Happy Halloween everyone. The day it is acceptable to be something or someone we aren’t. This is a day that so many of us look forward to because we can walk outside with masks on, green hair and no one will think otherwise. As a matter of fact most people will even smile when they see us because I believe in our heart of hearts we all believe in make believe.
Thinking about some of the costumes I saw over the weekend, I can truly say that Halloween allows many of us to take on the form of our alter egos. People were dressed as Superwoman - every girl’s fantasy - Geisha women, every man’s fantasy, nurses, doctors, evil people, and good people. I’m always amazed at the number of people who go for religious figures – I have to admit they always unnerve me – my immediate thought is they are being sacrilegious – that’s the good old Church of England upbringing where I was raised to believe there was none other than God. I also marvel at the people who dress in uniforms – why chose something so standard – is it because they seek order in their lives?
I have never wanted to be anything scary or ugly or stupid either. Most of my costumes have been on the funky or beautiful side like being Pocahontas, a diva witch, a haunted Queen and each time I have felt strange while in those costumes because I didn’t like the attention but secretly I did want to embrace my characters and become them. A strange conflict of alter ego versus who I am instead of just enjoying being the other person for the day.
My daughter loves Halloween and she seems to be somewhat like me, wants the beautiful costumes. This year she will be an Egyptian princess and everything has to be just so. She has spent ages putting together her costume, even taking a family poll about what colour lipstick she should wear. She is counting the hours until she can get dressed and can’t understand why anyone should have to go to school on Halloween. How dare they she says, Don’t they know it’s Halloween!
My son on the other hand has always wanted the scariest costumes he can find. He often puts bits and pieces together from his wardrobe. The more gruesome the better which is so opposite to his personality. He is very sensitive and caring about others which is why it is so strange to see him take on the scariest characters. This year he isn’t as bothered but when I bought him home a fake knife that looks like it’s sticking into his head and coming out the other side his eyes lit up and now he can’t wait for tonight.
My husband just thinks the whole Halloween thing is totally overrated and doesn’t get into it at all.
Tonight we will go to my Aunt’s house as all the cousins do and we will go out as a group taking the children trick or treating around the neighbourhood, we visit a haunted house and each year one more of the children builds up the nerve to go inside the haunted house. It is definitely a night I look forward to as do my children. I just hope this year we don’t get egged when we are driving back. But even if we do, it’s all in the Halloween spirit.
I also hope I don’t eat any more of that candy that is so tempting and is landing squarely on my hips! So off I go today to take on my Pixie chic character (my daughter’s idea, perhaps being in the Enchanted forest of Vermont) when I embrace the child in me with my children.
Happy Halloween everyone and please take on that character today that is struggling to come through. Go on it’s the only day when you’re allowed and no one will think you’re crazy. Enjoy!
It’s make believe day. Hurray!
Monday, 31 October 2011
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Vacations with no agendas sooth our souls
It’s Sunday morning and I woke up in my own bed with the remnants of a migraine headache and a stomach churning thinking about all the things I have to do today. I know I am suffering from vacation hangover because my body was so relaxed and now it has gone into overdrive preparing for every day routines. Unpacking, changing over the children’s clothes from summer to winter, getting ready for school, thinking about what comes next for me.
To quiet some of chatter, I started reflecting back on our vacation. I fondly remember how we spent our last full day in Smugglers Notch before heading back to reality, by taking the day slow. The first vacation we have had like that for a long time. A vacation of no demands. Now I understand why families go back to the same places again year after year because it is like going home - a home away from home. A place where there is some reality but more fantasy.
I never understood why people bought a second home somewhere else because I thought it would be boring to go back to the same place. I always thought the adventure was in exploring different places and seeing different people. This vacation has taught me that the adventure sometimes is in exploring ourselves. Listening to stillness. To that inner voice that goes off at the least expected moments because it has been given the opportunity to be heard.
Vacations like those where we allow ourselves to be still, to be quiet, to not be rushing about doing this and doing the other. Where there are no deadlines, no planned itineraries gives our minds, bodies and souls the opportunity to rest, to replenish and to renew. I am so grateful that we did this particularly as I am on the cusp on making major decisions about what I will do with this next stage of my life. My next adventure.
I tried not to think about tomorrow. I tried to quiet the noise that invaded my mind from time to time. And for the most part I was quite successful but when I was not, I let the thoughts pass through my mind without question, without reason so I could feel the full breadth and depth of my emotions and I actually felt free and open to them.
I remember on our last night in Smuggler’s Notch sitting in the bedroom after coming out of a lovely hot tub overlooking the last of the leaves, the darkening mountain and the lovely dusky sky feeling so clean, so and ready to take the next step. I remembered being able to exhale the old and inhale what’s to come.
Before leaving Smuggler’s Notch we had lunch at our new favourite restaurant, The Mix, and we chatted with the owner. Already it felt like a home with people that knew us confirming to me we will go back to the Notch because it’s our home away from home.
As we were leaving light snowflakes began to fall signalling the weather was about to change. It was definitely time for us to leave and come back to reality. Instantly the chatter in my mind began to increase, the tension came back into my body as I got closer and closer to reality. Waking up this morning to reality increased the chatter even more. I asked the Universe for an answer.
As if in answer to my calling, to affirm my message I saw Oprah posted this quote from Deepak Chopra, “In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside you.”
And this will be my mantra today as I try to take myself back to the times in my vacation when I was able to find my stillness so I will not forget how. Happy Sunday everyone. Hopefully you will find your stillness today as well.
To quiet some of chatter, I started reflecting back on our vacation. I fondly remember how we spent our last full day in Smugglers Notch before heading back to reality, by taking the day slow. The first vacation we have had like that for a long time. A vacation of no demands. Now I understand why families go back to the same places again year after year because it is like going home - a home away from home. A place where there is some reality but more fantasy.
I never understood why people bought a second home somewhere else because I thought it would be boring to go back to the same place. I always thought the adventure was in exploring different places and seeing different people. This vacation has taught me that the adventure sometimes is in exploring ourselves. Listening to stillness. To that inner voice that goes off at the least expected moments because it has been given the opportunity to be heard.
Vacations like those where we allow ourselves to be still, to be quiet, to not be rushing about doing this and doing the other. Where there are no deadlines, no planned itineraries gives our minds, bodies and souls the opportunity to rest, to replenish and to renew. I am so grateful that we did this particularly as I am on the cusp on making major decisions about what I will do with this next stage of my life. My next adventure.
I tried not to think about tomorrow. I tried to quiet the noise that invaded my mind from time to time. And for the most part I was quite successful but when I was not, I let the thoughts pass through my mind without question, without reason so I could feel the full breadth and depth of my emotions and I actually felt free and open to them.
I remember on our last night in Smuggler’s Notch sitting in the bedroom after coming out of a lovely hot tub overlooking the last of the leaves, the darkening mountain and the lovely dusky sky feeling so clean, so and ready to take the next step. I remembered being able to exhale the old and inhale what’s to come.
Before leaving Smuggler’s Notch we had lunch at our new favourite restaurant, The Mix, and we chatted with the owner. Already it felt like a home with people that knew us confirming to me we will go back to the Notch because it’s our home away from home.
As we were leaving light snowflakes began to fall signalling the weather was about to change. It was definitely time for us to leave and come back to reality. Instantly the chatter in my mind began to increase, the tension came back into my body as I got closer and closer to reality. Waking up this morning to reality increased the chatter even more. I asked the Universe for an answer.
As if in answer to my calling, to affirm my message I saw Oprah posted this quote from Deepak Chopra, “In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside you.”
And this will be my mantra today as I try to take myself back to the times in my vacation when I was able to find my stillness so I will not forget how. Happy Sunday everyone. Hopefully you will find your stillness today as well.
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Travel days are exhausting
Travel days are always exhausting. Today was particularly exhausting as we had to be up at 3 am to catch our 6 am flight to JFK in order to make the 8.20 am connection to Bermuda.
A shock to the system after such an enchanting and relaxing vacation. Nothing like being thrust back to reality. Getting up in the middle of the night is no fun.
Because I was so nervous about missing the flight I woke up every half hour then was wide awake at 2.30am. There was no way I wanted to miss the flight particularly since the whole of the Northeast corridor is under threat for their first Nor’easter of the year. I did not want to get stuck in New York knowing that everyone would be trying to get back to Bermuda for school on Monday.
Coming into JFK was like flying blind. The visibility was so poor that I didn’t see the ground until we were literally on top of it. The sky was dark and ominous waiting to take over the city. Mist was everywhere. We landed safely in NY and I breathed a sigh of relief, almost home, fingers crossed we would be able to get out before the weather deteriorated any further.
We got off the flight only to get back on the same airplane to come home. This time surrounded by many people we knew. Being in JFK was almost like being at home with the number of Bermudians there. It was sort of a comfort to know there was so many of on the airplane.
The flight taxied down the runway but we ended up sitting for about an hour, visibility slightly improved but the sky was still very heavy with dark and threatening clouds. I said a silent prayer for us to arrive home safely. After watching airplanes landing all around us, some closer than my husband would have liked, we were finally cleared for takeoff.
Breaking through the clouds was trying as they were so heavy that it seemed almost as if they did not want to be penetrated. Their density and greyness pushing back against us, rocking the plane for a while. The mystery and strength of the storm sweeping into the city enveloping us like we were a toy airplane. Front and back looked exactly the same - totally and utterly grey. Then like magic we reached our desired altitude and all above us was blue sky, clear and beautiful, beneath us puffy white clouds.
Where had the ominous skies gone? There was obviously still there but now they were beneath us, obscured by the puffy white clouds. It was so gratifyingly peaceful to fly above the madness below. This wonderful interlude of smooth flying illustrating how flying is such a poetic reminder that the sky is always blue, it’s just sometimes we can’t see it.
I reminded myself of this as we got closer to Bermuda when we had to move from the safety of the blue skies into the dark and heavy clouds below to land sending us rocking and rolling again. Each glimpse I got of the turquoise ocean between the dark clouds reminded me that even in the darkest hours there is hope. Then when I saw the runway break through the clouds I knew we were in the home stretch so the turbulence became a means to getting me to where I wanted to be – home. Another reminder that sometimes we have to endure challenges we did not anticipate but as long as we keep the end in view, we can overcome them all.
We landed in pouring rain. The colours of my picturesque home muted by the heaviness of the showers and clouds all around. At first I was disappointed but then I remembered we are not facing a Nor’easter like the people along the Northeast and I was home on my own soil, safe and sound with my family. Back to reality. Exhausted and relieved. And for these lessons I am truly grateful.
A shock to the system after such an enchanting and relaxing vacation. Nothing like being thrust back to reality. Getting up in the middle of the night is no fun.
Because I was so nervous about missing the flight I woke up every half hour then was wide awake at 2.30am. There was no way I wanted to miss the flight particularly since the whole of the Northeast corridor is under threat for their first Nor’easter of the year. I did not want to get stuck in New York knowing that everyone would be trying to get back to Bermuda for school on Monday.
Coming into JFK was like flying blind. The visibility was so poor that I didn’t see the ground until we were literally on top of it. The sky was dark and ominous waiting to take over the city. Mist was everywhere. We landed safely in NY and I breathed a sigh of relief, almost home, fingers crossed we would be able to get out before the weather deteriorated any further.
We got off the flight only to get back on the same airplane to come home. This time surrounded by many people we knew. Being in JFK was almost like being at home with the number of Bermudians there. It was sort of a comfort to know there was so many of on the airplane.
The flight taxied down the runway but we ended up sitting for about an hour, visibility slightly improved but the sky was still very heavy with dark and threatening clouds. I said a silent prayer for us to arrive home safely. After watching airplanes landing all around us, some closer than my husband would have liked, we were finally cleared for takeoff.
Breaking through the clouds was trying as they were so heavy that it seemed almost as if they did not want to be penetrated. Their density and greyness pushing back against us, rocking the plane for a while. The mystery and strength of the storm sweeping into the city enveloping us like we were a toy airplane. Front and back looked exactly the same - totally and utterly grey. Then like magic we reached our desired altitude and all above us was blue sky, clear and beautiful, beneath us puffy white clouds.
Where had the ominous skies gone? There was obviously still there but now they were beneath us, obscured by the puffy white clouds. It was so gratifyingly peaceful to fly above the madness below. This wonderful interlude of smooth flying illustrating how flying is such a poetic reminder that the sky is always blue, it’s just sometimes we can’t see it.
I reminded myself of this as we got closer to Bermuda when we had to move from the safety of the blue skies into the dark and heavy clouds below to land sending us rocking and rolling again. Each glimpse I got of the turquoise ocean between the dark clouds reminded me that even in the darkest hours there is hope. Then when I saw the runway break through the clouds I knew we were in the home stretch so the turbulence became a means to getting me to where I wanted to be – home. Another reminder that sometimes we have to endure challenges we did not anticipate but as long as we keep the end in view, we can overcome them all.
We landed in pouring rain. The colours of my picturesque home muted by the heaviness of the showers and clouds all around. At first I was disappointed but then I remembered we are not facing a Nor’easter like the people along the Northeast and I was home on my own soil, safe and sound with my family. Back to reality. Exhausted and relieved. And for these lessons I am truly grateful.
Friday, 28 October 2011
Happy Birthday Momma
It's October 28 - always a day of confusion and reflection for me because it's my mother's birthday. She would have been 79, still young in this day and age but an age she never saw or knew what it felt like. She has been dead for 35 years now - a lot of years and still the pain remains. The feelings of what could have been if she was here still niggle at me.
I am always confused on this day because I'm not even sure if her birthday even exists anymore considering she is dead and has been for a long time. What are you meant to celebrate when people die - their birthdates or their deathdates? Not sure but both of those dates stir emotions deep within me so I have to acknowledge them both in order to understand the emotion swirling within me.
I often wonder what her life was like when she was young. What her dreams and aspirations were? I often wonder whether she regretted having children, making the decisions she made. I often wonder what the point of her life was to be cut down so suddenly, so unexpectedly, without having the opportunity to right some of the wrongs I know she so desperately wanted to do.
I will never forget the haunted look she often had in her eyes just before she died. The desperation that oozed out of her in her last days. The fear that maybe she knew deep inside she was going. I hated her for the longest time for leaving us in her mess, for not being the person I thought she was capable of being, for giving up on us and life. I craved to be everything she was not. I was driven to be independent, financially secure, to remain single, and never to have children so I could always keep my options open - never to be tied to anyone or anything like she was.
But life softened me when I met my husband and then had a breast cancer scare, both making me realise there is more to life than just achieving goals for self. When I became a mother, I understood more about my mother and the choices she made. I understood that no matter how grown up we think we are, we always hold on to the child within us looking for acknowledgement and approval. I understood that as parents we do the best we can with the resources we have. I empathised with her so much more than I ever could when I stepped into her shoes.
I realised she was a broken woman whose mother had died when she was young as well and she did the best she could for us. Her options were limited by some of the choices she made but she instilled in me how important it is to be a woman of compassion and love before she left me. She set me on a path that has brought me to where I am today by giving me all she had at the time and for her I am truly grateful.
With much love admiration and appreciation, Happy Birthday momma, my hero. I miss you lots and wish we could have become women together but it was not meant to be so I am just appreciative of the time we did have together. Hopefully I am making you proud. I love you more than words can ever say as you are embedded deep within my heart and soul – never to let go even in death.
I am always confused on this day because I'm not even sure if her birthday even exists anymore considering she is dead and has been for a long time. What are you meant to celebrate when people die - their birthdates or their deathdates? Not sure but both of those dates stir emotions deep within me so I have to acknowledge them both in order to understand the emotion swirling within me.
I often wonder what her life was like when she was young. What her dreams and aspirations were? I often wonder whether she regretted having children, making the decisions she made. I often wonder what the point of her life was to be cut down so suddenly, so unexpectedly, without having the opportunity to right some of the wrongs I know she so desperately wanted to do.
I will never forget the haunted look she often had in her eyes just before she died. The desperation that oozed out of her in her last days. The fear that maybe she knew deep inside she was going. I hated her for the longest time for leaving us in her mess, for not being the person I thought she was capable of being, for giving up on us and life. I craved to be everything she was not. I was driven to be independent, financially secure, to remain single, and never to have children so I could always keep my options open - never to be tied to anyone or anything like she was.
But life softened me when I met my husband and then had a breast cancer scare, both making me realise there is more to life than just achieving goals for self. When I became a mother, I understood more about my mother and the choices she made. I understood that no matter how grown up we think we are, we always hold on to the child within us looking for acknowledgement and approval. I understood that as parents we do the best we can with the resources we have. I empathised with her so much more than I ever could when I stepped into her shoes.
I realised she was a broken woman whose mother had died when she was young as well and she did the best she could for us. Her options were limited by some of the choices she made but she instilled in me how important it is to be a woman of compassion and love before she left me. She set me on a path that has brought me to where I am today by giving me all she had at the time and for her I am truly grateful.
With much love admiration and appreciation, Happy Birthday momma, my hero. I miss you lots and wish we could have become women together but it was not meant to be so I am just appreciative of the time we did have together. Hopefully I am making you proud. I love you more than words can ever say as you are embedded deep within my heart and soul – never to let go even in death.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Colours really do affect our moods
It's interesting how the landscape had completely changed in Vermont overnight. The sun didn’t shine much at all yesterday and the colours were all dull. A majority of the trees had lost their leaves seemingly overnight. It was much cooler and I have to admit I did not feel as creative and inspired as I had the days before.
It felt almost as if the colour had been taken out of my soul leaving me feeling depleted and oh so blah. Searching for inspiration, I read through my emails and found the Daily Om message from the day before. It talked about the fact that colours are very important to our psyches. Before we see anything else we see colour. Based on our associations with the colours we see, we form unconscious opinions about our surroundings. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief because I had the answer for why I felt so blue.
My environment had changed from vibrant to grey in one night. There was nothing gradual about the transformation. Gone are the magical colours that were prevalent the day before. How could everything change so suddenly? How could my mood shift so quickly? Easy because grey means dull to me. My association with grey is to want to stay indoors in my pyjamas and do nothing. But I have two children so that was not about to happen. I had to talk myself out of being grey and find something that would pick me up again.
Decision made. Our daughter wanted to do a horse riding lesson. After some checking around, we found a stable in Morristown where she could do a lesson. Once we got there she was ecstatic when she saw she would be riding a white Shetland pony called Dusty. She didn’t want us to watch her lesson so my husband, son and I went to the Glen Moss Falls to walk and look at the falls. As we entered the little park, my husband pointed out impressive beaver dams and then we noticed the trees the beavers had been gnawing on to build their dams. It was totally unbelievable to see the destruction created by little beavers. Large trees destroyed and keeling over. Gnawed at their trunks. Left as territorial reminders that this was beaver land.
"How do they carry them?" my son asked.
Then we saw signs of where they dragged them across the ground to build their dams. Their tenacity left us speechless.
We walked on and though I was terrified, I climbed to the top of what to others would seem like a little hill but to me a mountain and there before us was the beautiful sight of Glen Moss Falls in its full glory. I had to hold on to the tree behind me to steady myself so I would not feel the pull of the ground below. I conquered my fear by standing at the top of the mound overlooking this majestic fall. And I was immensely proud of myself because on that grey day I needed something to make me feel accomplished and the climb provided me with just that particularly after being rewarded by the beautiful sight of the Falls.
The climb back down was slightly easier as long as my husband was in front of me. The closer we got to the bottom the better I felt. And when we got to the bottom of the hill and I looked back up at the top of the hill I was so proud of myself for facing my fear. And then the magic set in again as the greyness gave way to the golden sunlight streaming through the barren trees. Gold once again became the colour of the day. My mood lifted and I felt so much better because I had faced my fear, colours came flooding back in and my outlook for the day changed completely. The power of the mind never ceases to amaze me.
It felt almost as if the colour had been taken out of my soul leaving me feeling depleted and oh so blah. Searching for inspiration, I read through my emails and found the Daily Om message from the day before. It talked about the fact that colours are very important to our psyches. Before we see anything else we see colour. Based on our associations with the colours we see, we form unconscious opinions about our surroundings. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief because I had the answer for why I felt so blue.
My environment had changed from vibrant to grey in one night. There was nothing gradual about the transformation. Gone are the magical colours that were prevalent the day before. How could everything change so suddenly? How could my mood shift so quickly? Easy because grey means dull to me. My association with grey is to want to stay indoors in my pyjamas and do nothing. But I have two children so that was not about to happen. I had to talk myself out of being grey and find something that would pick me up again.
Decision made. Our daughter wanted to do a horse riding lesson. After some checking around, we found a stable in Morristown where she could do a lesson. Once we got there she was ecstatic when she saw she would be riding a white Shetland pony called Dusty. She didn’t want us to watch her lesson so my husband, son and I went to the Glen Moss Falls to walk and look at the falls. As we entered the little park, my husband pointed out impressive beaver dams and then we noticed the trees the beavers had been gnawing on to build their dams. It was totally unbelievable to see the destruction created by little beavers. Large trees destroyed and keeling over. Gnawed at their trunks. Left as territorial reminders that this was beaver land.
"How do they carry them?" my son asked.
Then we saw signs of where they dragged them across the ground to build their dams. Their tenacity left us speechless.
We walked on and though I was terrified, I climbed to the top of what to others would seem like a little hill but to me a mountain and there before us was the beautiful sight of Glen Moss Falls in its full glory. I had to hold on to the tree behind me to steady myself so I would not feel the pull of the ground below. I conquered my fear by standing at the top of the mound overlooking this majestic fall. And I was immensely proud of myself because on that grey day I needed something to make me feel accomplished and the climb provided me with just that particularly after being rewarded by the beautiful sight of the Falls.
The climb back down was slightly easier as long as my husband was in front of me. The closer we got to the bottom the better I felt. And when we got to the bottom of the hill and I looked back up at the top of the hill I was so proud of myself for facing my fear. And then the magic set in again as the greyness gave way to the golden sunlight streaming through the barren trees. Gold once again became the colour of the day. My mood lifted and I felt so much better because I had faced my fear, colours came flooding back in and my outlook for the day changed completely. The power of the mind never ceases to amaze me.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Believing in Make Believe
Yesterday was a day that made me truly believe in magic. I felt like I was in the midst of a fairytale with everything around me magical, enchanting and almost dreamlike. I felt like a little child again – all tingling and bright. Eyes wide open in wonderment and awe.
The morning started out very dark, heavy fog covered the majority of the mountains changing them so they looked like black menacing obelisks. The trees had lost their spectacular colour to the darkness around them – making them look barren and foreboding. We sat at the breakfast table leisurely eating breakfast trying to decide if we were going to let the oppressive day outside keep us inside.
We decided to take the morning slow, read a bit, watch a bit of television and just be. After a few hours of quiet time, we decided to take a drive to Stowe. As we loaded into the car, hope crept back into the day as the fog started to lift off the mountains allowing slivers of sunlight to stream through.
As we crested over the hill from Smuggler's Notch, we could see clear blue skies ahead, exactly where we were going. The light changed. The air grew lighter. We all started chatting at the same time.
"There are very few red leaves left," said my son.
Yes we all agreed but each time we spotted a red leaved tree, it took our breath away. As we drove closer to Stowe the prevalent colours were orange and gold. We had a wonderful lunch at the Green Mountain Inn with a friendly waiter from Jamaica reminding us how the world is quickly becoming a melting pot of people from all different cultures. A Jamaican in Stowe serving a family from Bermuda – who would have thought?
We walked around the town for a bit taking in the lovely architecture of the buildings, the friendliness of the people, its beauty and serenity. We marvelled at the cleanliness, the lack of neon and flashing signs, the quirkiness of the shops and people. We liked the individuality of the stores, no chains, no run of the mill stuff – different, unexpected and lovely.
We began our drive back to Smuggler's full of the Stowe experience and just when we thought we had seen as much beauty as was possible, we hit the entrance to the Smuggler's Notch pass where we were embraced by a line of beautiful golden trees. It felt like we were being pulled into an Enchanted Garden.
My husband and I said to each other at the same time, “Isn’t this magical.”
My husband continued, “Definitely makes you believe you are seeing things on those hills.”
My daughter then started reciting the names of her Brownie group’s names. “The imps, the pixies, the leprechauns, the elves, the gnomes, the calpies, and the fairies,” almost as if she was being lulled in by the magic that surrounded us as well.
Looking at the hills on each side, I imagined the fairies, pixies, imps and elves dancing among the trees, fluttering back and forth, sprinkling their magic dust through the air. I visualized dwarfs, gnomes and leprechauns getting into mischief behind the large boulders and laughing at us as we drove by. I could hear the song of the wood fairies lulling us through. I could feel the magic in the air as golden leaves, orange leaves, copper leaves and red leaves fluttered daintily to the ground almost as if they were dancing to the wood song.
Then when we reached the top of the Smuggler's Notch pass in the distance before us lay the valley all lit up by the setting sun, light dancing, and dazzling, sending shivers up and down my spine. The scenery was oh so magical, mystical and enchanting.
It was definitely a day where I truly believed in make believe because it was there right in front of my eyes. Lulling me in. Encouraging my imagination to soar. Willing me to accept there is a whole world of make believe that lives alongside us if we open our minds to it. What a wonderfully creative and uplifting experience. Thank you Universe for allowing me to be open to witness your magic. To awaken and embrace the child in me who always knew the world is full of magic…
The morning started out very dark, heavy fog covered the majority of the mountains changing them so they looked like black menacing obelisks. The trees had lost their spectacular colour to the darkness around them – making them look barren and foreboding. We sat at the breakfast table leisurely eating breakfast trying to decide if we were going to let the oppressive day outside keep us inside.
We decided to take the morning slow, read a bit, watch a bit of television and just be. After a few hours of quiet time, we decided to take a drive to Stowe. As we loaded into the car, hope crept back into the day as the fog started to lift off the mountains allowing slivers of sunlight to stream through.
As we crested over the hill from Smuggler's Notch, we could see clear blue skies ahead, exactly where we were going. The light changed. The air grew lighter. We all started chatting at the same time.
"There are very few red leaves left," said my son.
Yes we all agreed but each time we spotted a red leaved tree, it took our breath away. As we drove closer to Stowe the prevalent colours were orange and gold. We had a wonderful lunch at the Green Mountain Inn with a friendly waiter from Jamaica reminding us how the world is quickly becoming a melting pot of people from all different cultures. A Jamaican in Stowe serving a family from Bermuda – who would have thought?
We walked around the town for a bit taking in the lovely architecture of the buildings, the friendliness of the people, its beauty and serenity. We marvelled at the cleanliness, the lack of neon and flashing signs, the quirkiness of the shops and people. We liked the individuality of the stores, no chains, no run of the mill stuff – different, unexpected and lovely.
We began our drive back to Smuggler's full of the Stowe experience and just when we thought we had seen as much beauty as was possible, we hit the entrance to the Smuggler's Notch pass where we were embraced by a line of beautiful golden trees. It felt like we were being pulled into an Enchanted Garden.
My husband and I said to each other at the same time, “Isn’t this magical.”
My husband continued, “Definitely makes you believe you are seeing things on those hills.”
My daughter then started reciting the names of her Brownie group’s names. “The imps, the pixies, the leprechauns, the elves, the gnomes, the calpies, and the fairies,” almost as if she was being lulled in by the magic that surrounded us as well.
Looking at the hills on each side, I imagined the fairies, pixies, imps and elves dancing among the trees, fluttering back and forth, sprinkling their magic dust through the air. I visualized dwarfs, gnomes and leprechauns getting into mischief behind the large boulders and laughing at us as we drove by. I could hear the song of the wood fairies lulling us through. I could feel the magic in the air as golden leaves, orange leaves, copper leaves and red leaves fluttered daintily to the ground almost as if they were dancing to the wood song.
Then when we reached the top of the Smuggler's Notch pass in the distance before us lay the valley all lit up by the setting sun, light dancing, and dazzling, sending shivers up and down my spine. The scenery was oh so magical, mystical and enchanting.
It was definitely a day where I truly believed in make believe because it was there right in front of my eyes. Lulling me in. Encouraging my imagination to soar. Willing me to accept there is a whole world of make believe that lives alongside us if we open our minds to it. What a wonderfully creative and uplifting experience. Thank you Universe for allowing me to be open to witness your magic. To awaken and embrace the child in me who always knew the world is full of magic…
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
The Power of Fear
The start of the day was again picturesque. Just the right light sending beautiful hues over the trees. So much natural beauty it takes your breath away.
After some scheduled talks at the timeshare, we had the whole day in front of us to do whatever we pleased – the beauty of an unplanned vacation. Lovely.
We took a drive to Bingham Falls which is located just beyond the beautiful and yet austere Smugglers Notch Pass - a windy road that my husband said reminds him of a much larger version of Ess Hill in Bermuda. We drove past Bingham Falls because it is not sign posted but knew we had because we had dropped down into the valley. The wildness of the woods had disappeared.
When we finally found the Falls, it was worth it. The path way was narrow and surrounded by trees. The sign had been removed. Perhaps the locals are trying to preserve this reverent site for themselves. Understandably so. There was a certain silence that enveloped us as we walked along the path, the road disappearing behind us. Civilization gone. The sound of the waterfall becoming louder with each step. The rushing of water calling us. The path slippery, muddy, leaves falling around us. The smell of wet leaves permeating the air.
My husband and children walked to the edge to see the rushing water. I held my breath and stayed where I was. My fear of heights gluing me to the spot. I so wanted to go with them but with each step I tried to take, hot flashes shot through my body. A cold sweat broke out on my brow. The ground below calling my name if I even got close to the edge. Nausea came in waves. I gasped and told them to go on without me.
“Are you sure?” my husband asked. “I’ll hold your hand and take you down.”
I tried to get close to him but I couldn’t. A wall of fear had built like a fortress in front of me. Stopping me. Pushing me back.
“No,” I replied weakly. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” My hands clammy and shaking. “Go on ahead without me.”
“It’s okay mommy,” my daughter called. “There are steps mommy.”
I tried to get close but I couldn’t. I didn’t even get near enough to see the steps.
“You go on ahead,” I called, trying to sound cheerful. “I’ll wait here for you to come back.”
Disappointment spread through me as I watched my family disappear over the "edge" because that's what it felt like for me. I stood alone in the middle of the wood. Talking to myself, trying to silence the demons in my head. Trying to calm myself.
My head jerked side to side as every sound became a threat. It's strange how what was enchanting and beautiful a few seconds before when I was with my family had transformed into a dank and menacing world when I was on my own.
My mind starting playing tricks on me. Every falling leaf became some sort of menace. Dead tree trunks became creatures lurking in the woods. The sound of the rushing water still calling my name. The edge crept closer to me as I felt like the world was closing in on me. As the fear spread like a virus through my body while my thoughts were rushing through my mind, I turned and saw my family coming back to me. Smiles on their faces. Adventure gleaming from their eyes. Accomplishment oozing from their pores.
I was relieved to see them but at the same time I felt I had limited my possibility by letting fear overcome me. They said it was so beautiful down at the bottom of the falls. They chatted excitedly. I let my fear go. I let my disappointment go. I accepted that I had limited my own experience but was not about to spoil it for my family by staying in my funk.
I shook my apprehensive feelings away telling myself there is always another time to face my fear and go through it. Maybe. Some days are better than others for me when it comes to facing my fear and yesterday was just not one of those days.
We walked back through the beautiful pathway, all anxiety replaced with warmth as my husband wrapped his arms around me. My children jumping the rocks as we made our way back to civilization. And with every step away from the edge my breathing became less ragged and I was able to embrace the peacefulness of the moment once again.
After some scheduled talks at the timeshare, we had the whole day in front of us to do whatever we pleased – the beauty of an unplanned vacation. Lovely.
We took a drive to Bingham Falls which is located just beyond the beautiful and yet austere Smugglers Notch Pass - a windy road that my husband said reminds him of a much larger version of Ess Hill in Bermuda. We drove past Bingham Falls because it is not sign posted but knew we had because we had dropped down into the valley. The wildness of the woods had disappeared.
When we finally found the Falls, it was worth it. The path way was narrow and surrounded by trees. The sign had been removed. Perhaps the locals are trying to preserve this reverent site for themselves. Understandably so. There was a certain silence that enveloped us as we walked along the path, the road disappearing behind us. Civilization gone. The sound of the waterfall becoming louder with each step. The rushing of water calling us. The path slippery, muddy, leaves falling around us. The smell of wet leaves permeating the air.
My husband and children walked to the edge to see the rushing water. I held my breath and stayed where I was. My fear of heights gluing me to the spot. I so wanted to go with them but with each step I tried to take, hot flashes shot through my body. A cold sweat broke out on my brow. The ground below calling my name if I even got close to the edge. Nausea came in waves. I gasped and told them to go on without me.
“Are you sure?” my husband asked. “I’ll hold your hand and take you down.”
I tried to get close to him but I couldn’t. A wall of fear had built like a fortress in front of me. Stopping me. Pushing me back.
“No,” I replied weakly. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” My hands clammy and shaking. “Go on ahead without me.”
“It’s okay mommy,” my daughter called. “There are steps mommy.”
I tried to get close but I couldn’t. I didn’t even get near enough to see the steps.
“You go on ahead,” I called, trying to sound cheerful. “I’ll wait here for you to come back.”
Disappointment spread through me as I watched my family disappear over the "edge" because that's what it felt like for me. I stood alone in the middle of the wood. Talking to myself, trying to silence the demons in my head. Trying to calm myself.
My head jerked side to side as every sound became a threat. It's strange how what was enchanting and beautiful a few seconds before when I was with my family had transformed into a dank and menacing world when I was on my own.
My mind starting playing tricks on me. Every falling leaf became some sort of menace. Dead tree trunks became creatures lurking in the woods. The sound of the rushing water still calling my name. The edge crept closer to me as I felt like the world was closing in on me. As the fear spread like a virus through my body while my thoughts were rushing through my mind, I turned and saw my family coming back to me. Smiles on their faces. Adventure gleaming from their eyes. Accomplishment oozing from their pores.
I was relieved to see them but at the same time I felt I had limited my possibility by letting fear overcome me. They said it was so beautiful down at the bottom of the falls. They chatted excitedly. I let my fear go. I let my disappointment go. I accepted that I had limited my own experience but was not about to spoil it for my family by staying in my funk.
I shook my apprehensive feelings away telling myself there is always another time to face my fear and go through it. Maybe. Some days are better than others for me when it comes to facing my fear and yesterday was just not one of those days.
We walked back through the beautiful pathway, all anxiety replaced with warmth as my husband wrapped his arms around me. My children jumping the rocks as we made our way back to civilization. And with every step away from the edge my breathing became less ragged and I was able to embrace the peacefulness of the moment once again.
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