The emotional journey of the last few days as I've recounted part of what happened during the first incidence of workplace abuse has been rough. It's taken a lot out of me. More than I expected, when I first started this part of the journey in my blog.
Part of the affects of the brutal stress from both back-to-back workplace abuse experiences has been extreme fatigue and lack of balance. On top of these two, others have reared their ugly heads: weakness, shortness of breath.
Today, I need to go to a "safe" place, a place of restoration. I invite you to come with me as I seek solace, rest, peace and healing to go on with the journey next week.
On the on-going journey, I've discovered places of mental/emotional solitude and rest. Places that soothe my soul when it's troubled; my mind when it's racing.
Today, I am going to take you with me to a place where I consistently find peace and rest on the journey. A place I don't have to go far to access. Just across the road from my house.
It begins here, on this path made by many feet,
Along it's banks grow wild flowers in profusion. At this time of year, it's the wild phlox growing like a splendid bouquet along the banks. Adding a touch of brightness to all the greenery.
Across the river, a man stands. I've seen him before. Always standing like he is today. He almost seems to be hiding in the background behind him. Is he fishing? Or is he just like me, looking for a little bit of peace in a hectic world? I don't know. But somehow I like to think that he, too, he is a fellow sojourner on the road to recovery.
I pass this tree and I notice something I haven't noticed before. It used to be standing up straight and tall. Now, it's leaning badly. Listing. Too many winds? Too little support? About to give up? Or trying to stay rooted no matter what the circumstance? Perhaps, it's a survivor like me. Bruised and battered but still there. Still alive. Still surviving. I feel like we're kindred spirits in a way.
At the very top of this leaning tree, is a red-winged blackbird. I've seen them there before. Perched in this tree. They seem to like it. Is it because it is now the only one still standing after a crew came by and took out all the others? Is it because it's a good vantage point to see -- whatever birds are looking out for?
The riverbank is rich in sounds and sights. I can't catch the sounds on a still camera nor some of the sights such as an "air show" I saw the other day. Maybe a dozen bank swallows flying, dipping into the ground in the field before me, then rising again and again and again. I stood still and let my eyes drink in the sight, the motion. My ears the sounds. Enjoying the day and being thankful that I was alive to see this, to hear this.
Then there's the seagulls and other large birds flying high. I aim the camera upwards, zoom in the lens - and one flies over me.
Each day by the river is different. Sometimes I hear the sounds of geese. Sometimes the splash of Mallard Ducks. Sometimes I see other birds such as Common Mergansers visiting on their migration north. Each time, I drink in the beauty, the calmness, the serenity before me. Each time, I come away, back to my life as I know it, refreshed.
It's in the stillness, in the quiet places, that my soul finds what it needs for restoration.
This is just one place I go when I need a break, a rest.
Dear reader, where do you go when you need a rest from the on-going assault of trauma? From the thoughts that keep assaulting your mind and brain and won't give up. What gives you a sense of peace and rest? Of wholeness? A quiet respite from the constant barrage?
If you're able, share with me where you are in your journey.
In the meantime, I bid you peace on your journey.
See you Monday - when hopefully I'll be more refreshed and ready to go back on the journey of recovery.