Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Welcome to My World ... in pictues

Vintage Suzanne - wearing a "survivor" scarf behind a camera

Fine JOY in unexpected places
Within the last few weeks, I started putting a picture titled "welcome to my world" on my Facebook page.  It's a result of this blog where I was first able to verbalize the concept of "my world" - what it is, what defines it, how I am learning to live within its scope.  How it can be as confining or as wide as I choose it to be.  How altered abilities or disabilities (whichever way you perceive them or whatever words you choose to describe them) do not define how well a life is lived.

my "crack" garden - reseeded Alpine columbine in the crack
between the driveway and the house
For me, I find JOY, unexpected JOY in the journey.  Joy in supportive relationships.  Joy in those quiet times with special people.  While most of my life is lived in my "safe" place, forays into the outside world are made possible by those who love me - and know me anyway.  Those who understand the journey I'm on; the places I've already been in that journey; where I am now; and - most importantly - what I need at this moment in time to successfully navigate this journey.  Their expectations of me are not the same as they once were.  Where once I was an active person whose role was defined by doing; I am now by default more of a passive person whose role is currently defined as being.  Yet significant people accept this and seem to be simply happy when I do show up.

St Jacobs Millrace walking trail
Then there's my garden.  A given in my existence both before, after and during trauma and recovery from trauma.  I may not have the energy to keep it up and weed it, but I still enjoy the flowers as they start to bloom in their season in their turn.  I love to watch how the earliest flowers come up and bloom, followed in succession throughout the spring, summer and early fall by others in their turn.

Bluejay seen while walking on the Millrace trail
Although energy, or rather lack of, is a constant concern - along with balance issues - I have always enjoyed a good walk - especially if I have a camera with me.  Papa Bear makes this a reality for me, by walking with me.  Holding out his hand.  Stabilizing me physically when my body starts to go off kilter.  Holding me up.  Holding me together.  As we walk, his eyes always sharper than mine, spy various birds or other wildlife, such as this Bluejay, knowing what's going to happen when my eyes adjust.  We stop.  He waits patiently as I bring up my camera and focus.  Taking pictures in rapid succession.  He smiles knowing this brings me pleasure.  Knowing that he has an integral part in my recovery.

Put me on a trail, close to nature, with a camera strapped
around my neck - and I'm a happy camper
Matriarch and Patriarch Bears were both amateur artists.  Sibling Bear also inherited the "art" gene.  Me?  I've always said that my talent was in enjoying what others painted.  However, my talent has also been acknowledged as having "the eye" - a way of seeing things in a different way and framing them behind the lens of the camera.

After each walk, each foray into the big, scary, outside world, I upload my pictures and review them.  Each time I review the images brings back the unique specialness of that moment in time and brings peace to this soul which has been tormented and fragmented by trauma.

Joy.  Peace.  All - and more - are to be found in the journey of recovery.  In the commonplace, the normal.  Being.  Taking time to grieve the losses and acknowledge not only what remains but that what remains is good.

Backyard, garden, and "live-in gardener"
Notice the dwarf blue spruce -
if it's blue and dwarf I love it!

This is just a peace of my world.  (pun intended)

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