campus, any little hole in the concrete, every crevice into which I could peer, became the home of the fairies. My ear up to the fairy's front door, I would listen for their whispers...the faint flap of their wings...any clue that I was right...that they were there. The fairies. Living in the concrete slabs of the Puesta del Sol playground.

The outdoor fairy garden

aloha.

What Matters Most

11:30 a.m.:

We're notified of a fire in the Carlsbad area, a few miles due south of our home.

Home we go to pack "what matters" and await an evacuation notice.

A mixture of confusion, solace, sadness, and intermittent determined focus

guide my steps...

room-to-room...

this closet...

that box...

this cabinet...

that shelf...

It's an eerie, yet slightly freeing feeling

to look at the

"things"

I own

and determine:

"What matters most."

Nick and I (cumulatively) have been through

tornadoes,

tsunami warnings,

earthquakes,

huricane warnings,

snow storms,

scary, icy roads,

I'm sure the list goes on.

This, however, was our first fire experience.

And based upon news reports,

this was the first and worst "mass fire" experience

for all of San Diego. Period.

Of course, I've seen a fire.

But nothing like this:

These shots were still miles away from my home,

but my heart was aching for those that were already affected, including many of my coworkers and friends.

As I crested the hill to my house, I saw this:

smoke over the hill...

which I later learned was white smoke,

which meant the fire was being put out.

White smoke=good news

Black smoke=bad news

From our front yard,

we could see smoke on all sides of us.

At this point there were about 6 fires around North County.

It felt a bit like an apocalyptic movie...smoke rising from everywhere on the horizon.

So, back to finding

WHAT MATTERS

I realized that many of the things I spend a lot of my energy and time on are

NOT WHAT MATTERS.

We ended up packing:

pictures,

important documents,

momentos from Nick's parents,

a few seashells,

a few items of clothing,

computers, external hard drive, cameras,

and my guitar.

WHAT MATTERS

didn't even fill the back of our truck.

And there we sat...awaiting a notice of evacuation.
Nick put together our new bar stools,
and I made tacos.
Because everyone needs a good taco while waiting to evacuate.

When the fires started to come under more control,

we went to the grocery for

wine and ice cream.

In the ten minutes between entering and leaving the store,

this popped up:

By night, it wasn't yet contained, but somehow we were able to sleep.

Perhaps the lullaby of a full moon protected us.

By morning, the fire looked like it had calmed down, but the news reported that it was 0% contained.

Unfathomable.

0% contained.

My heart was breaking for the firefighters and emergency crews who had been working all night while I slept soundly.

Our schools had been called off, so instead of continuing to watch the news, Mom came up and we went to the pool.

As we left the pool, the fire had raged on and the smoke was blowing our direction, so inside we went.

That leaves me here, today.

Still reflecting on WHAT MATTERS MOST.

I told my hubs that I was ready for another "things" purge,

and he reminded me that even though most of our "things"

DON'T MATTER,

they do bring us joy.

I promised him I wouldn't get rid of too much ;)

aloha.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Dear Mom,

Strength. Intuition. Humor. Selflessness. Forethought. Comfort. Grace. Humility. Joy. Passion. Empathy.

Unbounded Love

These are what make you a woman.

When I heard you say out loud that this surgery was removing what was left of your womanhood,

that what would remain would be a

shell

of a woman,

my heart officially broke.

So I got to thinking:

"What defines womanhood?"

Because it certainly can't be our physical parts.

These can be taken from us,

but the woman definitely remains.

As I sit here by your side while you sleep on this, our 3rd night in the hospital,

I can hear you breathing.

The first night, even breathing wasn't so easy.

Your STRENGTH has brought you this far.

How is it that you and I can be feeling the same way at the same time? It is the magic otherwise known as a woman's INTUITION. It is this, more than any physical body part that I am thankful to have inherited from you.

The moment we stepped into this hospital, you had one goal: To make every person you came into contact with laugh. Your sense of HUMOR has blessed your relationships with others, including every nurse in this hospital. In fact, one didn't want to leave you yesterday as her shift ended. Your humor has always been intact: My friends still talk about the bikini night shirt you wore to every sleep over at our house!

The night before your surgery, you wanted to go to the grocery store; not to buy things for yourself, but to stock your kitchen for your sons who would be staying at your house for a few nights. You were, and always have been, SELFLESS. There is no greater COMFORT than knowing that your mom is nearby, in thought or in presence.

Your GRACE has been a guiding light these last few days.

As you said earlier today, "If you treat the nurses kindly, without demanding, you will be treated that way in return." It takes HUMILITY to think of others first when you are in too much pain to help yourself.

The last few days, you have been visited by your first grandson, Jackson. The moment his face pokes out from behind the curtain, your JOY is unmistakable. Your PASSION for being "Grammy" trumps any pain that may come your way.

When the doctors told you that you needed to get up and walk, the task seemed monstrous. You had been bedridden for 2 days and your strength was extremely low. However, as you began to walk, your goal quickly shifted from walking only a few steps, to making it to the door of your neighbor (who had been yelling "hello" from down the hall for 2 days straight). Your EMPATHY for a man who didn't have visitors brightened his day (even though he seemed more interested in his pillow, he knew you were there to see him), and everyone else's around you.

Although there is so much more I could say, the largest, most significant aspect of your womanhood is your UNBOUNDED LOVE for my brothers and me. Even in your heavily medicated states these last few days, you've been more concerned for us than for yourself; always checking on whether we've eaten, slept, etc. "You can never stop being a mother," you said...over and over again.

And so, as you and I head home tomorrow, we may be leaving a large piece of you behind.

But your womanhood?

It remains fully intact.

No one can EVER take that from you.

I love you forever and forever,

Lindsay

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Walk in your footsteps

The weather report said "partly cloudy." I came anyway; I find my peace here, I reconnect, reaffirm, reroot, replenish, refresh here. I am my most-grounded me here.

Before claiming my spot for the next few hours, I walked the length of the beach, then turned around retraced my route. Lately, I have been counting my steps while walking anywhere. It's my way to release anxious thoughts, to be present. 528, 530, 532...I count by twos, every second step because, well, I have a few theories on that: an attempt at efficiency, pure laziness, or, most likely, my undying need to organize my life. Everything in my life.

So, I turned around to retrace my route, and there they were:

My Own Footsteps

Stepping in each one became my goal;

I even stopped counting.

I was IN the moment...no need for distraction.

The first few footsteps were simple to retrace. I quickly became aware that stepping in each footprint was not only increasingly difficult the further I went,

but also that the path I had already tread was no longer my best path.

And isn't that a pivotal thought for life?

We cannot re-do what has already been done.

We may look back upon the footsteps in our lives, but stepping in them again is not only inefficient, it is increasingly impossible.

The further back in your path you try to retrace, the more the outline of the footsteps have been washed away by the tides of life. After a while, what once was footsteps now only carries their partial resemblance.

How did my walk end up, you ask?

Ah....that partially cloudy day was absent of the fluffy whites.

A temperate 75 degrees warmed my skin as I basked in the glory of a beautiful beach shared only by one other ocean-lover (in human form).

Mother ocean created frequent shorebreaks that misted my face and made me smile with complete delight and abandonment.

Spring is here, with summer following shortly behind;